Page 59

John

O ver the next month, the growing season kicked into full swing.

We were planting like crazy, tending to crops, and brewing liquor.

I taught Claire how to drive the tractor, how to brew whiskey, and how to fuck against the back wall of the barn.

She seemed especially keen on the last lesson, and I wasn’t complaining.

Like she had at our camp, Claire thrived on learning, and it was a welcome distraction from the shit show we’d been dealing with recently. She seemed to put Neil’s letter out of her mind, and I was thankful for her. She really was embracing her new life here, and it was beautiful to watch her grow.

I still visited my grandparents’ grave every week, but at the start of May, I noticed a small bouquet of flowers left on their grave. The next week, they’d been replaced with fresh ones, and the week after that, the same.

“It’s nice that you left flowers,” I said to Kimmy one afternoon. “I always forget. ”

She chuckled. “That wasn’t me. Claire does it, every week now that we have flowers again.”

An unexpected lump formed in my throat. She loved this place like I did, and she honoured people she’d never met because they mattered to me.

And she didn’t even tell me, because she didn’t do it for praise.

She did it because she cared, and that was the core of who Claire was.

Kind, and good, and more than her piece-of-shit family ever deserved.

Christ, I’m so fucking gone for her. This wedding cannot come quickly enough.

That evening, I showed Claire the rose garden, where our wedding would be at the beginning of July.

Guarded by a white fence, the garden was neglected, but she immediately loved it, and we got to work restoring it.

She dug into the dirt to plant tulips, happy as a clam, and I couldn’t help chuckling at how far she’d come from that day on the rooftop.

Her birthday was at the start of June, and I was going to make good on my promise to take her to the spring festival.

It was already a beautiful spring morning when I got home.

Since it was her birthday, I’d let Claire sleep in while I went to visit Nimkii at Whitefeather.

I dropped off my bag at the door, carrying a brown paper package into the kitchen.

Asha sat at the table eating breakfast, which surprised me, since she was so rarely home. Not that I was complaining.

“Morning,” she said to me, and I raised an eyebrow.

She never talked to me unless she had to. What’s the occasion?

“Morning,” I answered, a little wary as I set the package on the countertop. “You just get back from scavving?”

She nodded. “I decided to stick around for today.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s Claire’s birthday,” she said, like I was stupid. “Her twenty-eighth, in case you didn’t know.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know when my wife’s birthday is. I just don’t know why you care, since you barely show up at the best of times.”

Asha dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “I don’t have to explain why I’m here for my best friend’s birthday.”

“Best friend?” I repeated with a dark chuckle. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

She turned her nose up at me, her mouth forming a thin line. I didn’t actually want to fight with Asha today, so instead of saying something else that might push her buttons, I asked, “Speaking of Claire, is she still asleep?”

“Nope,” Asha replied. “She’s out there.”

She gestured towards outside. On a one-hundred-acre homestead. Helpful.

Thankfully, I heard the back door open in the hallway, and Claire entered with a basket full of eggs.

It was still chilly in the mornings, so her cheeks were pink, and her pretty red hair was windswept.

She looked, as usual, like a painting—too soft and ethereal to be real.

She gave me a sweet smile, green eyes bright, as I approached.

“Hey, beautiful,” I said, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Happy birthday.”

She smiled wider, then set down her basket and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down for another, longer kiss. She slipped her tongue past my lips, making me groan softly and hold her closer.

“Thank you,” Claire replied after we broke apart. “But I’m more excited about the wedding next month.”

“Why not both?” I asked, touching her cheek. “We’ve got lots to celebrate. You still want to go to the spring festival today?”

She nodded emphatically. “I’ve never been to a Wastelander festival before.”

“Pretty sure it’s like any other festival.”

She giggled. “I know that. It’s just different for me, because I’m the outsider here.”

I kissed her again. “Not anymore. I think I’ve totally corrupted you into a Valley girl now.”

“You mean converted?”

“That’s what I said,” I teased, grinning at her. “Time for your present.”

Claire frowned. “Present? You already got me a horse.”

“That was a wedding present,” I insisted. “This is a birthday gift. Totally different thing.”

“John,” she scolded, eyebrows raised, but it was half-hearted. “You’ve already gotten me plenty.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

I led her into the kitchen, where Asha had vacated the table and gone off I-didn’t-give-a-fuck-where. So much for needing to be there for her best friend’s birthday .

I picked up the small package I’d left on the counter and held it out to Claire. She took it, shooting me a curious look before unwrapping the brown paper.

A blue hooded cloak spilled out of the package.

Made from velvet using a wool-linen blend, I special ordered it from Nimkii months ago.

I went with blue since it was Claire’s favourite colour, and Claire had told me everyone always put redheads in green.

It was probably the softest fabric I’d ever felt.

“Oh,” Claire gasped, holding it up to examine the adjustable ribbons at the neck. “How did you—why did you—”

She looked up at me with watery eyes. The next thing I knew, the air was pushed out of me by one of Claire’s signature bone-crushing hugs. I gasped, then chuckled weakly, stroking her hair.

“You like it, then?” I managed to get out.

She let me go, pressing a hard kiss against my lips.

“It’s beautiful,” she said in a near-whisper. “I love it. Thank you.”

My heart squeezed at the sincerity in her voice.

“But it must’ve cost a small fortune,” she continued, a little guiltily. “With the wedding clothes, too…”

She wasn’t wrong; it hadn’t come cheap. But I also had more PNCs than I’d use in a lifetime, so it evened out in my mind. I’d also never had anyone I wanted to spoil before her. It didn’t help that she was so obviously delighted every time I did.

“Don’t worry,” I said, kissing her forehead. “We’re doing fine. But if it makes you feel better, I can crack the whip extra hard come harvest season—make you really work for it.”

She laughed. “Alright. Do your worst.”

The spring festival that afternoon was like I remembered, other than a few new vendors. The Post was decked out with more stalls and tents than usual, selling everything from essentials like food and weapons to random Old World trinkets that were good for nothing but satisfying people’s curiosity .

“Ride with me today, Ash,” Claire had said happily to Asha before we left, offering her a hand from Poppy’s back.

With her blue velvet cloak, her red hair half-up, and her skin shining in the sunlight, she looked like a faerie, as my grandmother would’ve said.

On horseback, she was even more striking than usual, and something about it pulled on my heartstrings.

She looked right. Confident. Like she belonged there.

Asha had hesitated, staring at her hand for a minute before slowly taking it.

To my surprise, she actually smiled a little at Claire as she climbed onto Poppy’s back.

It didn’t make me like her any more than before, but for Claire’s sake, I was glad.

I wanted her to have her old friend back…

even if that friend still hated my guts.

It seemed like everything had burst into bloom overnight.

The grass was green; flowers had popped up everywhere; and sunshine beamed down on us as we left Ghost, Bella, and Poppy at the stable.

I walked around with Claire, letting her explore.

I’d brought some strawberries to trade in my bag, since they’d just ripened.

“Such a nice day,” Claire said as the four of us walked down the busy street. “Look, John. A bluebird.”

She pointed at the streak of blue that flew by and landed on a nearby tree. I couldn’t help smiling. I touched the small bluebird charm at my belt.

“I always think of you when I see one,” I replied, putting my arm around her shoulders as we walked. “Granny said that they were a symbol of hope. Seems fitting.”

Claire flushed a little, and I kissed the top of her head.

“Get a room,” Kimmy said from just behind us, and Claire laughed. “I don’t like this side of my brother you’ve brought out, Claire. It’s harder to mock him when he’s sweet to you.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

As usual, Asha was quiet and unimpressed.

We stopped at a flower stand, where Kimmy admired the azaleas and traded for seeds to plant in the flower garden.

Claire stopped by one of the Old World trinket stalls because they had a tiny selection of books.

I traded for a couple, to add to our ever-growing stacks in the storage shed at Summerhurst .

Further down the street, a three-piece band was playing music, and a small crowd of people were gathered, listening and dancing. Claire’s eyes lit up.

“Come dance with me,” she said, tugging on my hand, and I chuckled.

“Not a chance. Too many people.”

“You’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Please?”

I kissed her. “I’d rather watch you, baby.”

She pretended to pout, but then smiled and went to dance in the centre of the crowd.

“It’s been a long time since I danced,” Asha said to Kimmy, holding out her hand. “Let’s do it.”