Page 21 of Bows & Eros
"Huh." I tilted my head, considering the possibilities of Hermes returning that memory to the boy himself, in some supernatural way, back at the school. I wished there was some sort of rulebook about all of this that one could consult. I had a thousand questions, but they would distract from the most important aspect of the discussion of magic—which was establishing a firm boundary against creating town-wide chaos again.
"Extra marshmallows for both of you," Ethan said, re-entering the room with a tray of steaming mugs. "Noor, can I take your coat?"
"Oh. Yes, thank you." I stood, shrugging out of my jacket and folding the gloves into the pocket. It felt freeing, being back in just my sweater and skirt, my school teacher's armor. I did passively wish, in that moment, that I had worn something prettier for Family Fun Day, judgements and assumptions from other adults be damned.
His fingers brushed mine as he took the coat, and he tossed me a smile that felt like a secret, just between the two of us. My heart fluttered.
I sank back into the couch and accepted my mug of cocoa from Aaron and paused, my eyes going from the one in my hands to the others. All three mugs were oversized, glossy ceramic, and were hand painted with different landmarks in town. Aaron's cup featured the diner; Ethan's had the park, with its big blue pond in the back; and mine had my beloved little church, painstakingly detailed down to the stone arch over the red door.
"Who made these?" I asked a cocoa-mustachioed Aaron Weaver, whose small hands were grasped around his oversized mug like it was a salad bowl. "They look like they're from a gift shop."
"Dad and I did them together," Aaron replied, wiping away the arc of foamy chocolate from his mouth with the back of his hand. "We make them out of clay, then put them in a big fire box so they get hard and glossy, and then paint them. There are more in the cabinet."
"Are they all pictures of Crete?"
I sipped the cocoa, melty marshmallows swirling on top, and did my utmost not to moan. It was perfect.
"Mostly. We did the school and the courthouse and I wanna do our house." His eyes lit up, like a cartoon lightbulb had gone off over his head. "You should do one too! What would you paint?"
"The church," I said with a laugh, rotating the mug to demonstrate that it had already been done. "It's my favorite place in Crete. I tell people sometimes I moved here because of the church."
"It's super old," said Aaron with a sage nod.
"Like me?" I teased, and got a little chuckle.
Ethan returned from hanging my coat and chose to sit in the chair across from us, nervous energy seeming to hover over him as he reached for his own mug. I suspected that he had attempted to soothe his nerves and delay the discomfort of the inevitable conversation that must happen by keeping his hands busy, and now, at having to simply sit and sip at a cup of chocolate, the restlessness was allowed to crackle and spark again.
"I was just admiring your mugs," I said to him, holding mine up and tapping at the church. "Ilovethem. I'm always telling the town council that Crete should be a tourist destination, and look at you, hiding a gift shop for visitors in your kitchen."
"Tourists here?" he replied with what appeared to be true surprise. "To do what?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" I gave a little laugh and a shrug. "I fell in love with Crete in a day. I wanted to move here and live near the little historic church and never leave again, and I want to share that feeling with so many other people. But, I suppose most of my enjoyment comes from living here and participating in the community, not things a tourist could squeeze into a long weekend."
"Come to Crete and fall violently in love," Ethan joked, making his son hunch a little in his chair. "Further traumatize our pastor by joining the daily elopement line. Visit my son and get hit by a pointy paper airplane."
"Daaaad," Aaron muttered, red-faced. "I said I was sorry."
"No you didn't," Ethan replied with a laugh, which only deepened the shade of red on Aaron's cheeks. "Areyou sorry?"
"Yes!" Aaron said, just a little too loudly. "It was fun at first, but it just kept getting bigger and weirder and ... scary. Am I grounded?"
"Probably," Ethan told him with a sigh. "We'll figure that out later. For now, we just need to talk about responsibility and rules about wandering off without telling me."
"And about when and how you should use your special gifts," I added pointedly. "Hermes told us that hethinksit only makes people fall in love with a person they already like, but he doesn't know if that's true."
"It is true," Aaron said quickly. "It doesn't make peopledoanything, it just makes feelings stronger. One of them made someone buy a house."
"How do you know that?" his father asked, brows drawing together.
Aaron shrugged his narrow shoulders, hugging the mug up to his chin. "I dunno, I justknow. I feel all of it happening. My mind is so loud right now, but it's getting better. Some of them have gotten quieter. I can't hear Miss Mayflower anymore or any of the big kids from school."
"Hear them?" I asked, fascinated.
"Kind of. I don't know." He squirmed in his seat, avoiding our eyes. "It's hard to explain. Like ... I feel it? It's not like they're talking in my head, but Iknow."
I sincerely hoped he didn'tknowthe more salacious details of some of the connections he'd sparked today. Looking at him, he seemed more unsettled by trying to put his sixth sense into words than by anything age inappropriate that might have flashed into his mind today. It sounded fairly abstract to me. At least, I hoped it was abstract.
"Can youseethem in your mind?" Ethan persisted. "Did youseesomeone buy a house?"
