And then, after everything they’d been through, this nice man whom they had never met told them a story that really blew their minds.
When he was done—and Dante brought up to speed—the two of them took a moment while Simon dished up three plates of casserole with salad and bread. He set the table, hunting around the kitchen like he hadn’t been the one to put the place mats and hot pads away, and added a pitcher of water and some glasses before setting the plates down and adding napkins.
Cully spent the whole time patting Dante’s knee to make sure he was going to deal, and Dante kept covering Cully’s hand and squeezing, probably for the same reason.
Right when Simon was going to sit down with them, their door blew open and a fit, ginger bustle of energy came hustling in, Glinda in his arms.
Cully gasped, the familiarity of Alex Kennedy suddenly so wonderful, so dear, he felt his eyes well.
When Alex saw the two of them sitting at the table with Simon, he rocked back on his heels and made a little “Oh!” before covering his mouth with one hand.
His eyes grew immediately bright and shiny, and Cully wasn’t sure who moved first, but it only took a moment before he, Alex, and Dante were wrapped up in a big hug, Glinda yapping excitedly in the middle.
“Oh, guys,” Alex said breathlessly, wiping his eyes on his shirt as he set the dog in Cully’s arms. “I had no idea you were up. We thought… we thought it would take you a while to get your time/space legs, you know?”
“We’re still a bit wobbly,” Dante confessed, but he kept his arm around Cully, so Cully didn’t feel wobbly at all. Of course, Glinda had committed herself to a thorough face-licking, and as he laughingly accepted all her enthusiasm—and returned it—he had to admit his furry little buddy gave him strength too.
“Come on, sit down,” Alex continued, voice thick. “Let me wash my hands and…. God, it’s good to see you. Really you.” He shuddered, and his voice grew thin and reedy as he tried to hold back tears. “Going into your house and talking to… to whatever part of you that was there. That got really hard. You’re going to have to be prepared. The gang’s probably going to want to come in and cling. A lot.” He took a shuddery breath. “Like, a lot.”
Dante met Cully’s gaze apologetically, and Cully shook his head and wiped his eyes on his shoulders.
“Good,” he said throatily. “Because we really missed you too.”
Dante squeezed his shoulders tightly, and Cully sat down at the table, putting Glinda between his seat and Dante’s so she could rub up against their legs. He checked to see that she was engaged in licking Dante’s ankles—apparently she found them delicious—before he started grilling Alex about the dog. According to what Simon had told them, their beloved pooch had been teleporting all over Amador County while he and Dante were gone.
“She was fine, I promise!” Alex said finally, finishing off a bite of casserole. “Simon would pull up to the cul-de-sac, and she was sitting in the front seat looking like she expected nothing less than a royal escort after her adventure in the hills.” He grabbed a gravy-soaked crust of bread, lowered his hand next to his chair, and frowned, looking down.
“She’s still next to my feet,” Cully said dryly. “I take it you’ve been feeding her off the table?” It was a habit he and Dante had worked hard not to instill in her, but no matter how many times they sent that particular memo to their friends, everybody else worked hard at spoiling her. Cully was gratified to feel her chin on his shoe because it meant she still loved him best even if everybody else fed her scraps.
Alex smiled sheepishly. “We missed you guys,” he said. “We spoiled your dog rotten to compensate for not seeing you.”
Cully didn’t know what to say to that and was saved a reply by one of those knocks at the door that are a precursor to the door being opened. He realized that he’d missed that sound, missed his friends and neighbors breezing into the house because they all knew one another so well that waiting for a “come in” wasn’t necessary.
They looked up as Kate blew in, brown hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing a pair of jeans and what looked to be one of Josh’s hoodies, given how large it was on her. Josh was on her heels, big, buff, as grounded as a tree, brown hair windblown and brown eyes as sunken and exhausted as everybody else’s.
“You guys are awake!” she cried, and Cully got up from the table and rushed into her arms. It was as though all his doubts about his friends had been a fantasy, concocted by time alone in his own head. In a rush he remembered all the hours he and Kate had spent putting together her products for Bartholomew’s booth with the little pouches and washcloths and bath sponges he’d made. He remembered gossiping with her about boys, about sex, about children, which he knew she wanted badly, and he knew, in sudden intimate clarity, how much she hated her job and wished she could do the side hustle, the crafting, the selling, the working with her friends, as a real job, and how jealous she was that Cully got to work at his passion too.
And how cheerfully she told him exactly that, so he knew she’d always love him anyway.
He was crying again, clinging to Kate as she clung to him, while Dante and Josh embraced in that testosterone driven sports-guy way they had. Finally, they were back at the table, and Cully realized they’d drawn up a camp chair and an ottoman so they could sit down because his and Dante’s place had never been the hub. It had always been Bartholomew and Alex’s place, because Bartholomew cooked, and Jordan was on the other side with all the magic paraphernalia.
But that apparently didn’t mean that anybody was left out.
“So!” Josh said as they finally settled, he and Kate with a small plate of casserole in front of them. “What happened to you guys!”
“You guys first,” Dante said, making eye contact with Cully and then yawning. “Honestly, our end was so frickin’ weird, and you guys—you’ve all got news. I only want to tell our story once.”
Kate growled and narrowed her eyes. “Ugh. It’s a good thing everybody else is on the way.” Her expression softened. “But maybe we should save the rest for tomorrow. You guys look beat. Do you want me to text Barty and Jordan and tell them not to come?”
“No!” they both yelled in unison, and then they gave a burst of ragged laughter.
“We missed you,” Dante said, catching his eye. “We… it was only the two of us. We barely registered your visits. We’re so glad to be here with you.”
Under the table, Cully grabbed his hand and they squeezed.
It was no less than the truth.
Hedge Witches Unite
THE bad news was by the time Jordan and his new boyfriend and Barty and his new boyfriend got there, Cully had actually fallen asleep at the table, and Dante wasn’t far behind. It didn’t matter. They woke up enough to hug their friends, to shake hands with the new members of their circle, and then, gently but firmly, get walked back to bed by Jordan and Macklin.
Macklin—broad shouldered with piercing blue eyes and black hair barely touched with gray—had been the guy who’d carried Cully into the house the night before. Not that Cully remembered. And if that hadn’t endeared him to Dante forever, this time he carried Glinda for them, making sure she was ensconced on the dog bed in the corner of the room. Dante didn’t have the heart to tell him that she usually slept with Cully. The fact that this guy he’d never met before cared to remember her was enough for him.