“So we could kill you, and no one would be the wiser.”
“Yes, though I would like to avoid that if at all possible.”
“Of course you would,” Lucy said. “We have conditions.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
Talia said, “You have to help me in the spring in my garden and do exactly what I say.”
There was no hesitation. “Yes.”
Phee said, “You have to spend one day a month with me and Zoe in the woods.”
“Yes.”
Chauncey said, “You have to let me do your laundry!”
Oh, how his heart felt like it would burst. “If that’s what you want.”
“And you have to tip me!”
“Of course.”
Theodore chirped and clicked, head bouncing up and down.
“Every single button I can find,” Linus agreed.
Sal said, “You have to let us call you Linus.”
His eyes stung. “I would love nothing more.”
Lucy grinned devilishly. “And you have to dance with me, and when I have bad dreams, you have to come and tell me everything will be okay.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes to all of it. To any of it. For you, I would do anything.”
Lucy’s smile faded. He looked so young. “Why did you leave in the first place?”
Linus hung his head. “Sometimes, you don’t know what you have until it’s no longer there. And I needed to be your voice. So those far away would hear you for all that you are.”
“Children,” Arthur said, speaking for the first time. “Would you please go inside and help Zoe with dinner? I need to have a word with Mr. Baker.”
They complained immediately.
“Now.”
Lucy threw up his hands. “I don’t know why you don’t just kiss him and get it over with. Adults are so dumb.”
Zoe choked on a laugh. “Come on. Let’s leave the dumb adults to it. We absolutely will go inside and start dinner and not watch them through the windows.”
“Ooh,” Talia said. “I get it. Yes, let’s go watch—I mean, make dinner.”
They hurried up the steps to the house. Sal glanced back at them before closing the door behind him.
And immediately appeared in the window with the others, though they tried unsuccessfully to hide behind the drapes. Even Zoe.
Linus loved them very much.
The stars were beginning to appear overhead. The sky was streaked in orange and pinks and blue, blue, blue. The sea birds called. The waves crashed against the rocks.
But the only thing that mattered at this moment was the man before him. This exquisite man.
Linus waited.
“Why now?” Arthur finally asked. He sounded tired.
“It was time,” Linus said. “I—I went back, thinking it was the right thing to do. I presented the results of my investigation to Extremely Upper Management.” He paused, considering. “Presented might be a euphemism. I was quite stern, if I’m being honest.”
Arthur’s lips twitched. “Were you?”
“I didn’t know I had it in me.”
“Why did you?”
Linus spread his hands out in front of him. “Because I … I’ve seen things. Here. Learned things I didn’t know before. It changed me. I didn’t know how much until I no longer had it. When I could no longer wake up and walk to the house for breakfast. Or listen to you teach them. Or discuss your ludicrous thoughts on philosophy with you. Or go on adventures on Saturdays wearing ridiculous outfits while being threatened with a grisly death.”
“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “You don’t seem to have a problem wearing them now.”
Linus pulled on his shirt. “They’re growing on me. My point is that I left because I was scared of what could be, not of what already was. I’m not scared anymore.”
Arthur nodded and looked away, jaw tight. “And the orphanage?”
Linus shook his head. “It’s not … you know, you told me once that the word orphanage is a misnomer. That no one comes looking here to adopt.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
“You did. And as I told Extremely Upper Management, this isn’t an orphanage. It’s a home. And that’s what it will remain.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
“And what of the others? You said you thought you could help all the others.”
Linus scratched the back of his neck. “I might have done something … illegal? Stole a few files. Maybe more than a few. I have an idea, though it will take time.”
“Why, Linus Baker. I’m utterly surprised at you. Stealing, of all things. It’s not proper.”
“Yes, well,” he muttered. “I put the entirety of the blame on you lot here. You’ve corrupted me.”
Linus thought he saw a flicker of fire in Arthur’s eyes. “You really did all that?”
“Yes. I was frightened, but it was the right thing to do.” He hesitated. Then, “I also quit.”
Arthur looked surprised. “Why?”
Linus shrugged. “Because it wasn’t where I belonged.”
“Where do you belong, Linus?”
And with the last of his courage, Linus Baker said, “Here. With you. If you’ll have me. Ask me again. Please, I beg you. Ask me to stay again.”
Arthur nodded tightly. He cleared his throat. He was hoarse when he said, “Linus.”
“Yes, Arthur?”
“Stay. Here. With us. With me.”
Linus could barely breathe. “Yes. Always. Yes. For them. For you. For—”
He was being kissed. He hadn’t even seen Arthur move. One moment, he thought he was about to break, and the next, his face was cupped in warm hands, and lips were pressed against his own. He felt as if he were on fire, burning from the inside out. He reached up, putting his hands atop Arthur’s, holding them in place. He never wanted this moment to end. For all the love songs he’d ever listened to in his life, he hadn’t been prepared for how a moment like this could feel.
Arthur pulled away, and began to laugh as Linus frantically kissed his chin and cheeks, his nose and forehead. Arthur dropped his hands and wrapped his arms around Linus, holding him close. Linus could hear the children cheering in the house as they began to sway in the light from a setting sun.
“I’m sorry,” Linus whispered into Arthur’s throat, never wanting this moment to end.
Arthur held him tighter. “You silly, delightful man. There is nothing to be sorry for. You fought for us. I could never be angry with you for that. How I cherish you.”
Linus felt his heart settle in his chest.
As they continued to sway to a song only they could hear, the sun finally sank below the horizon, and all was right in this tiny little corner of the world.
Don’t you wish you were here?
EPILOGUE
On a warm spring Thursday afternoon, the sound of an old truck coming up the road to the house filled the air.
Linus looked up from where he was pulling weeds, wiping a hand across his brow, leaving behind a smudge of dirt.
“Sounds like Helen,” he said. “Was she coming to see you?”