‘You look like a superhero. You’re big,’ Barney replies poking Devon in his broad chest. Devon chuckles as Barney then pokes at his bicep through his parka. ‘You got muscles.’
Emily and I both giggle watching the scene out of the corner of our eyes while I help Emily tuck the gingerbread house into the bottom of their buggy.
‘Well, thank you. It looks like you’ve got muscles too. Are you a superhero?’ Devon asks gently squeezing Barney’s little arm. ‘Whoa, you’re very strong,’ he adds, making Barney laugh.
‘When I’m big like you,’ Barney responds, making my chest swell with pride. He’s a little boy after my own heart and is just like Devon and I were at his age. And Devon went out and achieved his dream. I couldn’t be prouder of him either.
‘I think you will be the best superhero,’ Devon notes causing Barney to fling his arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. Barney’s heart-warming actions create a little domino effect and when we say bye to him and Emily, a small crowd of children form, all wanting autographs from Devon. Hope and Jess nip over having folded up the last of our signs and having cleared up my baking bits and pieces. Hope gives me a heads-up that she’s going to get a head start dropping our stuff off at my house on their way home and I tell her we will catch up with them shortly.
Ten or so families later and Devon and I each have a takeaway mulled wine for the short walk home. Snowflakes are teasing the navy blue sky, drifting along the evening breeze as we crunch the heavier snow from earlier underneath our feet.
‘Am I not going to get to see you in all your spandex glory?’ I blurt out, feeling deliriously joyful. With all the superhero talk it occurred to me that I haven’t yet got to witness Devon in his costume besides the posters and the trailer I have watched a hundred times.
Devon splutters on his wine and gives me a side glance.
‘I mean, aren’t you wearing it right now under all those clothes? Isn’t that what superheroes are supposed to do?’ I say, grinning so hard my eyes crinkle as I skip along.
‘Ooh the secret nerd is now telling me what superheroes are supposed to do,’ Devon teases, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I stick my tongue out and shove him in the ribs.
‘We always said we’d never take our costumes off, so, I have to say I’m rather disappointed. I guess Superman will just have to remain at the top of my list as my favourite superhero of all time then,’ I tease back.
‘Oh yeah,’ Devon says with a smirk, throwing his mulled-wine-free hand over my shoulder and bending down to whisper in my ear. ‘Does that mean we need to get you in spandex, or will Spider-Man forever remain at the top of my list?’ His warm breath tickles my ear sending a shiver down my spine. I just want to wrap my arms around him and keep him close but instead I let out a laugh, hip-check him and race to my front door as I spot Hope and Jess coming up my path.
‘Great timing,’ Hope says. ‘I’m shattered. We’re going to call it a night and head off. Let us know what you guys are doing tomorrow,’ she says, wrapping me in a quick hug. Jess gives me a fist bump and repeats the action with Devon before scurrying out the gate. Something inside me stirs when Hope ever so casually says “let us know what you guys are doing tomorrow”. I like the way it sounds, like Devon being here is a more permanent and normal thing.
‘Was that a yes or no on the spandex?’ Devon says as he steps up next to me on the front step as I unlock the door Hope had just locked. I turn to look up at him and give him a dramatic eye-roll in response. But when I meet his mischievous gaze, the child within me starts jumping with glee.
‘I have an idea.’ Pushing open my front door, I quickly step out of my black boots and unravel my scarf. My house feels nice and toasty as I make to dash for the stairs. Devon follows suit. ‘Arrgh wait.’ I pause thudding into Devon as I turn round and make my way back down the stairs. Devon isn’t fazed by my smacking into him; he’s filled out a lot more since we were sixteen, but I ignore that and pop our empty mulled wine cups in the recycle bin. ‘We will need snacks.’
‘OK,’ Devon replies, simply watching my movements and holding out his arms as I begin to pile chocolate chip cookies, leftover gingerbread men, bags of popcorn and a box of mince pies in them. Then I collect a bottle of red wine and two glasses and march back up the stairs.
‘Are you moving?’ Devon asks when I push open the door to the right of my landing. I place the wine and glasses on one of the boxes and duck through the narrow gap towards my desk. Devon follows and frees his arms of the treats, placing them on the chair, looking around in awe. Switching on my twinkling lights, I survey the floor space and look over the mix of empty and full boxes.
‘No, no, it just keeps people from snooping around and seeing my drawings and stuff,’ I say, waving off my confession like it’s been no big deal harbouring that secret for ten years.
‘You made yourself a secret lair? Cool,’ Devon notes. He wanders over to my desk, looking over all the drawings I have pinned to the wall and the piles of drawings and papers sprawled out on my desk. I can tell he doesn’t want to burst my current glee-filled bubble and start questioning my need to keep my artwork a secret for all these years again and for that I’m grateful. I’d like to move past that now. He’s here and Hope and Jess know all about him now and I feel a sense of relief. Plus, I’m too excited for my plan to be distracted by heavy conversation.
‘Ha-ha, I guess I did.’ I smile as it dawns on me that yes, I guess this has been my superhero lair all these years; a secret den unknown to the world around me. ‘And speaking of lair…’ I start throwing blankets at Devon and moving boxes ‘…I think it’s missing something.’
‘A fort?’ Devon catches on making me smile. For the next ten minutes we busy ourselves stacking boxes and throwing blankets and throws over the top until we have a cave-like situation. I only pause to put on some Christmas music and pop open the wine. We have to adjust the height of the boxes a few times to accommodate Devon, and finally I nip out to change into my pyjamas and collect my duvet off my bed, so the floor is cosier and squishier, completing our fort and making me a thousand times more comfortable and fort ready.
I sit at the entranceway allowing Devon to hand me the pile of treats, followed by the wine, then I hear him shuffling around, opening a drawer or two before his face appears and he crawls in holding our childhood book.
‘How did you know I’d still have that thing?’ I ask, taking a sip of wine as he makes himself comfortable. I’m surprisingly not fussed that he found it. It makes sense to look at it in our fort. Maybe we could add a few things, I find myself thinking. Like what, I’m not quite sure. Devon has achieved the ultimate goal of becoming a superhero and I imagine he has a nice big house in New York. I’m unaware of the tree situation in Long Island so I can’t say if a tree house would be on the cards in future for Devon, and I’m just here in Springhollow being an assistant, not exactly saving the world, but I suppose a tree house could be possible for me. The park has enough trees, though I don’t have a superhero outfit like Devon has.
I let Devon flick through our book and reminisce as I lie back on the blankets enjoying the peacefulness of our fort that’s lost to the world, while I mull over such thoughts in my head. A few moments pass when I register that Devon is lying beside me, our book held in the air above his face as he continues to read and look at the pictures.