Epilogue

Eight years later

Avery Garrett climbed out of his bedroom window and walked carefully down the catwalk that led to his tree house. He wanted to run so he could feel like Tarzan swinging through the trees but his mom had said if she caught him running one more time, he wouldn’t be allowed to go to his tree house alone—a privilege that had only been granted to him a few months ago when he turned ten. His dad had given him a solemn look that said, Do as she asks, pal. Don’t point out that the guardrails are almost as high as your head. She only asks because she loves you.

Dad would never say such a thing out loud but he didn’t need to. They understood each other; Avery couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t.

But there had been a time when he was a baby when they didn’t even know each other. He’d always known that though he didn’t remember it. The way the story went—according to his parents—there had been a short but very sad time when the two of them had gotten lost from each other and lost from him. Even though he knew every part of the story by heart, they still told it pretty often. Sometimes they showed him the pictures of Sheridan and David, who they said had loved him very much and had taken good care of him. Dad always said that Mom hadn’t wanted to let Sheridan and David adopt him but had thought it was best for him back then. And Mom would say Dad had not known about him because there had been some big misunderstandings but he had been so happy when he found out he had a little boy. Then Dad always said there was nothing lost that hadn’t been found.

Whatever. Avery didn’t care as long as they didn’t get lost from each other again.

He opened the door to the tree house, which might be just about the best place in the world. It wasn’t just a shaky little box in a tree. His dad was the best builder in America, probably even the whole world, and he’d built the tree house just for Avery. It was like a real house with lights, round windows with shutters, and a sleeping loft with a pole you could slide down. Some TV people wanted to put his little house on a show about tree houses but Dad said it was Avery’s and he was the one who had to decide about that. Avery hadn’t made up his mind yet.

As much as he liked it, he couldn’t spend much time in his tree house today. There was a party going on for his parents’ anniversary down by the gazebo that Dad had built for Mom. Even though they had never had a divorce, Mom and Dad had had two weddings. Avery didn’t remember either one but he’d seen pictures of both. For the anniversary of the wedding that had been at the farm where Uncle Luke married them, Mom and Dad always took a little trip. This party was to celebrate the wedding they’d had a few months later at the church with Mom wearing the dress that Grandma had gotten married in and all the book club ladies in the wedding. He’d been a ring bearer at that one but instead of carrying a little white pillow, they’d tied the rings around his old pal Jiffy’s neck.

So he couldn’t hang around up here long. Mom had sent him up here to get the games that they kept in the big wooden box that he and Dad had made together. His part wasn’t very good though his Dad didn’t know that, just like he didn’t know those pictures of his hanging above the fireplace weren’t anything but baby scribbles.

Once he’d asked Mom why Dad, who seemed to know everything else, didn’t get that.

She’d hugged him like she loved to do and said, “Blind love, my child, blind love. You don’t have to understand it. Just bask in it.”

Grownups were really strange sometimes. He could draw way better trees now. He liked to work on wood things because it was fun doing stuff with Dad but he liked drawing better. Hard to say if drawing was as good as playing baseball.

He filled up the mesh bag he’d brought with balls, bats, and horseshoes but there wasn’t room for the Frisbees or the NERF balls. Looked like he’d have to make at least one more trip. Maybe his cousin John Luke would be here by now and could come back and help him. He opened the shutter of the window and looked out.

Yep, his cousins were here—Emma, John Luke, and Clarice. He didn’t see his grandparents yet but Uncle Luke and Aunt Lanie were carrying boxes from Heavenly Confections. He hoped she’d brought some fudge.

Beau and Lulu Bragg were here, too, plus Nichols and Riley Scott, and Eva and Chuck Kincaid.

For the longest, he’d thought they were his cousins too. Once when he’d tried to get it straight, Mom had laughed and told him not to try too hard. “They’re your cousins by love because their mothers are my sisters by love,” she’d said.

Grownups. Ha. Coach Nathan and Mr. Brantley were cooking stuff on the big brick grill. Beau and Lulu’s dad was down there, too, but it looked like he was mostly drinking beer and hanging out. Sometimes Avery ate a real burger and sometimes he ate a veggie burger like Dad. He liked both.

Oh, gross. Mom and Dad were hiding behind a tree kissing. They didn’t know he could see them from up here.

Two more cars pulled up—his grandparents and who was that? Oh, neat! Nobody told him his Little League coach, Mr. Polo, was coming. His wife, Miss Bailey, worked at his mother’s office and their kids were Allan and Porter. They walked over to say hello to Mr. Tiptoe, Miss Carol Jane, Miss Annelle, and Miss Lou Anne. Mayor Rayford went over to shake Grandpa’s hand and help Grandma with her picnic basket. Avery had learned to stay away from what Grandma brought unless Susie cooked it.

Eva’s granddaddy, Mr. Charles, had brought Eva’s pony but they’d all be allowed to ride—well, all but Emma, Beau, and Chuck. Chuck was too little but Miss Caroline was holding him up so he could pet the pony’s nose. Of course, Beau and Emma were too big for a pony now. Beau was good at football and baseball. Avery was pretty sure they’d hit some balls later, and maybe Mr. Polo would tell some stories about when he used to play for the Yankees.

Avery was relieved when he saw his mom go to the table where Aunt Lanie, Miss Missy, Miss Tolly, and Miss Lucy were putting out the food. That meant she wasn’t kissing anymore. Another car pulled up—it was Kirby and he had a woman with him. Avery didn’t know if it was the same as the last one. He couldn’t keep up with all that.

Oh, no! His little brother and sister were sneaking toward the food table. Quick as could be, his sister grabbed a pie from the edge and they jumped under the table with it before anyone saw them.

He’d better get down there. There was no saving that pie but they were sure to go for Miss Missy’s Coca-Cola cake next and that would be a shame.

Even though he was in a hurry, he stopped and did something he always did when no one was looking. He plucked his old friend out of the front seat of his old wooden pedal truck and gave him a hug. “How’s it going, Jiffy? You know I just keep you out here because my favorite things ought to be in my favorite place. Besides, I can’t let those twins get hold of you. Dad says they could break an anvil.”

He laughed a little to himself. Silly. But he still gave Jiffy a pat when he put him back in the driver’s seat. “Buckle up and don’t drive too fast, pal,” he said.

And he ran to join his cousins and save that cake.