Signs of an early spring are working their way through the snow, all over Ketterbridge.

The glittering white blanket is starting to melt, falling in bright droplets from the trees. Birds are starting to gather twigs, getting ready to build, to nest. The temperature warms enough for a few tiny green shoots to push their way up through the unthawing ground, reaching for the sunlight.

Regardless, it’s still very cold. But that doesn’t stop my mom from deciding that we should have a picnic.

She makes so much food that packing the basket is like playing a complicated game of Tetris, one where you have to be careful not to crush the fresh-baked, steaming hot French rolls, and find a way to fit irregularly shaped stuff like small pots of honey and jam and mustard. My dad tries, Aiden tries, and I try before my mom laughingly pushes us all aside and applies her expert skills, done in a minute.

We all bundle up, but as soon as we set off across the gentle hills beyond the backyard, it feels like it's probably going to be too cold for us to actually stay outside and eat.

But Aiden is with us.

My Heliomancer turns his snapback to face forward for a minute, and by the time he settles it into its usual backwards position again, the biting cold has transformed into something much more forgiving. Still chilly enough to be believable, to bring coldness into our lungs with every breath. Just enough warmth to keep us comfortable without raising questions from my parents.

My mom is clearly happy that we won't have to give up on her idea. I see the bright expression on her face and give Aiden's hand a grateful squeeze. We exchange a small smile, and I move to walk a little closer to him.

We keep going until we reach the shoulder of the river that curves down beyond the wooded hills.

The water is thawed enough to be in movement. Silvery and shining, sending up a soft rush of sound. The surface layer of ice has melted almost completely, and a few birds brave the cold water just long enough to take speedy little baths. Nugget forgets how old he is, gets a burst of puppy energy, and scrambles over to greet them, tripping over his small brown paws in his hurry.

The air is sparklingly clear, as is the river, as is the sky. No clouds, only a few lines of smoke winding upwards from the chimneys of distant houses.

My mom finds a patch of turf by the riverside with no snow, big enough to spread out the blanket she brought for us to sit on. A grove of dogwood trees surrounds us, leafless, but bearing little clusters of bright red fruit. Shoots of winter flowers and the tiniest, unfurled green buds of springtime ones dot the ground around us.

A soft breeze stirs the air. The earth beneath us exhales its rich, loamy fragrance as my mom carefully lays out all of the packages of food she brought for our late afternoon lunch.

It’s here that Aiden and I tell my parents that we're moving in together.

“What?” my mom gasps, open-mouthed.

“Hey!” my dad yells at the same time, breaking into a gigantic, delighted grin.

“You’re moving in together?” my mom repeats, staggered, looking back and forth between me and Aiden. “As in - living together, getting a place together-?”

“Oh - look out, Mary," my dad hastily interrupts. "Your plate-"

Too late. My mom has stopped paying attention to anything else, and let her plate tip too far to one side. Everything on it goes sliding over the edge, falls onto the grass. A few grapes tumble down into her lap, one bouncing off of her knee.

“Your own place, where you’ll both live?” Her eyes are almost twice their normal size, still glued to me and Aiden. “Aiden, you asked, and Jamie, honey - you - you said yes?”

“Um…” Aiden is starting to look a little alarmed. He glances down at me, his blue eyes anxious, then looks back up at my mom. “Yes?”

“She’s fine, Aiden,” my dad chuckles. “She’s just very excited to hear that Jamie is so serious about someone, especially such a good fellow like yourself-”

“Marcus!” my mom practically shouts, seizing my dad’s arm. “Did you hear that? Jamie’s moving in with someone - I never thought we’d see - and with Aiden-”

"Yes, my love, I heard-"

"It's because I prayed," she says, suddenly very serious, and my dad bites back a laugh.

Aiden blinks in surprise, then breaks into a slow, relieved smile.

"Okay," I groan, my cheeks starting to burn. “Mom, can we please-?”

“Right, I know, I know, I’m just-” She clasps her hands beneath her chin, beaming at me and Aiden. “I'm just so happy for you!”

She and my dad both are. Neither of them will tone it down, and it reaches the point where I’m starting to get embarrassed. But Aiden doesn’t seem to mind it, not at all. His smile spreads and spreads as my parents get more and more excited. He keeps stealing little glances at me, a glowing look on his face.

His blue eyes eventually grow so radiantly bright that for a second I wonder if his magic is slipping through them. But that’s not it. This is his shade of blue, not the blue that sparks from Guardian magic.

So I give up on trying to rein in my parents. I sit back and let them chatter excitedly at Aiden, only jumping in to help him field all of their many follow-up questions. Their enthusiasm is so contagious that Nugget starts barking and jumping around, his tail wagging wildly. My mom insists on getting up to hug Aiden, then me, then both of us at the same time.

My cheeks are very red, and I have to actively bite back to urge to step in and beg my parents to chill out, but I manage not to do it.

That glow in Aiden’s eyes is from sheer happiness, and I would do pretty much anything to keep it there.

~~~~

It’s dusk by the time we head back, and the temperature dropped over the hours we spent sprawled out on the grass. My dad walks with his arm around my mom’s shoulders, so they can share in each other’s warmth.

Aiden is sharing his warmth with me, too, even though we’re only holding hands. I'm nice and toasty with it.

My dad and Aiden get the fireplace in the kitchen going, then head to the living room to light the one in there. I stay with my mom, who had to give Nugget a quick bath upon returning to the house. Aiden’s warmth melted the frozen earth around us when we were outside. Only a little, not quite enough for Nugget to dig through it. But that didn’t stop him from working his hardest at it.

He’s all cleaned up again, warm and dry, bundled in a towel in my arms. Sleepily licking at his paws.

My mom is making cider, stirring quietly and thoughtfully. The scent of it fills up the kitchen, blending with the woodsmoke smell from the fireplace.

I let out a contented sigh, feeling cozy, pleasantly tired. Everything about this moment is making me feel peaceful and contemplative. The fire snapping and sparking, comforting little sounds. The warm glow of the flames against the blue dusk light coming in through the windows. The huff of laughter I hear from the other room, mixed with my dad's.

My mom turns to look at me, fidgeting with her bright red braid. She obviously has something she wants to ask.

“More?” I let out an exhausted laugh, then set Nugget down on the rug. “Look, I didn’t say anything before, because Aiden was loving it, but that’s absolutely enough questions about us moving in together. More than enough, actually.”

My mom smiles, turns off the stove, and pours out two mugs of cider.

“I’m sorry, honey.” She comes over to sit with me at the kitchen table, slides me one of the mugs. “We’re just surprised, because - well, you’ve never sounded interested in doing this with anyone before. The opposite, really. I'll never forget what you looked like after Roger asked you.”

I pluck at the sleeve of my flannel, thinking back to the day when Roger asked. I had come over to see my parents afterwards, miles beyond stressed out, completely shaken up.

I didn't know why I had such an extreme sense of it being a near miss, a close call that could have resulted in a disastrous mistake. Why it jarred me so much that Roger thought it would be a good idea. Looking back on it now, I think I understand.

Something in me was whispering that it wasn’t right. Something I didn’t even know about yet was calling me. Telling me to wait a little longer, to just be patient.

I think about Aiden. How quickly and completely my heart leapt towards him when he came back into my life. Even at the very beginning, when I didn’t understand the clues it was giving me. It was something I’d never experienced with anyone before him.

“It’s just… different,” I finally answer. “It’s different with Aiden. I don’t know how to explain it.”

My mom smiles warmly, her chin propped on her palm.

“You don’t have to explain, sweetheart,” she says. “I can see that it's different. I can tell from how you look when you’re thinking about him. Like right now. And I understand. I feel the same way about your dad.”

I return my mom's smile, and hers widens. She puts her fingers over her mouth, trying to hide it, but it's obvious.

“I still can't believe this. My Jamie, moving in with someone - with Sarah’s boy, of all people! She used to worry about him so much, you know. She told me that things were very difficult for him, that she worried about him ever finding happiness.” My mom takes a sip of cider, leans back in her chair, and looks at me. “Seems he found it after all, didn’t he?”

I open my mouth to answer, then close it again. My mom gives me a knowing smile, then gets to her feet.

“Alright, I’ll stop now. Thank you for being patient, honey.” She gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go get some Tupperware for the leftovers. Send your dad in, would you? He can help me package everything up for you boys to take home. And here, bring Aiden some cider.”

She pours out another mug. When I take it from her, she puts a hand on my cheek. Smiles up at me for a moment before she turns away.

I head for the living room. My socks must muffle my steps, because Aiden and my dad don’t notice me when I stop in the doorway. Nugget trots in ahead of me, and my dad leans down to give him a scratch, but neither he nor Aiden turns around.

They’re both sitting on the couch, leaning back against the soft cushions, absorbing the heat of the brightly burning fire. Aiden has one leg tucked up beneath him, a few chestnut strands escaping from his snapback. He's speaking, and the low rumble of his voice warms me even before I lay eyes on him.

“-my first time moving in with someone, too,” he’s saying.

“What?” my dad asks, with a wholly unnecessary amount of drama. “You’ve never done it before? What have you been doing, then?”

Aiden shrugs, adjusting his snapback. “Traveling.”

My dad helps Nugget up onto the couch, then gives Aiden a gigantic smile.

“Well, get ready to be very happy, Aiden. It’s fucking lovely. Take it from me. You may not know this, but I live with Mary. In fact - these are her things.”

He gestures around at the room, decorated everywhere with all the stuff my mom has collected from various thrift stores and flea markets. All of it quite obviously chosen by her.

Aiden laughs, reaching over to scratch Nugget’s ears. “It's that nice, is it?”

“Living with someone you love?” my dad asks, raising his eyebrows. “Cozying up in a place that’s all yours, saying fuck off to the rest of the world for a while, and just being with your person? I can’t think of anything more worth doing. It’s the best thing. It’s the only thing, if you ask me.”

Aiden laughs again, a sweet, bright huff that makes my toes curl. “When did you ask Mary to move in with you?”

My dad takes a second, gives it some thought. “When I realized that I was wishing the days were longer, so I could spend more time with her.”

Aiden stares at him, then puts a hand over the fast-spreading smile on his face.

“Oh, that’s - that’s really - I meant like, how long have you two lived together?”

“Mmm - since Jamie was about three years old.”

“Wow. That’s a long time.” Aiden hesitates, runs a hand over his beard. “D’you, um - have any tips for me? Because I don’t want Jamie to change his mind about it. Like, ever.”

Now it’s my dad’s turn to laugh.

“Well, first of all, I doubt that will happen. I know my son, and I’ve seen the way he is around you. But second of all - just show him that you love him. Do it all the time. Find ways to make him happy, even little ones. Here’s a random example. If he ever decides that he wants to have a picnic on a day when there’s literally snow on the ground, your breath is freezing on the air, and it’s still winter outside-”

“Right, totally random example,” Aiden laughs.

“Then go fucking do it,” my dad finishes. “If it’ll make him happy, and it’s harmless, even if it’s ridiculous - just go do it. And don’t drag your feet, either. Be hell-bent on enjoying it. I mean, if you’re with your person, and you love them, you’ll probably end up enjoying whatever it is, anyways. Because they’ll be happy, and you'll get to see it.”

My dad pauses, takes a sip of his coffee.

“Thing is,” he adds, after a moment, “I don't think I had to give you that tip, Aiden. Something tells me you would do that for Jamie, regardless. Which is exactly why Mary and I are so happy that you’re the one he’s moving in with.”

Aiden blinks at him, then falls silent, absorbed in his thoughts.

My dad isn’t as adjusted to Aiden’s rhythm of speaking as I am, but he’s getting more used to it. He doesn’t needle Aiden for a response. He simply looks away, gives him a minute.

His eyes fall on me in the doorway.

“Oh, hello,” he says cheerily. “Does your mother need me, Jamie?”

I step quickly into the room, trying to pretend that I just got here.

“Yep, to load us up with a million Tupperware containers to take home.”

“Of course,” my dad chuckles, setting his coffee aside.

He flashes Aiden a quick smile, then gets up and heads for the kitchen. Aiden returns it, then looks at me, his blue eyes full of affection.

I sit down with him on the couch, and he tips forward to brush a kiss onto my mouth. I smile into it, then lean into him.

We sit together for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, both of us quiet and thoughtful.

When we step into the kitchen a few minutes later, Aiden lets out a startled laugh at the sight of all the absurdly overstuffed Tupperware containers.

“Um - we probably don’t need this much,” he tells my dad.

My dad looks up at him, arches an eyebrow.

“Do you know what will happen if I put any less than - ah, I shouldn’t be hard on you. You’re still relatively new around here.”

“Marcus,” my mom says, stepping back into the kitchen, her eyes falling on the containers he’s filled so far. “Is that all you’re giving them? You mean, stingy man! This one’s only half full!”

My dad catches Aiden’s eye, and Aiden stifles a laugh.

“Well,” I say later, on the drive back to his apartment, “We will literally never have to worry about the fridge at our place being empty.”

Aiden smiles happily. He reaches over to take my hand, leaving one wrist on the steering wheel.

“I love hearing you say that, Keane."

“Say what?”

“Our place,” Aiden murmurs, and brushes a kiss onto my knuckles.