Page 49 of The Troll’s Summer Flame

“My... Do I get to call you girlfriend? Out loud?” Gordon whispers back, our lips still inches apart.

Only by sheer force of will do I not laugh at the sweetest, most timid question. “Yep. It’s a two-way street. I really, really like it when you call me that.”

“I never thought I would have a girlfriend at all, let alone such an amazing one. Such a beautiful one.” Gordon kisses me, sighs, and strokes my hair, smile fading when he finds some remaining crispy spots near the front. “I took off three days to take care of you. If your feet and hand feel better sooner, we can go to the lake. Fish. Go to my cabin. Cook on a campfire—or not. No, probably not. But we can catch fish and cook them on the stove.”

“It sounds amazing. And all these people in town are spoiling you with goodies? I don’t even know if we’ll need to catch fish, which is good, because I haven’t fished for anything except minnows with a kiddie pole when I was a kid,” I laugh.

“It wasn’t just for me. It was for you. They know I’m not hurt. They were worried about you.”

“Me? But... But I don’t have friends or family here, I—”

“You are part of the town. You teach the children. These people trust you with their children.” Gordon gently pushes me back into my seat and pokes around in the kitchen until he finds a broom in the corner by the fridge. “You don’t know this—but you will, soon. You will see it now, now that your eyes are opened to the paranormal world around you.” Gordon speaks while sweeping up the crumbs and clearing the bagel destruction on the table. “You’ll see some children that are not purely human. Their families have the chance to send them to schools in Pine Ridge because they believe you will keep them safe, and that... That is very precious. There are some people... My people, whose numbers are dwindling every year. You were busy all year, my Andrea. You didn’t see how many people would befriend you purely for the sake of their children—and then fall in love with you because of who you are.” He clears his throat. “That’s how I began. I thought of how fortunate the children were to have you. To have a chance to learn with beauty and kindness.” He smiles suddenly, and my heart melts. “Then I spent just a few moments with you, and I was lost.”

I don’t know what to say. Praise wasn’t a frequent thing in my house. Love, sure. Family and friends being in your business, and nagging and cooking as a form of caring? Absolutely. It’s always a double-edged sword, though, like a bowl of arroz caldo along with a lecture on being careless and going outside without a sweater or wet hair.

Praise? Rare. Precious.

Praise from the normally silent Gordon? That’s right up there with a compliment from my mother. I have the feeling that he’d like to keep talking, but he’s not sure how to navigate that.

“Was that wrong?” Gordon asks.

I love that he asks, instead of guessing. “It was perfect. I’m just speechless. Wait, the earrings, though? They’re from you?”

“Yes, but the jeweler, Mr. Stilz, was very worried about you. He made those for you, on the spot. I told him about you, and he offered to make them into tiny pianos. I liked these better, and I told him I was in a hurry to get back.”

“Wait, he made these? In the shop in town?” I turn the earrings over. I expected them to be made in some factory somewhere.

“Oh, he’s a poppart. He can manipulate gold and silver, and other metals.”

“He’s a what?” All I can picture is a breakfast pastry with icing and sprinkles.

“A poppart. Type of goblin. He made them, just for you. I mean, for you, but because of me. Eat while the food is still warm,” Gordon concludes.

I put the earrings in my ears, watching Gordon look at me while I do so.

I’m not exactly sure what to call the look he’s giving me, but it’s empowering as heck. A blend of love, longing, and fascination. “I’ll have to stop in and thank him. But I’ll thank you, first,” I purr, and oops, there’s a sultry hint in my tone.

Gordon notices it, and his fork clatters onto the plate next to his quiche. “I don’t need to be thanked.”

“I might want to thank you.”

“Well, you just did. You’re welcome. Uh. Yes! Yes, you should go into town and see Mr. Stilz and his store. You’d be amazed at all the little shops that exist in just about six blocks. The Pine Loft is just a little ways down from the jewelry store, and Madge’s Magic is just in the next street, and—”

“It’s a tiny town. I know. Hence the boredom.”

“No. Hence the chance to make this tiny town your town. You just have to try. This summer—you have time.”

“Hm. Maybe I do. But I’m still going to make time for dates with my boyfriend.”

“That’s absolutely necessary. How often do dates occur?”

“Oh... I don’t know. Once or twice a week at first.”

“Then more?” Gordon studies me like every word is being saved in an internal sacred scroll.

“No. Usually less.”

“What?” Gordon’s face is indignant. “Less! But I would want you more. Don’t dating people become married people at some point? Then they live together.”