Eduardo's Arc

Chapter 99 of 115

The house held a life now. Bed, chairs, a table by the window, a fire in the hearth. But every board in it came from other hands. Eduardo woke one morning and knew the house was not truly shared until the people who built it had sat inside it. He turned to Kiersten. "I want to have them here," he said. "Everyone who raised these walls. One meal." Kiersten studied him. "You've never thrown a gathering in your life." "No." That was the fear. He knew how to perform for a crowd. Charm them, sell them, win them. He did not know how to just feed people without turning it into a show about himself. He went to Festive first. The man had taught him the groove principle, how anxious thoughts cut deeper the more he rehearsed them. Eduardo found him walking the edge of a field. "I'm afraid I'll make it about me," Eduardo said. Festive did not stop walking. "Then don't plan a speech. Plan where people sit." He went quiet. "A host disappears. The food stays." Eduardo sought Father next. The priest looked at him a long moment. "You want them to clap for you," Father said. "Serve them instead. Fill the cup before yours." The day came cold and clear. Eduardo did not clean the house to impress. He set the table Kiersten had helped build and left it plain. He cooked a pot of stew with his own hands. He did not practice words. They came through both front doors. Aurelius ducked under the frame, his staff left outside, the stones on his chest dim and quiet for once. Kiersten moved among them, pouring. And Emilio came last, dragging his little stool, the one he carried everywhere to sit beside people and listen. Emilio set the stool down in the middle of the room. He climbed onto it and looked around at the walls. "I nailed shingles up there," he said, pointing. "Four days. My hands hurt." He said it flat, then grinned. "Worth it." The room laughed. Eduardo felt the old pull rise in him. Stand up. Make a speech. Thank them in grand words so they would see how changed he was. He felt the groove of it, deep and smooth. He stayed in his chair. He filled Aurelius's bowl. He filled Emilio's. He went around the table and filled every cup before he touched his own. "You built this with me," he said. Four words. He did not add more. He sat. Aurelius set down his bowl. "Then it's a home," he said. Nothing else. The meal went long. No one watched Eduardo. They watched each other. He had wanted that and not known it until now. When the last wagon rolled off, Kiersten stood in the doorway beside him. "You didn't perform," she said. "No." "Now it's really ours." She looked back at the empty chairs. "But a full table means people will keep coming. Some you won't want to see."