Page 27 of Our Own Light

Oliver smiled up at him. “Nah, I’m fine.”

For the next half hour, Oliver played Effie and Josephine in checkers while Floyd looked on. It was so strangely calm. Blissful, really. Oliver had sometimes imagined that there were families like Floyd’s—ones who spent time together, who laughed with one another, who enjoyed each other’s company—but he had never expected that he might become close with one of them. His own family was nothing like this.

On the surface, the Bennetts looked like every other family that Oliver had ever spent a small amount of time with, but now that he had spent time with them, he could see that they were something truly special. He could sense the tightness of the bond they shared.

It reminded Oliver of the time he had broken open one of those special rocks—the ones that were sparkly inside. At first look, the thing was utterly unimpressive—an ordinary rock, like every other rock—but once he had broken it open, Oliver had been completely taken aback by its beauty.

God, how incredible Floyd’s family was.

When Oliver sighed, Floyd nudged him again, and Oliver turned to see Floyd looking at him with one eyebrow raised inquisitively, perhaps to check on him. Oliver nodded, silently reassuring Floyd that he was fine, but as soon as he turned back around, Floyd nudged him again, more forcefully and playfully this time, which made Oliver chuckle.

“King me!” Josephine suddenly cried.

“You only say that when you reach the last row on Oliver’s side,” Effie said with a laugh.

“Well, then, what do you say when you win?”

Oliver answered, “Whatever you want.”

“Queen me!”

Oliver reached across the table and tapped each of Josephine’s shoulders.

“Oh. I think I knighted you instead,” Oliver said. “Sorry.”

“Good enough, Oliver,” Effie said. “Now it’s time for the Queen to go to bed.”

Josephine threw her head back and groaned. “Why?”

“Because it’s late, and you got school tomorrow morning.”

“Fiiine,” she relented before hopping off the couch.

Without even a parting word, she ran toward the back room.

“Want to me put her to bed?” Floyd asked.

“You stay with Oliver,” Effie said.

“I should head home anyway,” Oliver said.

Floyd pushed himself to stand. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Yes, I mean, your front door is so far away,” Oliver said, hopping to his feet. “How ever would I make it on my own?”

Floyd responded by shoving Oliver forward a step.

Once the two of them were outside, Oliver paused at the edge of the porch and said, “I really liked spending time with all of you tonight.”

“Why’d you seem sad earlier?”

“Hm?”

“You were sighing and such.”

“Oh. I was thinking about my terrible parents. We never spent time with each other like that,” Oliver said. “In fact, they rarely ever wanted me around when I was a kid. God, I can’t even fathom what it would have been like to play checkers with my mother.”

“I’m sorry, Ollie,” Floyd said, and the sweetness in his voice made Oliver’s stomach tumble. “Was there really no one you were close to?”