“Freddy said that they eat the chickens. They can’t eat Henrietta. She’s special. She’s the… She’s the…” I watched her try and grasp for an important job for the chickens. “She’s the Queen of the Chickens.”
Demke lifted her higher, eyeing the confused Queen of the Chickens. “Well, we definitely can’t eat the Queen, can we, Your Majesty?”
Zelda shook her head. “No, you can’t eat any of them.” Her lip jutted out, and I saw Demke waver. We were about to have a stint as a vegetarian household; I could see it now.
“I’ll talk to the town. Maybe, uh, the chickens can just be used for egg production from now on.”
Snuggling her head under his chin, she smiled. “Thank you, Dede.” She wiggled until he was forced to put her, along with the flapping chicken, back on the ground. Cy whistled low, and I noticed two of the bigger dogs join along behind her; they’d watch over the group and guide them from danger.
The triplets stepped up in front of the assembled party, whistling loud. Bran shouted, “Listen up!” As the crowd quietened down, the boys bunched together. When they wereshoulder to shoulder like that, you couldn’t help but see that they were something special. “We wanted to thank you all for coming. We appreciate the friendship and love that each one of you has shown us over the past eighteen years. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the actions of you all. So again, thank you. To our fathers: we are the men we are because of you. We love you all. To our siblings… you know what to do.”
Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all. I looked at their companions, the boar pressed close to them, and Von, in her tabby size, wrapped around Zale’s shoulders. Even Trig sat on Bran’s shoulders. Those little shits were up to something.
“Mom, we love you so much. We promise to call you tomorrow.”
There was a smoke bomb, a pop of magic, and when the smoke cleared, they were gone. Those little bastards couldportal, and they’d just portaled right out of their birthday party.
“I’m going to murder them,” I hissed, as the crowd oohed and aahed, like it was some parlor trick.
Demke made a choking noise, which I realized was a laugh. I gave him the stink-eye, and he straightened his face. “We knew they could make a dramatic entrance, but apparently, their dramatic exits are just as impressive.”
My lips twitched, and then I was laughing too. My little babies, my apple seeds, were adults now, out there deciding the fates of the world. Nate liked to argue that I’d been the first fate they’d orchestrated, and they’d done a damn good job.
I lifted my glass. “To the turning of the wheel!”
When the cheers echoed back to me, I relished in the dawn of a new age, one filled with love, peace and empathy.
And probably a few gray hairs.
