THE REAL HEROES
Simon tugged on my left hand while my right tried to keep the rain out of my eyes. At first, I thought he meant to escort me to the comic shop. Through the window, I could see Amanda and Jon dressed up as Dyno and Mite, twin superheroes. They stood behind the counter, helping customers — There must be thirty people in line.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Patience, dear citizen.”
Water had made it through my jeans, and I shivered as it dripped down the crack of my ass. He pulled as if he were a man on a mission, and I was about to demand an explanation when we walked around the building and I saw the mill parking lot filled with cars. Like the parking around the green, there wasn’t a free spot, and cars circled, getting creative as they parked on the curb.
Barrels with arrows had been put up, all pointing tobarn doors in the old part of the mill. While a handful of stores occupied one side, the rest of the old lumber mill was nothing more than?—
“Holy. Shit.”
There were hundreds of people inside. We stood in the entryway, and I pulled my hand free. The tears were hidden by the water dripping from my hair. Simon turned around, a smile stretched across his face. When he saw me about to have a breakdown, he wrapped his arms around my torso. I needed that hug, otherwise I’d have collapsed.
“We didn’t want to let you down.”
Firefly. They… I sobbed. It was only days ago I thought about leaving. Created by geography, this family had its ups and downs. We squabbled, hurled insults, and held grudges like no other. I almost forgot the extent to which they would go to lift one of their own. I forgot the heart of Firefly Valley.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Boogie! What took you so long?”
Mom wedged her hands in, prying us apart. She handed me a towel. Over her shoulder, I spotted a folding table stacked with towels. Mom had cleared out every closet. I didn’t comment on the gentleman sitting at the table, handing a face towel to a couple of superheroes.
“You were in on this?”
She held her hands up, feigning innocence. “This is all Simon and Amanda’s doing.”
“Liar,” Simon said. “Your mom gave us everybody’sphone number. Without her, we’d still be knocking on doors.”
She squealed as I gave her a hug, lifting her off her feet. “Put me down, you brute.” Of course, I didn’t. I carried her over to the table with a handwritten sign. Drying station. “What are you doing?”
I set her down. The man sitting on the other side stood. He didn’t resemble my father, but I could see why Mom found him attractive. He held his hand out. “You must be Susan and Phil’s son.” With one sentence, Gerald put a childhood fear to rest. Mom had been right. Things might not be so cut and dry.
“Gerald,” I shook his hand. “So, you’re the man dating my mom?”
He took a slight bow. “I have no idea why that pretty lady puts up with me.”
I wiped the water from my brow. “You and me both.” Mom clasped her hands over her heart. There was something about seeing her happy that helped seal an old wound. Dad would want her to be happy. “Can I expect you at family dinner night?”
“If Susan will have me.”
“Oh, that’s not how it works. Show up. Get put to work. Eat until you’re stuffed.”
“Gerald, meet Jason’s new man friend.”
I almost giggled at my mom’s phrasing. She knew how to dodge the boyfriend word before I gave an official statement. He reached out and shook Simon’s hand.
I stared my mother in the eye as I spoke. “Simon, this is Gerald, Mom’s man friend.”
“Oh, I know Gerald. He brings me the paper when he stops by for his breakfast.” I hadn’t realized how quickly Simon infiltrated Firefly. Normally, the town didn’t warm up to newcomers, but then, how could I blame them?
“Hate to be rude, but Jason needs to put in some face time.” Simon grabbed my hand, pulling me along. At every booth I passed, the owner waved. Simon and Amanda had somehow gotten every vendor for the convention into the mill. Now it made sense why Simon stayed up all night. There was no way this could have happened without everybody pitching in.
I spotted Walter and Hank luring a handful of middle schoolers to a table covered in medieval maps. But it was Abraham in a full suit of armor, wielding a sword, that caught my attention.
“Try ye’ might in a game of Monsters & Mayhem. Will thou save the damsel?” The younger kids flocked to him, touching his metal suit. I loved that comic cons catered to an array of geeks. Firefly Con became a place for comic lovers to mingle with tabletop gamers and share space with art vendors.
