CHAPTER 10:

This amazing night wrought a change in my life, for the better, of course. This possible soon-to-be new addition to my life caused me to work harder, and push farther, in my money-making attempts, and in the expansion of my farm. I worried no more, about the surety of Gray's love, and merely enjoyed it, while giving the same back.

Summer had engulfed spring; the town was enjoying hot days and cool breezes. Kai came again, only to show up at my farm to invite me to his shop again. He didn't know of the events that had transpired, only of what he had seen last year. Gray was down at my farm, helping me water the rows and rows of pineapple plants. He was always doing small things like that, helping me in tiny ways, arriving to talk, and upgrading my tools himself. He told me that it was his way of thanking me for all the rainy days I sat and watched him work, sometimes keeping a stream of conversation open, other times just sitting, observing. I never knew how much that really meant to him.

Anyway, Kai came to my farm. Gray went unnoticed, because he was kneeling in the

tall farm grass, weeding. Kai came right up to me and leaned over, watching my hands.

"Hello, Kai! I guess the shop is opening?" I looked up.

He grinned. "Yes, it is! You'll come down, won't you?"

"Of course I will."

"Maybe when you come, we can sit down and have a soda together, or something."

I stopped, wondering if he knew that Gray had stood up, and was glowering fiercely at him. Kai sensed something behind him, turned, and jumped a bit, unpleasantly startled.

"Oh, hello Gray…um…let me guess…you two are…kind of together?" He ventured, glancing back and forth at us.

Gray folded his arms. "You could say that."

Kai smiled nervously. "Well, then, never mind Claire! Just kidding! See you around, Gray!" Gray watched him sink off, arms still folded. He then turned back to me, and mumbled; "Now I see why Rick doesn't like him. Soda together, right." The fierceness had dissipated from his eyes, and, his good humor restored at the sight of my affectionate face, he went back to work. Gray was very protective of me, and also very possessive. I didn't mind, and felt pleased that he valued me that much.

This was truly the year for celebrations, because Karen and Rick soon followed Elli and Doctor's example, getting married on a hot day towards the end of summer. Rick was dressed in a bright white tux, matching Karen's somewhat skimpy wedding dress, complete with a voluminous veil trailing behind. I was secretly of the opinion that Rick's tux made him look slightly scary, all washed out, with his orange hair standing out like a flame on top of a white candle.

They were married in the church, minus the fragrant flowers bedecking the walls, and only a very small bouquet for the bride. Karen looked vindicated during the wedding, while Rick looked even paler than usual. As I considered the scene from my pew, I weighed the possibility that she actually had blackmailed Rick into a wedding. I whispered my suspicions to Gray, who was sitting beside me. His eyes closed, and he smiled, obviously using every ounce of self-control he had, to try and not laugh at the funny scene in our heads, Karen dragging Rick by the ear, clad in her short white dress.

This caused me to ponder my own wedding – whenever that would be. I didn't want a dress like Karen's, short and rather plain, nor did I want a dress like Elli's, with all of the ruffles and furbelows. I would make my own when the time came. What did I want Gray to wear? I stole a furtive glance up at his still smirking face. He would look terrible in white, I was sure of that. Black would be his best color, and I could replace his old tattered tan hat, just for the special occasion.

I was so caught up in my daydreams, that I did not realize the wedding was over, when the time came. Gray was forced to shake my shoulders, and even then, it took a few seconds before I could make much sense. He understood, and took my hand, to begin the silent but comfortable journey down the road. Fortunately, I was not struck by any flying bundles of flora and fauna.

The day came, when Gray asked me to go watch the fireworks with him, and enjoy one of the last days of summer. I dressed quickly in my favorite pink overalls, brushed my hair, bleached platinum by the sun, and set out, breathing in deeply, inhaling this beautiful last day of summer, hot as an oven.

I could see the heat coming off of the cobblestones, and frowned, thinking of how hot the sand would be on the beach. I walked along the street, shuffling my feet, and thinking of how flushed Gray had looked the day before, when I had dropped by to say hello. He had been breathing faster than usual, and dropped a cup of agates all over the floor. I left quickly, because Saibara seemed to view me as the main source of the commotion.

I came to the entrance, walked onto the beach, and looked around. I saw Karen, Elli, Popuri, and Ann, without their respective partners. Ann waved, and I returned the salutation, to all the girls.

"Hey Claire!" I turned around quickly, and was a bit jittery to find that the boys, every one of them, were entering the beach, Gray's tall carrot head to be seen among them.

I ran to him. "Gray! I'm glad to see you! Shall we go claim our pier?"

He smiled in that way of his, closing his eyes, and dropping his head. "Yes, it's already starting to get dark. Umm… how are you doing today?" He suddenly looked rather sick.

"I'm fine, but how are you? You look queasy. Are you sure you're okay?" He nodded. We reached the end of the pier, sat down, and I took off my tennis shoes, to dip my feet in the salty-smelling ocean. The sun fell down in a fiery cataclysm of vividly colored light, as beautiful as any firework, and fell beneath the horizon, looking as though it had been quenched by the shimmering waves. With a jolt, I realized that this was the very day that Gray had first sat beside me, and the first time our hands had ever touched. Instinctively, I moved closer to Gray, and settled contentedly, swirling my feet in the

warm water.

The fireworks started to burst in the air, filling my eyes with light, not quite as bright as the setting sun, but fabulous nonetheless. Gray shifted beside me, and spoke up, rather huskily.

"Claire, I have something to tell you, or rather, ask you." My face grew hot.

"What could that be?" My voice sounded squeaky in my head.

"Well, maybe this would explain it. Please don't shriek! I'm nervous enough as it is."

"His face was turned away from me, as he handed over a plain brown box, which felt empty, and did not rattle when I shook it. The material was rough and bumpy. I opened it slowly, not daring to breathe, lest I wake up and find that this was all a dream. Closing my eyes, I reached inside, and drew out in my hand, something light and fuzzy, almost like one of my newborn chicks. It was a feather, slender and downy, a soft, shimmering blue. I ran my finger over the precious thing, now dotted with glimmering droplets of ocean spray. My mind had shut down yet again, and my heart did a wild dance inside of my chest. Did this mean what I thought it did? Did I dare hope so?

I looked up at Gray, saw the question in his eyes, and, as way of answer, leaned in and kissed him, not caring who saw, be it the whole town, or the entire world.

We planned to get married in a week, but something happened that night, that postponed our plans for quite a while. Everyone in town went to bed that night, but one of us was never to wake again. Ellen died that night, peacefully in her sleep, the way that she had wanted it to end. Ann came to tell me the next morning, red braid twitching, and I mourned the loss of such a sweet woman.

I quietly made a pitcher of Hot Milk, and went to visit Elli and Stu, to offer my condolences. Stu was in a bad way, sobbing in Elli's lap, but Elli herself seemed to be full of previously untapped strength. She wasn't crying, and thanked me warmly when I gave her the milk. I was later to learn that Stu had made the actual discovery, which is what tore him up so badly. He moved in with the Doctor and his sister, and became somewhat of a son, to be a big brother to the baby boy due in about a season.

Gray came up later, with a pale, silent Saibara, and immediately sought out my eyes. A silent question was passed between us, but was quenched by a statement from the Doctor.

"The funeral will be in two days at the church, six o'clock. Thank you all for visiting."

I left, after giving Elli and Stu a final hug, and patting Saibara's shaking shoulders.

The funeral was a solemn event, filled with people hugging, crying, and reminiscing on old times. It smelt very similar to a wedding, because of the scads of flowers that were hung at the front. The gleaming, dark wooden casket that now held Ellen seemed to stand as a dampener on the crowd's spirit, until Barley got up and told a hilarious tale about when he and Ellen were children, and she put an egg in the yarn maker, just to see what would come out. It got stuck, and when her father tried to make his yarn, a whole mess of egg goo came flying out at his face. The whole church laughed at this, and the funeral ended on a happier note than it had started on.

The next morning, as I was sipping hot coffee at my window seat, and looking out at the early autumn sunrise, I realized that I had no clue how long a customary mourning period was. Was it a week? Two weeks? Was it perhaps a season? I hoped that it was no longer than that. I had already started on my wedding dress and on a secret new hat for Gray. My field was once again planted solid with autumn crops, and I had promised the sprites two bags of flour each, if they would water them for a week after the wedding, so I could have a proper honeymoon, and not be tending sweet potatoes the whole time.

A trip to the blacksmith's was wonderful, but not enlightening on that particular subject, because Gray had no more of an idea than I had. I resigned myself to the farm, and worked hard on the field, just to free my mind of the impatience that it suffered.

Autumn passed hazily, the air growing steadily colder, until I had to start wearing a long-sleeved shirt when I went outside. Gray visited frequently, and we spent many sweet evenings talking by a warm fire, and laughing at our own inside jokes. I was more in love with him than ever, and my impatience was such that I finally went to the Inn to ask the rather selfish question of Ann.

"Ann? How long…I mean…what is…oh…I mean…how long is the mourning period supposed to be?"

Ann considered this for a moment, then laughed gently and replied, "I have no clue. Go ahead, Claire, this town could use a celebration, anyway."

This was the answer that I had wanted to hear, and I thanked her. I then headed out to the Blacksmith's, and told Gray what she had said.

So I married my Gray on a cold, moist evening, at the end of autumn. Thunderclouds stirred overhead, and the grass was wet with dew. He was dressed in black, as I had predicted, and I had on my own hand made, dove-colored dress. The church was covered in the fragrant blooms of Trick Blue, Upseed, and Pink Cat flowers. The ceremony was short, but beautiful, and my attentions were mainly on the deep blue eyes in front of me, and the gentle hands holding my own.

When it was complete, we went out to the front yard to hug and be hugged by the townsfolk, who, as Ann had said, were relieved at the excitement. Lillia, Sasha and Anna presented me with a complete cookbook, to start out my married life with. Doug gave me a fatherly bear hug that lifted me up off the ground, and Manna nearly talked my ear off with advice on men. I was saved from this torture by Karen and Popuri, who both hugged me, and by Ann, who ecstatically showed me a secret blue feather of her own, hidden in her pocket book. Elli let me hold Casey, the newest brown-eyed member of her family, born early.

As the lull was subsiding, I came over to Gray, and caught the tail end of a conversation with him and Saibara.

The old man grabbed Gray's shoulders and said, "Boy, I want you to know, I…I'm proud of you, and proud to call you my grandson. I know I haven't told you as often as I should, but, I'm very proud of you. You're a good man." He then walked off, overcome by his own emotions.

Gray came over to me, shining with the praise that he had just received, and in a swift move, swept me off my feet, into his arms, and started down the road. I held onto his neck, as we made our way down the cobblestones, toward the farm. Just as we passed the Blacksmith's, the sky opened it's floodgates above our heads, loosing small, fine drops all around us. Gray quickened his steps until we were in the farm, and I pushed open the

door to his new home.

He sat me down gently. I took his hand and led him over to the familiar window seat, and sat down. He sat down beside me, and his arm slipped around my back, as we both watched out the window, at the increasing fall of rain. I was completely and utterly happy, feeling as if nothing in the world was important, except Gray, and the patter of the drops on the roof. The window partially reflected the faces of me and my new husband. That felt so funny, but good, to say. Gray, my new husband, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

Outside, raindrops fell, as if in celebration. Raindrops fell.