The only part of my plan that hadn’t worked out was the trip to see the basajaun. It hadn’t mattered much—rather than hitch a ride to the mountain with one of the gargoyles, Jimmy had ridden Niamh’s nightmare alicorn like a pony. We’d wandered the mountain, touching trees and brushing leaves, hoping the basajaun would come out or that Austin might scent him. No such luck. At dusk we’d had no choice but to turn back. Jimmy and Niamh had apparently bonded, though, because that night he’d chosen to forgo video games in favor of sitting with her on her porch, throwing rocks at the mages who were flung away from Ivy House. (Yes, mages still trickled in, none of them with enough magic.)
“Not now, Mr. Tom,” I said, rolling my head the other way, looking at the buttery sunshine layering the cream windowsill.
“Yes, miss. I brought you some coffee.” He didn’t turn away.
“‘Not now’ means I’d like a little alone time before I get up.”
“Yes, miss. And why wouldn’t you, with that mage always staring, or Austin Steele throwing his weight around, making everyone nervous.”
“Sebastian is a godsend, and he only stares when he’s trying to figure something out, like why I keep messing up spells so he can teach me to do it better. Which he does. Austin isn’t making anyone nervous. He’s the same guy he’s always been. Just…hotter, somehow.”
“He might not be making you nervous, but everyone else is on eggshells when he’s around. He’s gotten much more intense.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t noticed.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I said.
“Yes, miss. Pastries are ready and waiting, and we’ll have a nice brunch in an hour or so. Master Jimmy is up and at ’em, in the shower and getting ready for his egg hunt. I’ve taken the liberty of—”
“Egg hunt?” I rubbed my eyes to try to rid them of sleep. Normally, I’d sit up and reach for the coffee, but my stubbornness had kicked in. I wanted a moment to pity my situation before I put on a brave face, and I wanted to do it in silence.
“Yes, miss. It’s Easter, remember? Egg hunts are a customary tradition for Dicks on Easter.”
I stared at him for a beat, reading nothing in his placid expression.
“When did you dye Easter eggs?” I finally asked.
“Oh no, miss, don’t be silly. I’m not in the habit of throwing away food, and there are only so many boiled eggs and egg salad sandwiches a person can eat. No, I used the plastic eggs and put money in them. Master Jimmy said that was his favorite type of Easter egg hunt growing up. I hid the golden egg very well, trust me. It’ll take him all day. I haven’t hidden the Easter basket. I don’t quite understand why you’d hide one Easter item and not the other, but Dick and Jane customs can be head-scratchers. As for Easter brunch, I’ve had Edgar set up the garden tent on the lawn. As soon as we move out that way, I’ll slip a mimosa into your hand, don’t you worry. There is no reason to be sober for this year’s Easter when you haven’t been sober in years previous. Now, if you’ll just rise and get ready, we can kick this day off to a smashing start.”
My heart ached and my lower lip trembled. He’d said he had taken care of the Easter basket, which was the only tradition I’d kept up after Jimmy was grown, but he hadn’t told me about everything else. I should’ve known Mr. Tom would find a way to make Jimmy’s last day perfect.
“Okay.” I pushed up to sitting and reached for the coffee. “Give me a moment.”
“Of course, miss.”
I showered and freshened up, pushing away the sadness of Jimmy leaving and trying to focus on being thankful he’d gotten to stay for so long.
In the kitchen, on the table by the window, waited a lovely wicker basket with a pink bunny propped up inside. Chanel sunglasses sat beside a royal-blue box of exotic truffles. A Louis Vuitton scarf took up the edge, with a black jewelry box resting on bright lime Easter basket filler.
“Mom!” Jimmy stood at the island, the contents of his basket spread across the surface, his hands out and fingers splayed. The same lime filler lay discarded on the island in tufts, his much larger wicker basket pushed aside and his stuffed bunny leaning on its side. “What did you do? You can’t afford all this!”
Closed jewelry box in hand, I leaned around him to check out his wares. Beats earphones, an iPad, Prada sunglasses—
“Are you serious with this?” He shook a box at me, forcing me to lean back. His smile took up his whole face and his eyes gleamed, reminding me of the Christmas he got a Game Boy and about peed himself with excitement. “Are you serious with this?”