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Jon has a very particular order of stuffed animals—alphabetical by first name, except for Cherry, who goes after Éowyn the horse. (That’s because Cherry doesn't like Dino the stegosaurus). If Jon gets home from school and somebody is out of order, he has to line them up under his bed where his fairy lights and extra fluffy blankets are, so he can cuddle each of them until they’re all happy.
It’s a little bit complicated today because Cherry was sad xe didn’t get to be next to xyr normal partner, Aeolus. Xe has to get used to Blueberry Rose now, the newest of the line-up. (Another bunny, just like Cherry). Plus xe kept fighting with Éowyn all weekend. It’s all giving Jon a bit of a headache.
“That does sound difficult,” Elias says over the phone, and it makes Jon ache a little, the fact that Elias can’t squish them all up in his arms. Each of his animals have very different personalities, but the one thing they all have in common is that a hug from Elias fixes everything.
“It’s okay.” Jon sighs and curls up further underneath the bed. “I just want Blueberry to know she’s loved, since she’s new. And lonely. I know what it’s like to be lonely.” He squishes Blueberry tight in his arms. “I already know Cherry’s okay. Xe knows everybody.”
Jon could feel the loneliness in Blueberry ever since Elias gave her to him. She’s a pale lavender colour, with floppy ears, and blueberries and roses stitched into the cotton. Her fur is so soft , in that gentle way that makes it feel so sad to not always be touching her. Then Elias told the story of where she had been before now—horrors he can’t repeat—so after Elias gave her a bath in their best laundry detergent, Jon wouldn’t let her out of his arms.
“I don’t know, Jon. Do you think maybe Cherry is lonely too?”
“Cherry’s not lonely! Cherry’s loud and has a million friends!”
“Oh. I see.”
Jon grumbles and kisses Blueberry’s forehead in protest. Of course Elias wouldn’t understand how either of them feel. Elias barely remembers Cherry’s pronouns half the time.
“Did Blueberry do okay without you today?”
“She was feeling sad when I left for school ’cause it was raining all morning, so I put her under my sad lamp.” (Jon isn’t quite sure why a sad lamp is supposed to make someone happy, but that’s what Elias said he needs sometimes, so Jon figures the animals probably need it too.) “I don’t know if it helped very much.”
“What do you think she needs?”
“I don’t know. I can only hold her so much.”
Elias laughs softly. “That’s how I feel about you sometimes.”
“Is not,” Jon protests, feeling his cheeks get hot. “You don’t hold me enough.”
“Do too.”
“When are you coming home?”
There’s a little silence before Elias answers. “I still have some things to finish in Ny Ålesund, unfortunately.”
Jon makes a noise and buries his face in Blueberry’s fur. “I miss you.”
“I know, sweetheart. But Blueberry needs you, doesn’t she?”
“Not as much as I need you.”
Elias gasps in mock surprise. “How dare you? After everything Blueberry has gone through?”
Jon giggles and rolls over onto his back, blinking up at the rainbow of fairy lights that cover the underside of his bed. Blueberry follows him, splayed on top of his chest now, her ears fuzzy and warm across his neck. “She’s got me,” he whispers.
“And I’ve got you.”
Jon closes his eyes. He imagines being tucked into Elias’s side, his stuffed animals all around them (they don’t mind being out of order with Elias); the window open and crickets chirping beneath it. Blueberry’s nose squished into his neck. Cherry’s paw curled inside his hand. Elias’s lips pressing a kiss to Jon’s temple.
He wishes it was easier. He wonders if he wouldn’t need twelve plushies if he had Elias all the time. It feels selfish to think that.
Elias, maybe, wonders something similar; his voice is distinctly softer when he says, “Can you do something for me?”
“Yeah?”
“I think a little bird left something for you on the windowsill.”
Jon sits up curiously. He tilts his head at just the right angle so he can stay in his cocoon, but still catch a glimpse outside the bottom of the window next to his bed. There’s something there, alright.
It’s hard to contain his excitement. “Are you home?”
“One thing at a time, sweetheart.”
Jon crawls forward, keeping Blueberry safe in the crook of his arm, and reaches out to open the window enough that he can pull the strange object inside.
It’s a jewelry box: round and made of wood, painted a juniper green, with all sorts of flowers carved into the lid. It fits snugly in Jon’s hand, like it was made just for him. But it’s strange; he doesn’t wear any jewelry, ’cause his skin is too sensitive, and he sure isn’t letting anyone poke any holes in his ears. Elias knows all of that.
“What is this?” Jon breathes.
Elias just hums quietly, like Jon is the present he can’t wait to open. “Something special from Norway.”
Jon opens the lid gingerly. Inside, among a bed of cotton fluff, are two golden necklaces. He takes one of them between his fingers and discovers the charm at its center: two little cherries and a stem. The other necklace is the same, except with a tiny blueberry. Tears well up in Jon’s eyes.
“The blueberry necklace is for Cherry,” Elias says, “and the cherry necklace is—”
“For Blueberry.”
“That’s it.”
Jon can barely speak. He picks up Cherry and holds xem with his right arm; he can feel xem soften, just the same way Blueberry is in his left. “So they won’t be lonely?”
“Nobody’s lonely in the Bouchard household. That’s the rule.”
Jon sniffles and stubbornly wipes at his eyes. As long as the animals are happy and fulfilled, he is. He puts both of the bunnies down so he can unclasp the blueberry necklace, which he places very tenderly around Cherry’s neck. It makes everything soft and gentle, like Cherry’s earlier squabbliness has drained away; it even looks a little like xe’s smiling. And for Blueberry, his little champion, he puts on the cherry necklace. She gains a little sun around her, fluffy and warm and thrilled for her—maybe?—first ever friend.
“We’re only missing one more thing,” Elias says.
Jon shakes his head wildly. He was so busy with the necklaces that he didn’t notice the sounds behind him—soft footsteps, the discarding of a woolen coat, the rustle of extra sheets that hang off Jon’s bed, uncovering his little canopy. His heart feels fit to burst.
“Daddy,” Jon whispers, and he launches into Elias’s arms, with Blueberry and Cherry squished happily in-between. Nobody’s lonely in the Bouchard household.