CHAPTER ONE
Foxglove
—
It was a calm Tuesday when Fenin Masotti got a letter in the mail. The envelope was standard white, the postage stamp was an apple tree, and the return address read: 4001 Nth Road, Antler, Missouri. The name above it was Gemma Foxglove.
Receiving postage beyond bill inquiries was rare for the household, but especially for Fenin, who hardly went outside and worked from home. His housemates, Lukas and Casey Price, were more outstanding. Casey headed whatever group his friends were from, bringing around random men and women without warning or care because he just knew that many people. Lukas, younger and only a little more shy, had a loyal friend group of around five—he always talked about the same cluster of people and if a name fell away, never to be heard within the walls again, Fenin never asked questions.
Fenin handled the envelope in his hands a bit longer, turning it around and inspecting each edge of the paper. Before he could commit to opening it, Lukas wandered into the living room from the shower. His blonde hair was wild in its dampness.
"What's wrong?" Lukas sat on the other end of the couch. Turning and stretching his legs out across the cushions, he watched Fenin carefully. Because Fenin, even with as lovely and quiet and clean as he was, had his moments. Times when the brunette would stop speaking for days, stare into spaces Lukas would never see, randomly flinch and turn as if someone had called out to him. Lukas never minded much when Fenin muttered under his breath, hissing grotesque and mean words to someone— something?—Lukas couldn't ever hope to know. "What do you have there?"
"A letter," Fenin shrugged. He blinked hard and settled deep into the couch. "I haven't opened it yet. The name isn't familiar to me."
"Who's it from?"
Fenin turned the envelope so Lukas could take in the oddly stiff swirls of the sender's handwriting. "Gemma Foxglove. Do you know anyone by that name? Or just any Foxglove?"
Lukas frowned, sitting up so he could be a little closer. If not for Fenin's sake, then for his own. "I can't say that I do." He shifted. "I could stay while you open it. I won't say a word."
"Yeah?" Fenin asked, watching the blonde carefully. Nothing in his green eyes was sharp or far away so Lukas relaxed and nodded. "Thanks."
True to his word, Lukas sat quietly while Fenin read.
Beloved Fenin,
I do hope that I got the address right. It's been a long time since I've written a letter or really written at all.
This will be strange to hear but I couldn't stay away any longer. The last I saw you, you couldn't even walk yet and my sister and I still spoke. Dafne cut off ties with us when she married that woman and became someone else. But, the news is that there's a house down here in Antler in your name. My mother, your grandmother, passed away about a week ago and wanted you to have something big. Something to maybe bring you home — maybe convince you to come say hello to the rest of us that are still kicking. I would very much like to see you again. I couldn't find any pictures anywhere. I wonder who you look like.
"The rest of them?" you probably wonder. There's myself, my son Charlie, and the neighbors on both sides. Out in the city, maybe neighbors don't count for much, but they do here. They've been part of our lives for as long as I can remember and beyond even that. Our road has always been the Kaplans and the Prudhommes and the Foxgloves — and perhaps you, if you ever feel up to it. We're here.
