Theo of Golden: A Novel by Allen Levi - 50

Theo slipped quietly back into Golden. He had not told anyone when he might return and, by mid-January, it was not unusual for conversations along the Promenade to begin with questions, “Have you heard anything from Theo? Do you know when he’s coming back?”

He arrived in Golden near the end of the month. His first stroll down Broadway was punctuated by enthusiastic hugs and greetings that carried the distinct feel of a homecoming.

For him, the mild weather of Golden was a respite from the snow and cold of New York City. Daffodils and crocuses were already visible in the lawns of the Boughery. A spate of warm days, not at all uncommon to southern winters, had seduced flowers and shrubs into early blooms. Soon, a hard freeze, also not uncommon, would chasten those tender buds for their impatience.

But no complaints from Theo. Not that day. It was a day of welcome.

In short order, he had spoken with most of his inner circle.

Shep and Addie were doing a brisk business. Even the mild southern version of “cold weather” was good for sales at the Chalice.

Asher had added six portraits to the gallery while Theo was gone. A half dozen new bestowals.

Tony was still begging for book buyers and predicting the imminent failure of the Verbivore.

Simone was preparing with admirable diligence for his upcoming recital, still fighting headwinds with the hockey player on his back, but now with a Werner Pernambuco bow in hand.

Lamisha had written and illustrated her very first story, about a little girl with blue shoes who convinced her classmates to wear different colors.

Kendrick was still working the night shift at the college. Sometimes he sang loudly when the halls were empty.

Ellen still rode the Noble Invention up and down the Promenade, but she spent more time indoors at the Mission, especially on cold days. She had been perfecting her featherwood design and making good use of her Christmas gifts. In doing so, she was being changed somehow by ownership of those simple tools and the prospect of having a business, rising in the world by having something that she could nurture and call her own, even if it was only sticks and feathers. She was excited to show Theo her works in progress, almost as excited as he was to see them.

Theo stopped by Mr. Ponder’s office and delivered a folder of documents for safekeeping until further notice.

And with that, he settled into the fickle weeks of winter that would make up February and March. He renewed his routine of walking, reading, sitting at the river, and chatting with friends. The cold was hardly a bother.

He visited the Chalice most days.

Shortly after his return to Golden, he purchased a dozen portraits and began writing letters to the intended recipients. Though he would not be bestowing those portraits for a while, he began to compile a calendar of when, and to whom, they would be given in the coming months.

His days were quiet, but they were not wasted as he awaited the blossoms of springtime.