“Is that the Limited Edition Duckberg Playset?” I asked.

  “Yep,” the clerk said. Eyes never leaving his computer screen.

  “That's perfect,” I said. “Is this enough?”

  I plopped a bag of gold down on the counter.

  The clerk glanced over. “Nope.”

  Another bag.

  He shook his head.

  “How many bags of gold does it cost?”

  “I don’t want money.” He looked at me and pointed. “I want that.”

  “My shirt?”

  “No. The scarf.”

  I stumbled backwards. “I cannot give that up. My roommate-slash-grandmother made it when we met.”

  “The scarf for the playset. Think about it.” He returned to his game.

  I turned to leave.

  “Don’t forget your gold.”

  I sighed, “thank you.”

  I trudged to the door and sat on the bench out front. Snow began drifting down from the sky.

  “What do I do?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That’s perfect for Alexia’s anniversary gift… but my scarf means more—wait, does it?”

  I stood and started pacing. Fresh snow crunching under my shoes.

  “I can’t process these feelings. I love Alexia. I love Dawn.”

  The driver of a horse carriage tipped his hat as they rolled by. I tipped my imaginary hat, then entered the inn.

  “Can I get a Rubber Duck IPA?”

  The bartender nodded, then slid the glass over. I took a drink.

  A bard strummed their harp in the corner. The sweet sound wafted through the air.

  “This is worse than choosing between ramen and chicken fingers.” I leaned on the bar. “This shouldn’t be so complicated. Logic says…”

  For the first time in my existence, logic failed me.

  I downed my beer, then motioned for another.

  “Is that really the perfect gift?”

  The bartender placed a plate of fish and chips in front of me. “You gonna need a room tonight?”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I flipped a couple gold coins to him and shook my head.

  “What else would I get her?” I mindlessly snatched a chip and took a bite.

  Confused, I examined it.

  “These are fries.”

  I finished the food in silence. My mind a tornado of thoughts.

  Alexia loves Ducktales more than anything.

  I love her more than anything…

  I paused. “Wait. Is that true?”

  I stepped outside.

  I zipped my coat as the winter wind carried the ends of my scarf. I caught myself in the reflection of the window. The scarf was old. Hundreds of years old. There were loose threads, fraying on the ends, but I still treasured it.

  The scarf wasn’t about aesthetics. Dawn made it for me. Dawn was my first family. She cared for me. She set me on this path.

  Alexia.

  Spider-Man.

  All our crazy demi-god friends.

  None of that would be in my life if not for her.

  I rubbed my temples. This was only my third one, but I really hated headaches.

  The smell of porridge lured me to a giant steaming pot.

  “Can I get a bowl?”

  “I’m sorry, ser, this is for orphans.”

  “Can I buy a bowl?” I pulled a giant bag of gold from my cloak.

  “I keep coming back to Alexia.”

  I stopped outside a pawnshop, set my bowl on a bench, and looked through the window. “Maybe I can find something here.”

  Mildew, dust, and stale air assaulted my senses.

  I slowly walked through the shop.

  “Love isn’t logical.”

  I stopped at a shelf displaying a harmonica and comb.

  I picked up the comb.

  “No.”

  I examined the harmonica.

  “Not Alexia.”

  Frowning, I exited the shop.

  I sat on the bench out front watching a father and his son with a crutch walk down the sidewalk towards the soda shoppe.

  I stood and ran.

  Past the pub.

  Past the horse carriage.

  And back into the comic store.

  “I’ll do it. On one condition.” I pointed. “I want that as well.”

  The clerk smiled. “Deal.”

  I handed my scarf over, barely crying, and he handed me the large playset box, and a much smaller box.

  “Thank you, good clerk.”

  “Thank you, Reaper.”

  “How?”

  The clerk winked and returned to his game.

  Alexia and I sat at The Rubber Duck Brewery, sipping beers and enjoying crab rangoon appetizers.

  “So,” Alexia said. “Three whole years.”

  “These three years have been better than the thousands before.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

  I froze, my eyes widened.

  “Did you say person?”

  She nodded.

  Tears ran down my cheek.

  “I got you a gift.”

  “What a coincidence. So did I.”

  We swapped boxes and ripped the paper off.

  She smiled. “A Limited Edition Duckberg Playset! This is amazing… too bad I traded my Ducktales figures for…” she nodded toward my gift.

  I looked at it. A gift certificate to the Scarf Fixin’ and Paint Mixin’ Shoppe.

  I fell out of my chair, laughing.

  Alexia tilted her head.

  “I traded my scarf for your playset.”

  Her eyes widened. “But—”

  I held her hands tight, looking into her eyes.

  “I love you.”

  The Adventures of Alison Alistair and The River and Friends series - River and the Bug and The Beagle and the Robin.

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