The Rainy-Morning Spider

One rainy April morning, as Phoebe was about to leave the house, she was startled by a tiny spider, creeping where the frame of the front door meets the wall.

“What’s that?” she exclaimed, pointing.

“Oh, that’s just one of my Spider Buddies. I know him,” said Ronan.

“You know him?”

Phoebe studied his face, incredulous.

The spider crawled down the wall a few more inches. Ronan bent down to observe it.

“He is very small. They are allowed to stay.” Standing back up, he stared at her intently. “The bigger ones”—he formed a circle with his thumb and forefinger—“those go in the jar. I take them outside.”

As soon as he had said it, he knew it was wrong. The bigger ones should stay—they were there for reasons—but some reasons are better than others.…

“Oh, you’re so brave! You capture the big spiders!” Phoebe said, half teasing him. “How am I supposed to get out?”

The spider had dropped a silk dragline and began walking, with great purpose, along the top of the threshold.

Ronan stooped down to look. “He’s heading to the other end of the sill. You can just step over him—like this.” He dramatically lifted his right foot over the threshold, straddling it.

Phoebe looked up at him, returning his smile. “We were right,” she whispered. She still liked him, after all these years.