Lukas: Later?

Downstairs, a chair scrapes throughout the flagstones once more, Marc wrestling along with his presentation, preventing to remain right here long-term, and I roll off the bed, decided to maintain preventing too, solely not with Hayden when he will get right here.

* * *

I can’t assist watching the clock on the countdown to his arrival, time spilling away just like the land does to the ocean as I deal with the remainder of Marc’s chores in addition to my very own lighter duties. Or perhaps it spills extra like sand does by an hourglass, just like the egg timer I discover Marc utilizing after I end up early within the afternoon and return to the kitchen.

I pause within the doorway. “There’s a blast from the previous. The place’d you discover that?”

Marc seems to be up, frowning, misplaced in focus that I nearly remorse breaking till he brightens, his smile skipping like his gaze between the egg timer and me. “Discover it? The place it all the time is.” His gaze skips subsequent to a drawer within the outdated pine dresser, and naturally he’d know the place Mum stored it. “Was once my job to show it, keep in mind? Be certain that nobody received a hard-boiled egg as an alternative of a runny one to dip their toast troopers.”

I do keep in mind. I additionally keep in mind overhearing my dad and mom plotting methods to contain a child Lukas beloved however who was so cautious round them. Possibly my gaze does some skipping of its personal. Marc follows it to the stool by the Aga the place he used to sit down, watching the sand trickle whereas our breakfast eggs boiled, an area carved for him by my dad and mom, who additionally needed to maintain him. Like so many recollections this week, one other slips free. I shut the mudroom door behind me and share it.

“They spoke to your social employee as soon as.” I empty my trouser pockets, twine and a multi-tool clinking in that outdated bowl. “Possibly greater than as soon as. It seemed like a repeat supply.”

“What was, and who?”

“Mum and Dad. I heard them.”

He frowns, and I nearly remorse talking. “When?”

“I don’t know precisely. Your second summer season? Possibly your third? I feel it was the yr you got here for Easter.” All I clearly keep in mind is stopping within the mudroom with one boot on and one off, listening to half of a dialog. “They needed her to know that you would keep for longer, in case you wanted.”

Marc research the egg timer, and I’m wondering if every of his stays right here flowed quick like its sand does. He lastly says, “It wasn’t that unhealthy at dwelling.” He squares his jaw. “It wasn’t that good both, but it surely was quite a bit higher for a break. For Noah, particularly.” He meets my eye. “I didn’t know Emma and Richard did that. Possibly it labored out for the perfect.” He gestures between us, and there’s a flicker of humour I’m unsure how he summons. “Might need made this bizarre.” His smile turns sweeter. “Thanks for telling me although. I actually didn’t know they’d performed that.” It should imply one thing to him—it seems like his throat thickens. “And folks surprise why I need to come again.”

He turns the egg timer over once more with goal.

“Why are you utilizing that although? Doesn’t your laptop computer have a built-in timer?” I do know it should, however Marc doesn’t reply. I imply, he speaks, solely to not me.

“These projections verify that Love-Land Weddings has actual potential. All it wants is the seed capital. Listed here are grants choices I’ve discovered linked to rural regeneration that might complement a financial institution mortgage.”

I get it then—he’s delivering his presentation in three-minute chunks, detailing slide-by-slide why a enterprise I’d stored to myself till final week has the actual potential he talked about. Sand falls and he speaks, sounding satisfied, decided, and a fraction determined.

I do too.

Fall for Marc, I imply.

Fuck it, I’ve been falling for him for what seems like endlessly, however listening to him consider in me solely makes me fall even tougher. He’s additionally linked my idea to a neighborhood community a lot larger than I anticipated. I cross the room as acquainted faces fill his display, and I stand behind him, watching the place he can’t see me rub at an ache in my chest as an alternative of my elbow. It doesn’t grumble this afternoon. It grinds like rusting steel, however I can’t make myself care. Not when native individuals, like Jude, function on slide after slide. Marc will need to have left the farm this morning to seize this shot of him within the Anchor’s kitchen. He’s critical in his chef whites along with his arm round his husband who seems to be at Jude like he hung the moon, and I do know that feeling.

Marc hangs a moon for me too. It’s proper there within the background of one other slide, the sky inky above a bell tent, solely it isn’t on my land. “Sorry,” he murmurs as soon as the egg timer empties. “I attempted my greatest to photoshop one onto the headland, but it surely appeared shit. So faux.” He shakes his head like he did over these enterprise playing cards, as if his greatest effort isn’t superb. “That is only a placeholder. Thank fuck Hayden’s coming. I’ve to submit the ultimate slides tonight.”

It is a ultimate deadline that makes me grip my elbow tougher. So does what he says subsequent. “This photograph’s higher. My favorite.”

It’s me who fills the display now with that armful of lambs, and naturally I keep in mind Marc taking this photograph, however I hadn’t recognized I may look this completely satisfied. It transitions into one other shot he’s taken of me, and fuck is aware of what I will need to have been pondering. I stare at one thing with a lot softness you wouldn’t know I used to be a farmer used to trudging by manure and mortgage rejections.

Marc’s voice additionally softens whereas extra sand falls, grain by grain, like I do for him as he quotes info and figures that wash over my head. I concentrate on a photograph montage that includes Mum as an alternative, including to a carousel of pictures he will need to have taken whereas I used to be busy this morning.

“Love-Land Weddings isn’t solely devoted to preserving Cornish farming traditions. It additionally has entry to native specialists and their produce, their experience, and their love of all the pieces native.”

I hear the smile in his voice. It makes letting go of my elbow straightforward. I relaxation a hand on his shoulder as an alternative, and he leans into my maintain because the slide transitions to Jude’s tasting-menu samples, every miniature chunk wanting as scrumptious as they’d tasted after we shared them whereas sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

Marc reaches up, his hand protecting mine and squeezing in a method that feels so pure—so proper—I can’t assist nodding together with what he says subsequent because the sand nearly runs out.

“Whether or not every completely satisfied couple needs five-star catering or extra easy choices, Love-Land Weddings has the contacts to make their desires come to life with genuine Cornish flavours.” His gaze flicks to me over his shoulder as his sand runs out another time. “I do know what I’d select if I used to be getting married.”

I do as effectively. “Do-it-yourself pasties and a cream tea with scones heat from the oven?”

“Jam on first, then cream,” he confirms whereas clicking on the subsequent slide, the place he doesn’t solely hold one other moon within the sky for me. He goes forward and sprinkles stars throughout it.

Supply: www.seynovel.com