by L C Kincaide
“Me too.”
“I’ll let you get to sleep. We have a busy day of catching up tomorrow. Sleep well.”
“You too.” She cringed at her lacking vocabulary and set the phone down with a clatter and another petal drifted down. He was here and she would be with him in only a few hours! What a thing to come and hit her right out of the blue! Her mind took inventory of her clothing options for the day and mulled over the usual tourist attractions. Then she recalled their last time together ensuring sleep would not claim her anytime soon.
The weather was pleasant, warm but not sultry as it would become later in the season, and Emma spent an hour systematically emptying her closet, unable to decide between jeans or a sundress. Heels were out, nor did she want to arrive in sneakers. Eventually, she chose a sundress in a light blue cotton print and a denim jacket and leather sandals. The mound of clothes on the bed mocked her. So much fuss over an impromptu sight-seeing date with a man she barely knew and who would be leaving soon. Her reaction didn’t make any sense, nor could she control it. The image in the mirror had a deer in the headlights look, and she turned away and called a taxi not trusting herself to drive the few blocks.
She could barely breathe by the time the cab pulled up at the hotel and she dashed under the awning and stepped inside the lobby. They hadn’t agreed on where to meet and she assumed he would be somewhere in the main area. Unlike their last meeting, she was on time and her eyes swept the room to find him waiting by one of the rectangular pillars. His lips were curved in a smile and he approached, his eyes never leaving hers. Her heart raced with each of his steps.
“Miss Emma.” He said and took her in a light embrace.
She barely had a chance to react before he released her. “You look wonderful.”
“Thanks. It’s good to see you.” She tried not to appear bashful, blush nor babble as she appraised him in jeans and a casual jacket. His shirt collar was undone, and she tried not to peek into the inviting V opening. His eyes were the same intense smokey blue, and they were studying her.
“Do you prefer any part of town?”
“As long as it’s not in this hotel.” He laughed. “I’ve seen nothing else since arriving. I leave myself in your hands.”
“Hmmm. There’s a good restaurant with an outdoor patio. It’s not far from here so we can walk.”
“Brilliant!” He said and held out his arm. “Shall we?”
The cozy outdoor eatery was one of her favorite places she used to visit when she had a social life ,and thankfully, nothing had changed since then. White petunias bloomed in the flower boxes of the wrought iron enclosed patio with black iron tables and chairs. The server led them to a corner table.
“I apologize if my call caught you too much off guard. It was rather impetuous of me. I’m lucky you were free.”
“I can’t say I was expecting to hear your voice, never mind from practically around the corner.”
“Does that mean your life is less complicated?”
“You can say that.” She glanced away before speaking again. “You said you’re here for a conference?”
“I try to keep a hand in. It occurred to me I’ve been letting that part of my work slide by the wayside with all my efforts focused on the manor. Now that the work is nearly done, I am more free to pursue other interests.”
“So, how do you like being lord of the manor?”
He leaned back in the chair and regarded her. “Like nothing I ever expected. Most days I wake up and still have to remind myself of the reality. And even then.”
Emma smiled. “I think it suits you.”
“Do you, now?”
“It could be that you’re English. You looked as if you’ve always belonged there.”
He grinned at this observation and their meal arrived, hers with coffee his with tea.
“How do you get by without coffee?”
“I muddle through.”
“That was a silly question. I just take for granted the rest of the world fuels up the same way.”
“It’s what one grows up with. My parents drank tea, like their parents.”
“That is true. I’m from a family of coffee addicts. It’s strange, isn’t it — that we share the same ancestors?”
“What were the odds?”
“What were the odds of me finding out?”
“I’m ever so glad you did.”
“Me too, cousin.”
He grinned. “A very, very distant cousin.” He pointed out.
Her eyes skimmed over him. The resemblance to Mason was uncanny, but with a refinement of the features rather than his predecessor’s dark moodiness. And those eyes… he saw everything when they swept over her, and she had to make sure he had many sights to occupy him for the rest of the day.
“Have you made any more changes?”
“As a matter of fact, I leased a parcel of land to a horse breeder and we’ve struck a bargain to have the guests of the manor take lessons, or just go riding on the grounds.“
“No fox hunting, I hope.”
“No, that practice was banned. At one time, before it was a sport, foxes were considered pests. They spread disease and killed farm animals, and hunting kept the farms safe and the fox population under control. Then it became the sport of the elite.”
“I had no idea. I thought it was just a barbaric pastime.”
“Yes, that too.” He agreed.
“You can always offer skeet shooting.”
“Now that would be brilliant. We Brits love hunting in all its forms!”
“Yes, the lord of the manor title suits you very well.” She grinned.
“Enough about me. Here I am blathering on and you still haven’t told me what you’ve been up to.”
“The most exciting thing is that I became an auntie recently.”
“You did? Congratulations!”
“Her name is Ella, a combination of Elinor and Emma. I thought that was really sweet.”
“You’ll make an exceptional auntie.”
“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”
“What else?”
“Well, I’ve been spending time at the offices trying to get a grasp on my mother’s investments. She knew the portfolio inside out. The investment gurus tasked with teaching me are all likely growing horns having to spoon-feed me everything. I’m not cut out for business, but I had an idea for an event.”
Adam watched her with his familiar half smile nodding as he listened to her, and she was soon telling him her plans for the event as she envisioned it.
“That sounds absolutely fantastic. It will be the talk of the town, at the very least. I think you may have found your calling. Your ideas are brilliant.”
“Really? It’s all so new to me. I feel like I’m limping along while everyone runs past me.”
“We all have to start somewhere. Some of my earlier plans are not fit to paper the walls of the loo.”
Emma laughed. “I just love those English expressions!”
“I’m more than willing to increase your vocabulary. Seriously though, I’m glad you have found a worthwhile occupation. I think you will be brilliant at it.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence.” She said meaning it. Her circle of supporters was small, but strong, and she was happy to count Adam among them.
“This was a marvellous choice. I can hardly wait for the rest of our day to unfold.”
“Good. So, what would you like to see next?”
“I am quite content with my present view, but you would become rather bored I’m afraid.”
Not likely. Emma’s cheeks warmed, and she searched for what an English tourist might enjoy seeing. Most of the museums, though interesting, didn’t sound that special.
“
How about the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum? Your designer’s eye will appreciate it.”
“Sounds splendid.”
The cab pulled up in front of the modern glass and steel structure and immediately his eyes narrowed as he appraised it.
“You’re in for a few surprises.” She said grinning, and they went inside.
“I came here ages ago with my parents. The glass wing wasn’t here then.”
“What is your favorite part?”
“The courtyard. I thought it was so pretty and peaceful with all the plants and fountains, kind of like your hothouse, but without the ghost. I used to pretend I lived there.”
“But your family had the manor. Why would you have to pretend?”
“The manor wasn’t a cheerful place and there weren’t any plants. The fountain, besides the one buried in the hothouse, was in the memorial garden with the graves and too creepy.”
“Are you still seeing… them?”
“Not since coming home.” Only the recurring dream, but that didn’t mean much.
“Hmmm. This Museum is magnificent.” He remarked glancing at the papered walls and antique furniture. “Was it their home before? It feels like a private house.”
“It was until 1903. Her husband was a serious art collector too, and they wanted to share their treasures with others.”
The four stories of large rooms were filled with art, textiles and sculptures displayed among the furniture to evoke an intimate setting rather than showcasing the items separately under cold spotlights. For all she knew, the decor was no different from when the Gardners had lived there. They made good use of their home, unlike the Everdons. But then, these art lovers had a different history.
They strolled along the Cloisters and entered the courtyard garden.
“These are European Gothic and Renaissance influences.” He said studying the arched windows and pillars. He didn’t need to read a pamphlet to know.
“It says here the building was designed to resemble a Venetian palazzo.”
“Have you been to Venice?”
“No. Have you?”
“Not yet. But we should go to make sure they’re not making false claims.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
Emma wasn’t much for touring museums, but she enjoyed sharing this one with Adam. His enthusiasm and knowledge added to the experience, and he pointed out facets she would have otherwise missed, sometimes brushing her arm or her hand. Each time her heart skipped a beat, despite the innocence of the gestures. He was probably not even aware of touching her.
“So, what shall we see next?”
“If you’re interested in seeing more architecture, we can stroll through Beacon Hill. We’ll head back from where we came.”
They wandered the charming narrow streets of the old district, Adam pointing out the styles of Federal and Greek Revival structures.
“It seems these lanes were intended for horse traffic only.” He noted the narrow sidewalk and one lane of cobbled roadway cutting between red brick rowhouses. Painted shutters flanked the windows and flowers bloomed in the window boxes. Flower pots decorated most stoops.
“The older parts of the city are a traffic nightmare. The early planners had no idea what the future held.”
“Rather short-sighted of them.” He joked. “It reminds me of home.”
Emma felt a pang remembering where his home was and how far away. It was probably good to have a reminder of that reality before she let herself get lost in some silly dream.
“Whereabouts do you call home?”
Now that was a good question. “To be honest, I don’t know. My apartment is a few blocks that way.” She turned around. “And my mum’s condo is over there, but I couldn’t say I call anywhere home these days. Until recently, I’ve been staying at my brother’s house.”
“I’m sorry. I should have realized that with your mum being gone not long ago.” He ran a hand down her arm and took her hand in his. They strolled up the lane.
“I’m fine, just finding my way. Having to make so many decisions all at once caught me off guard.”
“I wish I could have helped.”
“You did. The flowers you sent were perfect, really beautiful. They cheered me up.”
“I’m glad. I’ll have to do it more often.”
“That’s not what I meant, but I appreciate the thought.”
“It would be helpful to know where to send them so as soon as you’re settled, you must tell me.”
“I will. Absolutely.”
“Are you ready for lunch yet?”
“Actually, now that you mention it, yes.” She furrowed her brow. “Would you like to see the harbor? The replica of the Boston Tea Party Ship is docked nearby. They do re-enactments with actors dressed as the Sons of Liberty.”
“And they toss tea bags overboard?”
Emma laughed. “It’s possible.”
“Hmmm… given my origin and obvious Limey accent, I would not feel safe speaking for fear of finding myself treading water among the tea bags.” He laughed.
“Then we won’t go there. I don’t do well on boats either.” She made a face. “We’ll go to the famous Boston Harborwalk instead.”
“Famous? That sounds intriguing.”
“Well, maybe not that famous, but it’s pretty cool with shops and restaurants.”
“Today they will see two Everdon descendants so that alone should give it a bit of a claim to fame.”
“You could be right.”
“Do you need a break? Go home?”
“No.”
“Good.” He said. “Neither do I.”
They had spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering around the harbor and the shops, or just strolling hand in hand. The lowering of the sun caught her by surprise. Too soon, the day was coming to an end, and she didn’t want it to be over. She had only hours left unless he wanted to see her again tomorrow. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask how long he was staying and the thought of him leaving caused another tightening in her chest — exactly what she had been trying to avoid.
“Since neither of us is dressed for anyplace posh, where do you think we’ll fit in?”
“Do you like Chinese food?”
“I do.”
“Why don’t we take a cab to Chinatown and walk back to the hotel from there?”
“Have I told you, Miss Emma how utterly incredible you are?”
Her heart skipped a beat at his praise and she smiled.
“I could not have had a better guide nor companion for my Boston visit. I count myself fortunate that you were available at such short notice.”
He didn’t need to know she was always available, but that he appreciated her being with him meant the world to her.
“As I recall, Mr. Kinsley, you also exceeded my expectations when I was visiting.”
“I don’t like that it makes us even. I must think of an adventure for the next time.” He stated.
If only it were that simple, she mused as he flagged down a taxi.
“So, what style architecture does your eye detect here?” Emma teased.
He glanced around the restaurant’s red walls, golden dragons, a fish tank burbling on a console, and streamers festooned from the ceiling. Woodwinds, plucked strings and cymbals drifted from the corner speakers.
“At first glance, I’d say… I don’t have a clue. But that vase is definitely not Ming though I’m sure it was made in China. The food is excellent.”
“It’s one of my favorite places for takeout, but this is much more fun.”
“I couldn’t agree more. This tea is delicious. What is it? Not Jasmine.”
“Ah, are you saying you’re not an expert on all teas?”
“I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m not. I hope it doesn’t diminish me in your esteem.”
“Well, I’ll let it slide, this once.” She joked back. “It’s Oolong. I like it because it doesn’t go bitter when it’s strong.”
“I must add this to our menu, and when you come to visit, you will have some.”
What could she do but smile politely? His invitation was genuine, of that she had no doubt, and he made it seem as if the manor was merely a drive away.
“When do you have to be back?” She asked the dreaded question hoping the answer wasn’t, in the morning. Just as before, they had become comfortable with each other only to be separated and she suspected their goodbye would be more difficult than the last.
“Sunday night. We have all day tomorrow and part of Sunday, that is if you’re still up to being my trusted tour guide.”
“I am. What would you like to see? How about Fenway Park?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not partial to baseball, nor cricket which I suppose makes me a bit of an anomaly.”
“Ok. How about the Freedom Trail, or maybe there’s a show we can see? If you’re up for a drive, we can visit Salem.”
None of the options she came up with sparked any interest and with a dawning realization she knew why.
“You want to see it, don’t you?”
“Yes, but not if it causes you distress.”
Distress. If it were only that. Yes, the manor caused bad feelings, was filled with a lifetime’s worth of memories, few of them happy. And its derelict state was an embarrassment. Unable to help herself, she looked away.
“Emma,” He reached for her hand. “It was only a suggestion. I don’t want to add to your worries.”
She met his gaze, the expression in his eyes was soft and caring.
“You’d be in for quite a shock.“ She could already hear the blimeys and who knows what other English terms existed to describe shock and horror. “Especially after being used to your manor. You’ve done so much great work in there, and ours has steadily fallen apart over the past one hundred years.”