by Various
Earlier that day he and Elsie had gone for a walk through Heart’s Ease and he’d met some of her neighbours. They were cutting wood for their stoves, storing vegetables in root cellars, mending fishing nets by hand. A handful of kids were drawing on the road with chalk, despite the Nintendo DSs and iPods he spotted sticking out of their pockets.
“I love the smell of this place,” Elsie had said, squeezing his hand as she inhaled deeply.
He hadn’t noticed, but she was right. The crisp air was a harmony of salt water, wood smoke, and the mingling of flavours from various kitchens, wafting through open windows as everyone took advantage of the warm day. Combined, they filled the air with a warmth that spoke of homeliness.
“When I was away at university I missed this smell so much. Before I’d head back I would always take a walk and try and fill up on it. When the smog and din of Toronto would get to me, I’d close my eyes and try and recall this smell.”
“Did it work?”
“Nah, it just made me homesick. I knew even then that I wasn’t meant to be far from home. I mean, I love to travel and see new places. But this is home for me. You know?”
He didn’t. While he considered Glasgow his hometown, he’d spent as much time in recent years in London, and even some time down under in Sydney. He enjoyed each place, and was happy to live there, but there was no place that really called him back. Nowhere that spoke to him as if he belonged there.
Now, as he looked around the room, he saw more than a group of people that lived in the same place. They were more than neighbours. They were like family. For all the good, and bad, that comes with it. Sure, they were a little nosy and judgmental, but Cam thought it came from the heart. They weren’t malicious. They were just concerned about Elsie, and wanted to see her happy. He could tell they were proud of her.
Suddenly, this talk became more important to Cam. This was his chance to make an impression on the people of Heart’s Ease. He intended on spending a lot of time in this community, and it wouldn’t help if they started off hating him. No. He had to have these people on his side... in case he needed it.
They proved to be an attentive audience, for the whole fifteen minutes that he actually talked about the sea birds he’d observed this past week. Then the topic shifted. Thanks in no small part to dear Aunt Ida.
“Now,” she said, standing up in front of the room after an argument over what had actually happened to the Great Auk, an extinct penguin once native to Newfoundland. “Enough of this bird talk. Who here would rather learn about how a world famous artist goes about drawing?”
No one seemed that enthused.
“Elsie,” Ida called, looking around the room for her great niece. “Elsie, come up here.”
Cam watched as Elsie gave her aunt a wary look as she slowly made her way to the front of the room.
“Now, who’d like to hear how Cam would set out to draw a picture of Elsie? Norman Smith, I knows you likes to paint. You did that mural at the school.”
A portly man with a bad comb-over nodded.
“And Olive Norman, you draws those flower pictures for the garden party. Wouldn’t you like to learn how to draw people?”
Cam blanched. He wasn’t an art teacher. He didn’t know the first thing about showing others how to draw. He didn’t know how to describe what he did. It just came to him. He didn’t think about it at all. If he could have wrung the old woman’s neck and gotten away with it, he would have gladly done so.
“I don’t know, Ms. Walsh,” he said to Ida. “It’s not that interesting watching someone draw. And I’m really not a teacher.”
He shot a pleading look at Elsie.
“Why don’t we make this interactive,” Elsie interjected. “Who here would like to learn how to draw?”
A few hands went up in the air.
“Alright, then here’s what we’ll do. We’ll set out some paper and pencils and leads, and those who want to learn can take some supplies. Those that don’t can be models. And if you don’t want to draw, or model, then you can just enjoy the food.”
She smiled at Cam. “Better plan?”
At least he wouldn’t have all eyes on him, so yea, that was better.
Before long more than half the people in the room were either drawing or posing. Cam’s teaching was a bit unconventional, especially his advice to not try and draw a replica of the person before them. Instead, rely on feelings about the person to try and capture their personality.
“It’s okay if the finished product isn’t spot on. Just have fun.”
Cam was having fun sketching Elsie. He was amazed at how different parts of her personality shone through depending on what she was doing. When he’d sketched her in the boat, she was excited and almost childlike. Now she was calm and inviting, looking away from him to chat with various people and see how they were doing.
She’d told him earlier that it was important that the community not resent the inn. It was her hope that eventually she’d find other ways to open the house up to them. Cam looked around at his art class. Men in jeans and ball caps, women in sweater sets, and a couple of teenagers who looked like they were actually enjoying spending a Monday evening with a bunch of old people learning to draw... and they were all smiling. And laughing at themselves as they compared their fledgling attempts at portraiture.
I could do this all the time!
There was no reason he couldn’t start teaching art here. Maybe every couple of weeks, if Elsie was cool with it. They could do it in the inn during the winter, and once the summer came he could have outdoor classes. By then, they might be ready to tackle birds and landscapes. And he wouldn’t charge anything. He didn’t need the money. It would be his way of giving something to the town.
There was only one thing standing in his way. He needed to convince Elsie that he belonged here. All the time. With her. Because it was clear to him that he’d found a place to call home. It was with Elsie. And if this was where she wanted to be, it was where he belonged as well. Now all he had to do was convince her that they belonged together. Forever.
——
The night was turning into one surprise after another. When it became clear to her that Cam’s talk on birds was quickly taking a nose dive into awkwardness and boredom she struggled to find a way to save him. But Ida had beaten her to it. God love Aunt Ida. Her idea was brilliant. Elsie would never have thought an art lesson would appeal to everyone, but as she looked around it was clear that this might be the most fun people had had at the inn. She normally went out of her way to create lavish events. Everyone dressed up, and she tried to create an elegant night. Afterwards, people would comment on what a lovely time they’d had, but Elsie wondered if that was the case. But tonight everyone seemed content. They were laughing, and talking, and didn’t seem as in awe of the house as they normally did.
“Paddy Doyle,” Elsie called out to a man in his fifties who was chatting with her Dad. “What are the chances you brought your guitar with you? I think a song or two might not go astray right now.”
A few people cheered.
“Come on, Paddy, play us a tune,” her mother said, sending a smile towards her daughter.
Before long the drawing had ceased, and a real Newfoundland kitchen party was in the works—although it was happening in a dining room fit for a queen.
Paddy was joined by Elsie’s cousin Nipper Walsh who was also a decent guitar player, and her Dad, who brought out his old button accordion. Chairs were pushed back against the wall to make room for a small dance floor, and as they started playing a slow traditional song, a number of couples began dancing an old-fashioned waltz.
Elsie turned down the bright lights, and stood against the wall watching. Without a doubt her neighbours were having a better time than she’d ever seen them have.
“What’s going on in that head?” Cam slid his arms around her waist, and she leaned back onto his chest.
“Just thinking about how I’ve tried so hard to plan every little de
tail to ensure everyone has a good time whenever they come over, and yet all it took was an impromptu kitchen party to make them happy.”
“Well, we know a fascinating talk on birds isn’t their cup of tea,” he laughed.
“In my defence, that idea wasn’t well thought out.”
“No?”
“No. I was just trying to cover my tracks when you caught me not paying attention.”
“You mean you weren’t interested in my vast bird knowledge?”
“Not in the least. And if you only knew the thoughts that were going through my mind— well, let’s say most of them have now played themselves out.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Really?”
She pushed herself against him and shifted just enough for her back to stroke his crotch.
“Most of them. But there’s lots of time to get to the others.”
“Tease,” he mumbled. “Any chance we can sneak out of here and you can tell me more?”
She shook her head. “I’m the hostess. Have to make sure everyone is having a good time.”
“Elsie,” he turned her to face him. “You’re always so worried about everyone else having a good time, or a good meal, or a good rest. Who makes sure you get all those things?”
“I…”
Hmph. I do.
And that was depressing. Really depressing.
“Why don’t you stop worrying about everyone else for a little while, and just have some fun for yourself?”
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. She was surprised to see Asher - Ted - had joined the band, sitting behind the others and just strumming along.
“I thought he was hiding out upstairs?” she said.
“Who could hear this music and stay locked away?” He nodded towards the doorway, where her mom and Daphne were chatting. “Even Daph stopped working and came down.”
Elsie didn’t want to point out what seemed obvious to her, but Cam’s sister and friend had been conspicuously absent all day at the same time, both reappearing within minutes of each other and vanishing in a similar fashion. Knowing Asher like she did, she thought it unlikely that they were spending their time apart. But some things were better left unmentioned. She imagined Cam had mighty strong big brother reactions and didn’t want to see them come to life tonight.
But whatever Daphne and Asher might be doing in their spare time was the last thing she wanted to think of. Instead, she basked in the joy of dancing with Cam. He was a master of the two-step.
His powerful arm encircled her waist while he gripped her hand in his. With a smooth step he led the dance, leaving her to glide in his wake. They spun in time to the music, the dining room a blur of lights and dancers. The only way to prevent herself from succumbing to the dizziness of their motions was to focus on his face. His strong, rugged face with deep dark eyes that just refused to break contact with her own gaze. They were eyes that compelled her to let down her guard and live in the moment. Eyes that implied steadfastness. Eyes that commanded she see her future in them.
Elsie had danced to this particular song many times in her life. “Black Velvet Band” was a staple that every traditional musician worth their salt knew. It wasn’t a romantic song. Far from it. It was about a woman who picks the pocket of a rich man, and puts the stolen goods into the hand of a man she’s flirting with. He gets caught and deported to Australia. Oh happy times! But as Cam sang along with the chorus, his rich Scottish baritone voice wrapping itself around her, she thought she might just melt right there and then.
“Her eyes they shone like the diamonds,
you’d think she was queen of the land,
and her hair hung over her shoulder,
tied up with a black velvet band.”
Elsie felt like the queen of the land. The rest of the words didn’t matter. She was in Cam’s arms. And she intended to stay there as long as she could. It was foolish to even pretend that a couple of nights with him were all she needed. Cam was the missing piece of the puzzle. All those times when she looked around at the inn, at all she’d accomplished, and yet still felt empty. That space was meant to be filled by him.
As he spun her across the room, she wondered how it was possible to love this much, so soon. Her heart tightened at the thought of him ever leaving her side. Sure, he’d told her he loved her in the most breath-taking way imaginable, but what were they going to do next?
Don’t think about it, she warned herself. Not now. For once, turn off that stupid brain and live in the moment.
——
Famous last words, as it turned out. The night had turned into a rip-roaring party with rum flowing freely and the music continuing until around four in the morning. That’s when she and Cam put the last of the glasses into the dishwasher and made their way up to bed. She’d never had drunk sex before, and now she knew why. It was hard to remember much about it, other than it was quick. Good. But quick.
The next morning Elsie had begged Cam to stay in bed longer. She was sure he had a hangover as bad as hers. But he’d disagreed. She’d even tried pouting when he’d said there were things that he needed to do. “Better than me?” she’d said.
“Not better, but necessary,” he’d said.
She had no idea where he’d went, but he’d taken his sister, Ted, and her father with him. They’d been gone for hours. And so had the photographers, except for one. Ida said he was a nice man, who wanted to stick around and take some pictures of Heart’s Ease and the surrounding area.
“Well, don’t think he’s coming in here,” Elsie had told her when her aunt had hinted that the fellow hadn’t had a decent meal in days. “Send him down to Mona’s for a feed of chicken and chips.”
Before he’d left, Cam had left her a list of things she could do if she found herself bored. She didn’t need prompting to do the first couple. Eating and working were pretty core events in her day. The third was interesting though.
Google me. I dare you. You might rethink your earlier statement. But at least bring your questions to me first.
She’d thought of doing it before, but after Asher, she’d learned no good could come of it. Still, she was curious.
It was harder than she thought, seeing pictures of him with various stunningly beautiful and fashionable women. There wasn’t much written about him, but most of what was, were society reports hinting at his exploits. She knew he wasn’t a saint. And she was oddly touched that he wanted her to know these things about him. That his life was sometimes lived in the public eye.
She wondered how she felt about that, given her need for privacy. But it wasn’t really privacy she craved, as much as maintaining a good business reputation. Could that be damaged through a relationship with Cam? She didn’t see how. And even if it could be, she wasn’t willing to let him go for the sake of her business. She loved him. And she was willing to see where it led.
Of far more interest to her were the reviews of his art, and the images of some of his work. She’d only seen some rough sketches. What he could create when he brought those sketches to life with paint was beautiful. He didn’t aim to create a perfect replication, similar to a photo. Instead, he brought life and motion and expression all together to create an artistic rendering of the ordinary world around him. His talent was awe-inspiring.
She spent about an hour reading excerpts from his books. He’d failed to mention that he didn’t just draw the pictures, but wrote commentary as well. No freakin’ wonder he was able to pull off a stunt like the way he’d professed his love for her.
Hell, you could haul a stranger in off the street who didn’t know him and she’d be in love with him after hearing such a tale. Even if she was blindfolded so that she wasn’t even aware of how super hot he was. You could disguise his voice so he sounded like a chipmunk and women would still fall at his feet after something like that.
Elsie was tempted to tell her mother and Ida what had happened, but she wanted to keep it secret. It was precious, and intimate. She wouldn’t share
with them details about their love life, and Cam’s declaration of love was as intimate a detail as anything sexual between them.
There was only so much mooning over a man a woman could do and still keep sane. Eventually, Elsie managed to lose herself in her work. Bookings always slowed down in the winter months, but things always managed to stay afloat because when certain guests came, they came with an entourage, and they came for a while.
Hopefully she would have enough free time to really give a relationship with Cam a fighting chance. She had already told him that she had worries over a long-distance relationship, but he hadn’t seemed worried at all. Where she was approaching things with cautious optimism, he was confident. She found it both reassuring, and a little maddening. But she was willing to try and live outside her head for a while.
A text from Cam kicked her brain into overdrive. Maximum, warp-speed overdrive.
Don’t freak out. This is just in case. But if you had to choose one, which would it be?
What was he talking about?
Then she started receiving images of dresses. Wedding dresses. What was he thinking? Her thumbs went into overdrive.
None of them. Real wedding or fake, I’m not picking out a dress this way.
Please.
No.
Why not? :(
Because.
Not an acceptable answer.
Deal with it. Not picking. And don’t come back here with one.
But what if we need to stage a wedding? ;)
Then I’ll go do my own shopping.
Come on.
No.
Ok.
And that was it? Okay? Why didn’t she believe him? And what were they doing? The paparazzi were gone.
Cam, what are you up to?
Nothing.
Where are you?