by N. R. Walker
Jack laughed. “All the bio-somethings there are?”
“All of them.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, I’d finished cooking off dinner, resurrected the couscous and served two plates to the table. I went back to the kitchen for a bottle of water and two glasses when Jack came in from being out the back with Rosemary. She’d needed to go, so he’d followed her to grab some more firewood, which he stacked next to the fire. Then he walked over to me, windswept and his nose an adorable red from the cold, with a sprig of rosemary and a wild daisy from the grass. He slid them into a small white vase and presented them to me with a proud smile. “For you. It’s been too long since I offered flowers.”
I took the vase gratefully. “They’re perfect.” I put them to my nose and inhaled everything that reminded me of Jack―earth and outdoors, sweet and unpretentious, and all that was good in the world―and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
We sat at the table and ate our dinner, with the small vase between us, and Rosemary asleep in front of the roaring fire. If perfect was a moment personified, this was it, right here.
And when we were done, Jack took my hand and led me back to bed. I was sleepy, not in an unwell-exhausted way, but in a warm and happy way. Jack lay me out on the bed and showed me every way he adored me, and I’d almost felt foolish for needing his reaffirmation of how I belonged to him earlier. He made those butterflies in my belly take flight and dance on every nerve ending; he made my heart morph into something that would belong to him always.
And I’d never doubt again.
* * *
Six Months Later…
I left Professor Tillman’s butterfly house in Launceston after spending the day with the Tillman Copper’s latest newly emerged kaleidoscope, with a printed off email in hand, and headed straight for Jack’s office in Scottsdale.
Karen greeted me first. “Lawson, so good to see you!” She looked flustered. “But Jack’s not here.”
“Oh, is he out in the field or something?”
“Um, uh.” She was a terrible liar. “He’s gone home for the day, actually.”
“Oh, was he unwell?”
She side-eyed me. “Not exactly.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Okay, well then, I’ll just meet him there. I guess.”
She grimaced, then tried to smile. “Okay.” As I walked out, I could already hear her clambering to pick up the phone.
Well. That was very odd.
I drove home, wondering what on earth Jack had gone home for and why Karen was being so secretive. Jack’s ute was parked where it always was beside the house, and I pulled in behind it and went inside.
Jack met me in the lounge room like he’d raced to greet me. Rosemary skidded to a stop beside him, both looking ridiculously happy.
“Good afternoon, Doctor.”
I smiled at his greeting. Since I’d gained my doctorate, he’d taken to addressing me as such. I think he got off on it, to be honest. “Hi. I called into your office, but Karen told me you were here.”
“Oh yes, she just called…” He swallowed hard when he’d realised he’d said too much. His ability to lie rivalled Karen’s. His eyes went to the papers I was holding. “What you got there?”
“Well… it’s a letter from the New South Wales Lepidopterist Society…”
“And?”
“It’s more of a formal request, actually.”
“A request?”
“Yes, you see, they read my journal entry on the Ulysses last month, and of course they know of my work with the Tillman Copper.”
“And?”
“And there’s a butterfly, the Pasma tasmanicus or the Two Spotted Grass Skipper, as it’s more commonly known, and it’s typically found at altitudes such as the Blue Mountains or Mount Kosciuszko. It’s bivoltine, however, researchers are claiming there’s been no summer brood this year.”
Jack stared then nodded slowly. “And they want you to look into it?”
I smiled and handed the letter over so he could read it. “Yes, hence the formal request.”
He read the first line. “Doctor Gale.” He looked up at me. “Sounds formal.”
Yes, there was definitely a doctor kink.
He went back to reading and I waited for him to finish. He looked up and tilted his head. “Did you call them?”
“Yes.”
“And? When did they want you to go?”
“As it’s summer and the wildflowers are in full bloom, it would make sense to go soon. Winter would be redundant, as the snow over Kosciuszko would make things rather difficult. Especially if we were to camp out.”
“We?”
“Of course.”
His lips twitched before becoming a smile. “Really?”
“Yes. After the last few incidents, I don’t think my parents would approve of me going alone.”
A huff of laughter escaped him. “That’s probably true. I don’t want to think about what trouble you could find in the Snowy Mountains by yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “I thought with your position with the national parks, we might gain special access.”
“Ah, so you’re only inviting me for my perks, huh?”
I chuckled. “Well, yes. And your ability to save my life if needed.”
“Well, there is that.”
He handed the letter back to me. “I could put in for some time off. I mean, the survival of a species might very well depend on it.”
I stepped in and leaned up on my toes so I could kiss him. “You’re wonderful.”
He buzzed with a cute little smile. “I know.”
“So, do you want to tell me what you and Rosemary were doing outside?”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“You both came inside as I pulled up. And I assume it’s what Karen failed to lie about when I called in.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It isn’t quite ready yet, but I wasn’t expecting you until around five.”
My curiosity was piqued. “What is it?”
“Close your eyes.”
I did, and he took me by the hand and led me out the back. I was confused as to where he’d taken me because I thought we’d gone right, but we should have run into a fence by now. But I trusted him so I kept my eyes closed. When I was in the spot Jack deemed correct, he stopped me. “Okay, open your eyes.”
We were standing to the right of the house in the next paddock, where the fence had been taken down. There were four wooden pegs in the ground with string lines between the pegs, outlining a rather large rectangle. “I wasn’t finished pegging it out when you got here.”
Was he building another house? “What is it?”
He put his hand up in a one-sec notion, raced over to the back of the house, and came back with some papers. He handed them to me.
It was a legal document with our local council insignia blazoned across the top, with the words Development Application in bold.
The applicant ― Mr Jack Brighton.
Proposed Development ― a butterfly house.
Status ― approved.
My gaze went from the papers in my hand to Jack. “A butterfly house?”
He nodded. “Your very own.”
I walked into the outlined footprint of the butterfly house and looked around. My heart swelled with emotions I couldn’t name, my eyes burned with tears. The butterflies in my belly flooded my throat and I couldn’t speak. It was the most incredible gesture, the most extraordinary gift. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and Jack was suddenly alarmed.
“Is it okay? If you don’t like it…”
I laughed, because how on earth could I not like this? “It’s perfect,” I tried to say through my tears.
“Oh, thank God,” he said, laughing with relief. He threw his arms around me and pulled me in for a hug. “You like it?”
“I love it. It’s more than I could ever ask for. You are more than I could ever ask for.”
; “I had some help with the design I submitted. Warner, of course, and Piers too, they both drew up their ideal designs and helped me with requirements. We’ll need to get a specialist architect, I’d reckon, but the plans I submitted are approved pending proper―”
“Marry me.”
He stared, his mouth open. “What?”
“Marry me,” I repeated before I could lose my nerve. He was still staring, so I explained, “Jack, there are species of Lepidoptera all over this world, but there are none―none―like those I experience when I’m with you. You are quite possibly the most perfect man, with the kindest heart, and you make me strive to be a better person. And this here—” I looked around us, the Tasmanian countryside, Rosemary off sniffing around the garden, this perfect piece of life. “It’s everything I want for the rest of my life. I want to grow old with you, right here. Marry me, Jack. Please.”
Jack put his fingers under my chin, and taking a deep breath, he leaned in and fluttered his eyelashes along my cheekbone before kissing me softly on the lips. He shivered, and when he opened his eyes, they were glassy with tears, and he nodded. He could barely speak. “Yes.”
EPILOGUE
Two years later
Jack
It was a glorious Tasmanian summer day, barely a cloud in the sky. I was at Remmy’s helping her with the finishing touches on the menu because Lawson insisted we had to spend the day apart.
It wasn’t right to see each other before the wedding, he’d said.
He was probably right, not that I was superstitious at all, and truthfully neither was he. But it gave us some time to spend with our families before the big event. My sisters and parents were with me at Remmy’s. Lawson’s parents and his brother and sister and their partners were at home putting the final touches in.
Not that they needed to. Everything was perfect.
We’d spent the better part of two years making sure everything was spot on.
It was really a very simple affair. Uncomplicated and perfect, Lawson said.
“This is the sweetest menu I’ve put together,” Remmy said as she took the last batch of pastries out of her oven. She had done the majority of the baking at the bakery but she was never happy unless she had extras and a few special bits and pieces.
“What do you mean?” Mum asked. “I thought Jack said it was a simple menu.”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Poppy chimed in. Poppy was sitting at the dining table while April was doing her hair, curling or straightening, I couldn’t tell the difference, to be honest.
Mum frowned. “Tell me what?”
“Jack and Lawson wanted to replicate the menu of their first date,” Poppy said, fluttering her eyelashes. “Such romantics.”
“It was special to us,” I added, needing to defend myself. “And it’s not simple, it’s just not fancy fine dining. It’s what Remmy put together when I said I’d met a guy I wanted to impress.” I could feel myself blush, so I stopped talking.
“It is sweet,” Remmy said. “And perfect for you both.” But then she turned total traitor and blabbed to my entire family. “It was so cute. He set up a table for two with a little vase of flowers in the bakery after closing time, and I made a basket of things for them to share. Lawson was swept off his feet; never stood a chance, the poor boy.”
“It wasn’t flowers. It was a flower. Single. Not plural.”
“Getting a single flower sometimes means more than getting a whole bouquet,” April said with a wistful sigh.
“And those are the flowers they’re having for their wedding, in their lapels, on the table,” Remmy added, throwing me right under the bus. “There were five dates, five different types of flowers.”
My mum put her hand on her heart. “Awwww.”
April counted on her fingers. “White Milligan’s daisy. Jasmine. Rosemary. Yellow daisy, and the Bursaria, of course.”
“I know!” Poppy cried. “It’s like the sweetest thing ever.”
“Are you guys done?” I asked. Pleaded. Whatever. “Anyway, the Bursaria wasn’t from a date. It’s the shrub Lawson planted at the side of our house. It’s a wedding. It’s supposed to be romantic.”
Just then, the front door opened and Dad came in first, followed by Nico and Luca, with a freshly groomed Rosemary.
“She wanted to roll in the duck poo,” Luca announced with a grin.
“Almost did too,” Dad added. “Walked out of the groomer’s place, took three steps, and aimed right for a big streak of―”
Mum put up her hand. “We get it.”
I bent down and gave Rosemary a pat and ruffled the fur on her forehead. “You look real pretty, Miss Rosemary. Got a big day today, huh?”
She gave me a tongue-lolling grin then proceeded to sniff out Remmy’s cooking in the kitchen. Yeah, she knew who had the good stuff. She padded over to Remmy, sat down in front of her, and waited for a fresh-baked treat. Remmy made baby talk to her but promptly rewarded her for being a such a good girl.
My dad, or step-dad, but really my only dad, nudged my elbow with his. He gave me a small, patient smile. “You ready?”
He wasn’t asking if I was ready, like showered and shaved. He was asking if I was ready to be married, if I was ready to change my life forever, from me to we. “I really am.”
Nico clapped my shoulder. “Then go suit up, my man. If all us men here gotta be miserable—” He shot a faux-panicked glance toward his wife. “I mean happily married…”
“Yeah, you better mean happily married,” Remmy fired back at him playfully.
Nico sauntered over to her and slid his arms around her, trying to pick at the pastries. She batted his hand away. “No touching.”
I left them then, took a shower, shaved, and dressed in the suit I’d picked out. I kept waiting for the nerves to kick in, but they never did.
When we were all suited and frocked up, we made the convoy down Stanning Road to my house. I still wasn’t nervous. I just wanted it to be done. I wanted to be married already. I wanted to start my official forever with Lawson as soon as possible.
The plan was that we’d arrive at the house at four, and I’d walk in last, walk straight up the aisle to a waiting Lawson. So I waited inside the house and gave everyone plenty of time to take their seats. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I looked at Rosemary and gave her the nod. “It’s time, girl.”
I walked out the back with her and went to the side where the butterfly house stood. It had taken a good six months to plan, six months to build, and twelve months to establish what it was today.
I paused at the threshold for a deep breath, then opened the door, and Rosemary and I stepped inside.
There inside the butterfly house was Mum, Dad, April and Poppy, Remmy, Nico and Luka. On Lawson’s side were his parents, Paterson and Bree, Mackellar and James, and they all turned to look at me.
The only person missing was Professor Warner Tillman. The old man had passed away a year ago. Lawson had been devastated and had not only lost his mentor but a dear friend. Lawson swore his legacy would live on, and I’d never been more grateful that Lawson had named the butterfly after him. The Tillman Copper would indeed live on.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off the man at the front. Lawson. Looking incredible in his charcoal suit and bow tie, of course. He grinned when he saw me, and then I noticed the butterflies.
Dozens of Tillman Coppers fluttered above our heads. Lawson’s butterfly house was now the largest living display of the Tillman Coppers in the world. When Warner Tillman had passed away, they’d moved the study to Lawson’s facility. He bred many, and they flourished enough that he could release them.
We’d been on a few expeditions to find, research, save some butterflies all over the country, but these little copper-coloured butterflies would be not only Warner’s legacy, but Lawson’s too.
And the fact they were an integral part of our wedding was perfect. The celebrant standing near Lawson put her hand out and a butterfly landed on her, making her
laugh. Luka had one land in his curly hair, and Hyacinth was trying to entice one onto her palm. Lawson had one on his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just stared at me.
I started to walk to him then, with Rosemary at my side. When I reached him, he held out his hand and I took it, sliding his palm into mine, in a feeling that was entirely of coming home. Rosemary sat at our feet, looking up at us both like she knew good and well what was going on.
The celebrant started her spiel then, only stopping every so often to appreciate a butterfly as it skipped across the air in front of her. Paterson’s laughter interrupted her once, but he’d had a butterfly trying to land on his eyelid. It was an incredibly personal, private ceremony, with our closest family and friends. And butterflies, of course.
With our hands clasped, we exchanged plain silver wedding bands, and I promised to love and honour, cherish and adore him all my days.
Lawson’s smile made my heart beat double time. “You’d once said you’d watched me become imago, getting my wings and being who I was born to be. But I could say the same about you. You keep telling me I’ve made you happier than any other time in your life, and I am grateful and humbled… and I, too, am witness to you becoming the man you were meant to be.” He took a breath and squeezed my hands. “In entomology, we have a term we call imagines. It’s the plural of imago. And if imago is one butterfly reaching its full potential, then surely we, together, would be imagines. I will love and honour you, cherish and adore you for all my days, Jack. Nothing would bring me greater joy than to be your husband.”
I had to blink back tears, though I’m sure no one was fooled. I nodded. “And I yours.”
The celebrant lifted her arm to show a butterfly on her sleeve, and with a smile, she declared us husband and husband.
Something shifted inside me, settled into place, and we kissed, sealing our ceremony done. We were quickly surrounded by our families with warm hugs and laughter while butterflies danced around our heads.
“I better go check on dinner,” Remmy said, disappearing out the doors. We all followed her, leaving the butterflies to settle for the afternoon. We sat at our dining table and ate various pastries from baskets like we’d done on our very first date. We drank locally mulled cider too, then Nico’s Portuguese tarts, laughing and celebrating.