“Thank you,” he said, with such relief it startled me.
I turned to face him, the anger fading as I watched him walk down the hill. Jackson came to my side.
“I wonder why the opinion of a rich snob matters so much to him,” I said to the mutt, whose tail was wagging.
Together we went into the garage. I put the wheelbarrow back in its place, slipped my boots off, and entered the house. Avi and Gigi sat at the kitchen table discussing sentence structure, something I abhorred almost more than anything else. I snuck up the stairs and spent the rest of the morning not thinking of Luca.
***
A few minutes after one, Thomas texted and said he was on his way. A few minutes later I went downstairs. I didn’t want to take the chance of being upstairs and having one of my sisters, or worse, Gigi answer the door when Thomas arrived. My dad wasn’t home, so I wasn’t worried about him; I was the least worried about him, anyway. Lisieux would probably tell Thomas he was dull, Avi would act crazy, and Gigi would try to be polite, but fail. She wasn’t good at hiding her feelings and since she wasn’t a fan of his, it was best she not speak to him.
The doorbell rang. Avi appeared from nowhere, making loud kissing sounds as she raced me to the door.
“Hush,” I said, to scold her, and pushed her away from the front door.
She laughed as she ran off.
I pulled the door open. He was there, his soft brown hair falling gently into his bright blue eyes. His clean-shaven face and warm smile made me wish I’d put on more makeup or at least worn the dress Avi had suggested. Instead, I was in jeans and a light blue V-neck sweater. He wore slacks and a long-sleeved button-down shirt and was somehow more handsome than he’d been yesterday.
“Hi,” he said. A picnic basket was looped over an arm.
“Hi.” There was a pause while I struggled to remember what else I was supposed to say.
“Can I come in?” he asked kindly.
“Sure,” I said, stepping out of the way.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he said, and I realized he thought my lack of etiquette was because I was overcome by his presence, rather than my general lack of social skills.
“Oh, I …”
“It’s okay,” he said, his finger grazing my arm.
The touch of his hand distracted me. Did I like him touching me? I couldn’t tell.
“Your house is beautiful,” he said. He looked up to admire the artwork hanging above the grand fireplace which we rarely used.
“Thank you,” I said. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been here.”
“My parents and I were discussing that,” Thomas said. “Mom said I was probably twelve or thirteen when I was last here.” The phone in his pocket made a noise.
“Do you need to get that?” I asked.
“No,” he said, ignoring the dinging.
He was completely focused on me, which was nice.
“Would you like a tour?” I asked.
“If you’d like to take me on one,” he said, stepping toward me. “I came to spend time with you, so whatever you want to do is good with me.”
Heat rose to my face. He was so close and his words were so sweet.
“My sisters will probably bother us if we stay inside much longer,” I said, apologizing.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot they’re homeschooled,” he said. “Let’s not worry about the house tour. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for that in the future.”
“Okay,” I said.
We stepped out of the house and I pulled the door shut.
“It was nice of you to come over today,” I said, trying to think of something to say while we walked around the garage, toward the backyard.
“It was nice of you to let me,” he said. “It’s beautiful out here.”
“All of Maine is beautiful,” I said. The gray gravel, strewn with the bright reds and oranges of autumn leaves, crunched beneath our feet.
“Not all of it, but most,” Thomas said. “Though your property is prettier than most places.” He admired the view of the fall forest and mountains which defined our property.
“It is beautiful,” I said as we entered my backyard.
“Here’s a gazebo, if we wanted to have lunch here,” I suggested.
“Uh,” Thomas said, and swiveled his head. “Do you mind somewhere away from spying eyes?”
I looked past him and glimpsed Avi’s head duck below the window in the kitchen.
“Sorry,” I said, embarrassed by my family. “Would you like to go to the beach—or, there’s a clearing that’s nice for picnics.”
I did not suggest the pond, which was our favorite fall picnic destination, at least before Luca moved in.
“I never pass up a chance to go to the beach,” Thomas said, gazing down at me.
“Me neither,” I said.
“One of the many things I’m sure we have in common,” Thomas said sweetly.
My face flushed.
After the heat in my cheeks went away a little, I said, “It’s about two miles. Is that okay?”
“Even better,” he said with enthusiasm. “I enjoy walks, especially when I’m with an interesting person.”
“You think I’m interesting?” I instantly wished I hadn’t said that. Nothing could reveal the uninteresting truth more than my own lack of awareness of being interesting.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he said gently.
Two hens scattered as we neared them. “I didn’t know you had chickens,” he said.
“We’ve only had them a few years. We like them, though,” I said.
“I bet,” Thomas said, turning behind him to look at the chickens as we entered the trail. “I’ve always wanted chickens, but my mom keeps saying no.”
“It took lots of begging to convince my dad. Eventually, my grandmother got some without asking. She said it was easier to beg forgiveness than get permission,” I said.
Thomas laughed. “I’ve always liked your grandmother.”
I was silent, afraid if I spoke I’d say something about how much she didn’t like him.
After an awkward pause, I said, “My dad likes them now.”
“That’s what I keep telling my mom. Once we have them, she’ll like them. She says I’ll just be home for another year and then she’ll have to take care of them.”
“She might have a point there,” I said.
“Yeah, she kind of does,” he said, with a tender upturn of his lips.
We walked in silence, the warm sun illuminating our path.
“Where does that lead?” Thomas asked when we came to the start of the trail leading to Luca’s house.
“Our neighbors’ house,” I answered.
“Neighbors? I thought your family owned all of Maine,” he said, joking.
I giggled. “Just this little section,” I said. It was no use pretending otherwise.
“This is definitely not a little section. Who are your neighbors? Do I know them?”
“I doubt it. Jason has lived here his whole life, but he doesn’t do much with people in town. He works hard, then comes home. His wife Sam is great, but I doubt you know her, either. Her nephew, Luca, just moved up here.”