Page 14 of Love in Bloom

“No, we were comfortable, but there wasn’t much in the way of extra money. Mum and Dad were very frugal so we could go to university, and they could retire when they came of age.” She took a bite of her croissant. “Mmm. Ham and cheese with mustard. Delightful.”

“What did you name your chicken?”

“Paddington.”

“After the bear?”

“Of course, and Clara named hers Winnie after Winnie-the-Pooh.”

Tristan laughed. “I’m imagining you two chasing after chickens and calling for them. The neighbors must’ve found it a riot.”

“We lived in the country. The neighbors couldn’t have cared less. Mrs. Widdershins down the lane had a pig named Rex after the actor Rex Harrison. A pet’s name has to come from somewhere.”

“So it does.” Tristan tucked into his own croissant.

“Did you have pets growing up?” She wiped a bit of mustard from the corner of her mouth with a finger.

Distracted by her lips, he nearly missed answering. “My brother kept doves. I kept rabbits. I had to pick something that wouldn’t eat his birds. Disadvantage of being the younger brother. I always had to pick something he hadn’t. If he wanted to play football, then I had to choose cricket or rugby. If he wanted to learn the bagpipes, then I had to choose the trumpet or drums. If he wanted to learn the Highland Fling, then I had to choose sword dancing.”

“Why?”

“Our parents thought it best if we weren’t in competition with each other, that we needed different activities to keep it fair.” He shrugged. “I can see their point, but it didn’t always feel fair. Sometimes I think it would’ve added to our brotherly bond to have the same activities and have something in common we could talk about or help each other with.”

“Are you close to your brother?”

He looked toward the waterfall. “Not anymore.” He felt her hand wrap around his.

“I’m sorry. You miss him. I can tell.” She let go.

He turned to her. “We had a bit of a falling out. Not sure how to patch it back up.”

“It often goes that way with families.”

“Are you close to your sister?”

“Yes. She was my shadow most of the time. Not in the underfoot annoying sort of way, but there, watching and observing. Hold on a tick. I’ll show you.” She pulled her phone from her new shoulder bag.

He was pleased she’d started using it right away. It would be a nice reminder of their friendship when they parted.

She handed him the phone.

“I can tell you’re sisters, but her features are a bit different.”

“She looks more like mom, fairy like. I’m more like dad.” She took the phone, scrolled, and then returned it to him. “This was Easter.”

“A very handsome family.” Her mother was fair, a classic English rose beauty. Her dad’s hair was a bit darker, and he had a pinker complexion. Her sister’s hair was blonde to the point of almost white, and she looked as if she’d fly away if he blew too hard on her. He returned the phone.

“What does you sister do?”

“Growing up she did Irish dance. The doctor was worried about her lungs when she was born and suggested she do something robust to develop them. Ballet didn’t seem to fit the ticket, so Irish it was. There’s some Irish heritage somewhere in our family tree.” She shrugged and scooped up a handful of grapes.

“And you?” He pulled out a container of grapes and cheese.

“I was always out in the field gathering plants or in the potting shed trying new concoctions. The emergency staff knew me by name. I got more than a few scars.”

He chuckled. “I bet you did. I remember the safety protocols in the lab sometimes drove you up the wall. You were so impatient to see the reaction and result.”

“Still I respected them. My experiences in the potting shed taught me that much. I use most of the rules from the university in my own lab. It keeps me from blowing up the building.”

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