Page 56 of The Nook for Brooks
The sun was shining and patchy clouds provided occasional shade. The day was, in fact, perfect.
“It’s not going to rain,” I said. “Nothing’s going to spoil this.”
“That’s a shame.”
I laughed. “Stop acting like you don’t wanna do this. I know deep down—under that perfectly pressed shirt and immaculate bow tie—you’re just busting to try one of my cucumber sandwiches.”
He softened a little. “They’re actually my favorite. How did you know?”
“Look at you… cool, crisp, and keeping all the good stuff on the inside. You’re practically a cucumber in human form.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that.
I grinned and took his hand. “Come on. I’ve already found the perfect spot.”
We cut along the footpath by the bridge, and I led him to a level patch under a tree, where the river rounded the park and the reeds swayed in the breeze.
I shook out the blankets and Brooks lowered himself like he was getting into a canoe.
“See?” I said, dropping beside him. “Not a single ant.”
“I’ll reserve judgment,” he said, but the corner of his mouth tipped into the tiniest smile.
I pulled out my phone and tapped the speaker. Art Garfunkel’s “Bright Eyes” drifted into the air—soft, clear, a little heartbreaking. The gentle sound of the river acted as a background chorus.
“Isn’t this fromWatership Down?” Brooks identified almost immediately.
“Uh-huh. I think I love the movie almost as much as I love the book.”
“You do know this story was written simply to make us all cry our eyes out. I still go a little tharn when I see a set of headlights coming toward me.”
“I can totally see that happening,” I said, teasing him. I stretched out on the blanket. “But it’s so much more than a sad story about a bunch of cute rabbits. It’s about leaving safety behind when you don’t really want to, because the ground under you isn’t safe anymore. It’s about finding a place where you can breathe, even if you don’t know what it looks like until you stumble onto it. When I read it as a boy, I thought it was a kids’ adventure story. But when I came back to it later, I realized it was about your found family. About the people—well, rabbits—who make it possible to keep going. Not the heroes at the front of the pack, but the quiet ones, the stubborn ones, theones who refuse to leave anyone behind. That’s what makes it different from every other book I’ve ever read. It teaches you the world can be brutal, but it doesn’t mean you stop hoping. And it doesn’t mean you stop building something worth fighting for. Even if you’re small, even if the world outside underestimates you, you still get to decide what kind of life you’ll have. You can always be true.”
I glanced at Brooks who was staring at me, a slight crinkle in his brow.
It made me chuckle. “What? Have I got grass in my hair already?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s nothing.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
He paused. “Because… because you’re like nobody I’ve ever met before.”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “Neither are you.”
He leaned in a little.
I raised myself higher, closer, and kissed him—slow and tender.
His lips softened under mine.
The moment might have lasted, but my stomach had other ideas, growling loud enough to make us both laugh.
“Shall we eat?” I asked, chuckling my way out of the kiss. “I think maybe we should eat.”
Brooks nodded with a grin. “I think we should definitely eat.”
I lifted the basket lid. “Breadsticks. Camembert. Prosciutto. Sliced pears, grapes, and gloriously briny cornichons… all as promised. Not to mention walnuts, a selection of dried figs and apricots, and Brooks Beresford’s favorite cucumber sandwiches. And because I’m not a monster, a packet of wipes so you don’t perish from sticky fingers.”
