Page 24 of Forgetting Rafe Thomas
“How did you control the constant urge to just…freak out?” I don’t know what else to say about this anxiety-riddled, jealous monster inside me that tries to claw its way out of my gut whenever I see Luna. It wants to stake its claim, but even a fool like me knows that is possibly the dumbest thing I could try to do right now.
“I can’t really answer that. I’m not so sure I did a great job of it myself, if I’m honest. Maybe that’s what helped Ella see that I meant what I said. All of that raw, unchecked emotion mightbe what Luna needs to see that you really mean what you say. You spent a lot of time bottling that up. Letting it out could be therapeutic.”
“I didn’t think I was doing that. I tried.”
Silas groans and I hear his bed squeak. “I know, man. I think she probably does too, which is why she’s there right now instead of in Chatswain City. If she didn’t have some idea of how you really feel, I don’t think she would have hopped on a plane and rearranged her whole life to be there with you.”
“She did say she wants it to work. It’s hard to keep that worry and second-guessing at bay, I guess,” I admit.
“No kidding. I get it. Keep doing what you’re doing. It seems to be working so far.” His bed squeaks again, and I remember he needs sleep. He’s got a lot of work on the farm this spring, and it’s physically demanding. I get to sit at a desk all day while he pushes his body to the limit.
“Yeah, thanks for hearing me out. I’m gonna let you get some sleep. You’ve got busy days right now.”
“I’m not too busy for my brother. I want you to be happy, and if you still need to work it out, I’m here,” he says.
“I know, but I also need to get ready. I told her I’d pick her up at eight.”
“I have no idea what time it is there,” he teases.
“Almost eight, which means you only get a few hours of sleep before you have to rise and shine and play with cows. Get some rest. I’ll message you later.” I stand from the sofa and rummage in the basket of fruit on the counter. Grabbing a banana, I wait for Silas to respond.
“I wish it was only playing. Those things can wear you out. Yes, message me and let me know how it goes. Rooting for you, big bro.”
“Thanks. Night, Si.”
He mumbles a goodbye and hangs up, leaving me to deal with my nerves all on my own again. I’m probably overthinking, especially after she kissed me yesterday and we worked through a few things, but my brilliant idea to share things we like and dislike about each day we spend together has me worried. What if she can’t think of a single good thing? What if it’s all bad?
A knock at the door startles me and I almost choke on my banana. I’m not expecting a single person to drop in, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I open the door to find Luna bundled up and ready to go.
“What are you doing here? I thought I was picking you up?”
She beams and lifts a basket. “Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I made these.”
I peer into the basket and find blueberry scones. I’m not entirely sure how she found all the ingredients at that little market, but I’m not going to complain. She shoves the basket toward me with such exuberance that I’m sure I’ll get into trouble if I don’t eat one. Not that I don’t want to. Scone or banana for breakfast? Scone, please.
Once I take a big bite, her eyes widen and brow raises in anticipation.
“Hmm, I don’t know. I think you might have lost your touch on these,” I tease.
She steps into my cottage and swats me with her free hand. “Rafe Thomas, you’re a liar. I have perfected these things with your mother’s help, and don’t pretend they are not de-li-cious.” She pokes me with each syllable, punctuating her thoughts on the matter.
I try not to grin while chewing, but it’s impossible. “Yes, they’re perfect. Want something to drink?” She follows me as I wander to the kitchen to get us both some coffee.
“Sure. Hey, I like this cabin. It’s really cute.” Her gaze shifts around the room, which is sparsely decorated. It has an old,solitary living vibe, almost reclusive but not quite so depressive. The shelves are lined with old books, most of which are in languages I cannot read, and heavy iron bookends. The mantle has two empty vases and a few decorative this and thats, but what I like best is the woodsy, cabin style of it. I’m positive it was built to entice Americans to stay here, despite it not fitting in with the general style of the area.
“I like it, but I almost wish it were a little more authentic to the area. Some of the homes on the way to the market are beautiful.”
She nods and bites into a scone. I slide a piping hot mug of coffee her way, knowing exactly what she’ll do next. She’ll blow on it three times, assume it’s cooled off, and sip it. Then she’ll say…
“Oh, that’s still hot.” She winces and slides it aside in favor of the pastry that won’t bite her when she tries to consume it.
I smile, but cover it with a bite of scone.
“So, what’s on the agenda today? Where are we going to hike?”
“The property owner showed me how to get down to the shore if you want. It’s a short walk, then a steep incline to get to it, but it looks beautiful. Or we can ask the locals in town where to go if you’d rather do something touristy instead.”
“No, no, the shore is fine. Besides, it’s close enough to the cottages in case we get hungry.” Another thing about Luna I can never forget? She eats as much as any of my brothers. Okay, and me. I love that about her. I love that she can keep up with me in just about anything, but she’s also sweet and soft and feminine. She blows on the coffee again, and this time takes a slower, tentative sip. She closes her eyes and sighs as it hits her palate. “You always make good coffee.”
