Page 89 of Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat
Chapter Forty-Two
‘You sure we’ve stayed long enough?’ Tom watched Fee tuck clothes into her backpack. They’d toured Cornwall from end to end over the last week and he’d fallen for the place big time. Hiking the rugged coastline and checking out a few of the sites connected with the Celtic history he’d discovered a new passion for, topped his list of favourites.
‘Wemust be smelly fish by now,’ she declared.
‘What the heck are you talking about?’
Fee grinned. ‘You must’ve heard the old saying about the resemblance between guests and fish – both stink after three days.’ Her smile wobbled. ‘I don’t want to push my luck. Let’s leave while it’s going well. Anyway you want to see more of Europe and someone has a dolls’ house to finish making beforeChristmas and that’s rapidly creeping up on us.’
He backed off. Fee’s effort to reconnect with her mother hadn’t been straightforward. Many evenings he’d held her in his arms while she complained about how stubborn Maddy was. He’d smiled inside, thinking how Fee could be describing herself but wasn’t stupid enough to say it aloud.
‘Fair enough.’ Tom hesitated. ‘You sure havingnothing planned or booked is goin’ to be okay?’
Fee wagged her finger. ‘You promised to give me at least two weeks. If I haven’t converted you to spontaneous travelling by then I’ll give up.’
He plastered on a bright smile. ‘Fair enough.’ They’d bought a couple of Eurail passes and were simply going to explore anywhere that took their fancy.
‘Make the most of our comfybed tonight because it may be the last you’ll get for a while.’
‘Don’t worry. I intend to as soon as you finish packing.’ His blatant declaration of intent made her cheeks turn rosy and he burst out laughing.
For the first time Fee was sorry to leave her mother. Normally she’d breathe a sigh of relief and vow never to go back but now she heard herself promising to return as soonas possible.
‘Take care of her or you’ll answer to me,’ Maddy instructed Tom and Fee struggled not to burst out laughing. She wouldn’t ask her mother who she thought had looked after Fee for the last twenty years when she’d travelled the world with little more than her camera and her wits.
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Tom’s eyes gleamed. ‘You’d better get ready to come to Tennessee for the wedding.We’ll let you know when we’ve set a date.’
Fee swallowed down the tears burning her throat. It’d cracked the last part of the shell she’d erected around her heart when a serious, polite Tom asked Will for her hand in marriage after dinner last night. She’d been bemused when her new father launched into a whole raft of questions about Tom’s background, family and financial stability. Afterwardsshe’d asked Tom if he’d minded and he stared as if she’d grown two heads.
Why should I? Any decent man would do the same. He’s cared for you all your life even when he wasn’t officially your father. Why would he stop now?
It’d made her love both men even more.
‘We’d better leave before y’all drown in tears.’ Tom grabbed her hand and led her out to the waiting taxi. Thistime she’d turned down Will’s offer to drive them to the station because she thought it’d be easier to say goodbye here at the house.
Amid a wealth of hugs and kisses they finally left and Fee craned her neck to wave at her mother and Will until the taxi turned the corner and she couldn’t see them anymore.
‘Paris next stop?’ Tom asked.
She easily got caught up in his enthusiasmand they chatted about where he wanted to go first. In Cornwall she’d relished photographing familiar places through Tom’s fresh eyes. Re-directing her talent for observing people and their surroundings didn’t seem the impossibility it had appeared to be a couple of months ago. She’d emailed her therapist to thank him and told him briefly about her progress and the effect going to Black Cherryhad on her life, and not simply because of Tom.
‘Do they have hamburgers in France?’ he asked. Fee was all set to berate him when she noticed his broad smile. The other night she’d talked to Tom about being open to new experiences and different cultures and got a bit preachy about the whole thing – at least that’s how he’d described her over-enthusiasm.
‘You’ll get escargots ina butter and garlic sauce and love them.’
‘And you think chitlins are nasty?’ Tom retorted.
‘The rest of your family won’t touch nasty pig intestines either. Your own mother said you were peculiar.’
He shook his head. ‘Y’all don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘I’m happy to keep missing them.’
‘Fine.’ Tom sighed. ‘Take me to the snails.’
Several placesthey visited stuck in Tom’s head but it wasn’t for the reasons he’d expected. He appreciated the history and architecture all over Europe but what really spoke to him was the people. The artist they observed in a back street in Florence trying to capture the sun setting over the Duomo. A group of Parisian children laughing at Tom’s inept efforts when they invited him to join in their impromptustreet football game. His obvious enthusiasm for that particular side of travelling had the bonus of bringing him closer to Fee. Always in the background he’d been aware of her taking pictures and in the process fully returning to life, cementing the fact Tom had made the best decision in suggesting they take this trip together.
‘Did you get a reply yet?’ Fee asked, pointing to his phone.
