‘Very funny,’ I said with a grunt, twisting the handle and pulling as hard as I could. ‘Can’t very well conduct a Wilcuma if I can’t get out of the room, can I?’
The room did not respond. I stepped back from the door and it opened on its own, with a quiet click.
‘Appreciate it,’ I muttered, and stepped out into the hallway, making it as far as the bottom of the stairs before something told me to check the journal.
I opened the cover to see the first page was blank. And the next. And the next. I thumbed through every page, finding nothing but fresh, untouched, blinding white paper. The soft peach wallpaper warmed up to a peppery pink and I sighed.
‘This is the worse practical joke ever.’
Another glance at the book revealed the same blank pages.
With a laborious groan, I turned back to the craft room, the door wide open, waiting for me, and as soon as I stepped inside, the pages of the book were full again.
‘Libraries let you take books home,’ I said. ‘I promise I won’t take it out of the house?’
The room replied by slamming the door shut as the chair pulled itself out from under the desk. The book was too precious, the knowledge contained inside too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
‘Message received,’ I said, taking my seat and settling in to study. ‘Message received.’
Hours later, the doorbell rang, chiming through the cloistered silence of the craft room. Ashley was out again, I’d felt her leave hours earlier, off to another club or class or activity, but the house didn’t usually disturb me when I was at work so I closed my books and left the room to investigate, words fading away from the pages as soon as I stood up from the desk.
Waiting patiently in the fading twilight, his face obscured by an enormous bouquet of wildflowers, was Wyn.
‘Good evening, Miss Emily,’ he said, dipping into a bow. ‘I was wondering if you had plans this evening?’
‘If by plans you mean staring at the same six words over and over until they lose all meaning then yes,’ I replied, my heart soaring into the sky as he brought the flowers inside and placed them on a side table, the whole foyer sighing a soft romantic pink at the sight of them.
‘In that case, I have an alternative suggestion.’
He took me by the hand, leading me back out the front door and around to the back of the house. There in the garden, someone had stretched a white sheet against the back wall and set up a projector, connected to a laptop. Two sun loungers sat side by side in front of the screen and the little wrought-iron table I hadn’t so much as laid eyes on for the last few busy days was covered in sweets and snacks and sodas. There was even a miniature version of a popcorn machine, the glassed-in kind from the movie theatre.
‘I know everything is crazy right now but I want you to know I’m never not thinking about us,’ Wyn said, standing behind me, hands on my shoulders. ‘You shouldn’t have to sacrifice the things you want because of circumstances beyond your control.’
‘Like a drive-in movie?’
‘Since we won’t be able to make it over to the drive-in at Beaufort right away, I brought the drive-in to you. And the best part is, you get to pick the movie yourself.’
‘This is incredible.’ I whirled around to find him smiling, that same old easy smile I’d missed these past few days. ‘How did you do all this? When did you do all this?’
‘Today and with lots of help,’ he replied before giving me the softest, gentlest kiss, any trace of the antagonism between us blowing away. ‘Lydia loaned me the popcorn maker and Ashley helped me put up the screen. The projector and the snacks I managed all by myself.’
‘And the snacks are the most important part,’ I said, eyeing the boxes of concession stand candy, Sour Patch Kids, Milk Duds, peanut and regular M&Ms.
Wyn reached for a box of Junior Mints, tore it open and offered them to me. Truly he knew the way to my heart.
‘You’re the most important part. No point in any of this if we’re not together, if we can’t have moments like this.’
It felt so selfish, taking time away from my research to do something just for me, but when I looked at him and he looked at me, I knew he was right. What were we fighting for if not us? All the what ifs in the world wouldn’t change that.
‘Things might look different for us,’ he said, ‘than they do for other people. Different doesn’t make it wrong, doesn’t make it not worth having.’
‘Things look exactly as they should,’ I told him, putting aside the candy and taking my rightful place in his arms. ‘As long as you’re here.’
‘I’m sorry for acting jealous,’ Wyn whispered when his nose brushed against mine.
‘I’m sorry you thought there was anything to be jealous of,’I replied. ‘This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, I love it.’
Across the square, I heard the cathedral bells chime the hour.
