“James opened that first envelope. It’s a letter from Ingrid. He read it to me, too. She’ll be here for Christmas, with her little one, and she sends her love, as always.”
Cassian hummed and nodded.
“Did she receive my check?” he asked. “And the blanket that Ethel knitted?”
“Yes, she did,” Maggie confirmed. “I think James and I are about finished with our present for her as well. Quilting isn’t as easy as it looks.”
“No, I imagine it’s not,” Cassian said with a warm chuckle.
He loved seeing James and Maggie working together on the big, patchwork blanket, both because the love between the two friends was so palpable whenever they huddled together to do so and because James looked so endlessly endearing whenever he was engaged with something creative. Cassian’s heart fluttered as an image of James concentrating—his brow furrowed, his tongue poking out from his mouth once in a while—popped into his mind. He’d have to tell James to make him a blanket as well sometime soon, if only so that he could watch him work on it.
Flipping through the envelopes, Cassian shifted his stance. He hoped that theparticularenvelope he was looking for had arrived. Sure enough, at the bottom of the pile, there it was. All the way from London.
“Is that what I think it is?” Ethel asked from her chair.
“Indeed, it is,” he said with a happy hum, ripping it open.
Listening to James and John return to the car, he bit down on his bottom lip and strummed his fingers on the envelope, barely able to contain his percolating excitement as he wondered whether or not he could stand to wait for nightfall before presenting James with the gift. Probably not.
“I’m heading up to my bedroom to wait for James,” he said, starting into the hall with the envelope. “I’ll be back for some coffee later.”
Cassian bounded up the stairs. His and James’s bedroom was the last one at the end of the hall. Inside, most of his bags were already there, having been brought in by James and John right before this. Just like when Cassian had boarded theTitanicin April, though, he still kept his most important possession (well, second most important) on his person most of the time, rather than in a piece of luggage. After setting the envelope atop his long dresser, Cassian reached into his breast pocket for the forever-stopped watch. He never left for New York City without it. Having it with him made feel a little more anchored to James whenever they were apart, as morbid as that probably was. After all,Titanicwas where the two of them had met. Not all of Cassian’s memories of the ship were bad. Not most, even.
But that was another reason why he liked having the watch with him. It helped him remember Jacob and the others who had been lost in the sinking, and it helped remind him to think of other people more often as well.
Faintly, Cassian heard James come back into the house. He unclipped the watch’s chain from his clothes. James was a sensitive soul. He needn’t be reminded of either of those things. So, as Cassian always did when he arrived at the cottage, he put the watch in with his socks for safekeeping. Until the next time when he’d have to be without his caring steward. Which, thankfully, would not be for a while this time around.
Just as Cassian shut the drawer, James came into the room.
“Didn’t fancy a cup of coffee for yourself?” James asked, setting the last piece of luggage on the floor next to the bed.
“Mmm, not right now, no,” Cassian said.
He took the envelope off the table and walked over to James.
“What’s that?” James asked.
“It’s a present.”
“Awfully small to be a present,” James said playfully, his lips curling into a sweet smirk. “Unless my month’s wages are the present, which seems pretty cruel, especially since I’ll probably spend the bulk of it on you anyway.”
Cassian chuckled. “No, it’s not your salary.” He handed the envelope to James. “In fact, I think thatthisparticular present, you might consider priceless.”
Before peeking inside the envelope, James narrowed his eyes at Cassian suspiciously. Cassian flicked the envelope to encourage him to open it. Finally, James looked inside, humming loudly and pursing his lips to fight a smile while he did.
But then, in an instant, James’s face fell and the humming stopped. He looked up at Cassian. And then back inside the envelope. And then back up at Cassian again.
“Go on, James,” Cassian encouraged him.
James’s eyes were welling up with tears, and Cassian knew that his own would soon well up, too. Gingerly, James removed the item from the sturdy cardstock envelope.
George’s photograph.
For a little while, James stared at it in obvious wonderment, his mouth agape.
“Impossible,” he said in a whisper. “It’s... Cassian, this is impossible.”
“Itisthe right one then, yes?”
