I grin, dabbing the water off my face with the towel he hands me.
Naturally, our conversation flows back and forth as Lachlan finishes putting together our dinner and places the four sandwiches on two serving trays.
“Do ye think ye could grab the sides?”
I give a mock salute. “Aye, captain,” I tease.
His eyes flare. “It’s chef.”
I grab the fruit and crisps that he brought for our sides and follow him out. I’m still simmering with happiness as we make our way back to the terrace.
Gran and Torin turned on an outdoor speaker, and the soft strings of classical music faintly play underneath their conversation. They have known each other for most of their lives, perhaps even longer, and appear now to be just two old friends walking through years of memories.
That thought suddenly has me realizing that Torin is exactly the person I should be asking about my mom’s mysteriously appearing necklace.
We set down the food, and Lachlan proudly proclaims, “Dinner is served!”
Gran chuckles, studying the sandwich in front of her. “And what do we have here?”
Lachlan grins. “While I was traveling, I came across this little hole-in-the-wall place that served these delicious sandwiches, so I convinced the owner to give me the recipe. And here it is: fresh bread, spread with melted burrata cheese, topped with arugula, prosciutto, basil, a squeeze of lemon, and a generous amount of balsamic glaze.” He glances around the table as we all make skeptical faces at the food on our plates. “I promise it’s good.”
I close my eyes and give silent thanks to the Father and Mother for our many blessings before taking the first bite. Gran and Torin stare quizzically at me. I politely smile behind my hand as I swallow.
“Okay, he’s not lying; that’s really good.” I take a sip of wine to wash it down before I dive back in to devour the rest of the sandwich.
Everyone follows my lead, and what follows is a chorus of murmuring agreement. It’s not exactly a five-star meal, but it is surprisingly delicious.
My necklace rests just underneath the neckline of my dress, and the bronze begins to warm against my skin. The warmth startles me enough that I interrupt the current conversation.
“Torin, you were here at the Hall when my parents left to go to the States, right?” I try to make the question sound conversational. However, my sudden burst of enthusiasm sparks curious looks from Gran and Lachlan.
“Aye, why?” He studies my face closely.
“I found a picture of my mom wearing this necklace.” I pull the medallion up from where it currently rests under my dress. “But Lachlan found it at an antique shop.” I glance sidelong at Lachlan. His face is strangely neutral. “I was wondering if you knew anything about it?”
The question is met with silence that stretches on a beat too long.
When I look away from Lachlan and back to Torin, he whips his face back to mine. His angry expression is quickly replaced with a neutral one. Was he just glaring at Lachlan? I search Lachlan’s face for any hint of discord, but he ignores me, swirling the wine in his glass.
“Am I missing something?” I ask, glancing around the table.
Torin ignores my last question and answers the first. “Nae, lass, I dinna ha’ any answers for ye, unfortunately.”
Gran’s head swivels back and forth as she follows the conversation. Her shoulders slump at Torin’s reply.
“Oh, okay.” My voice is full of defeat.
“But if it’s answers you’re after, your mum left a bunch of things behind, and I put it all in the attic. I’d start there,” he adds, his face softening.
Hope sparks in my chest, a new path to answers. “Thank you.”
Lachlan stretches an arm out behind my chair and leans towards me. His movement distracts me from the thoughts of my necklace.
“Do ye ha’ anything planned while you’re here?” he asks in between sips of his wine.
“Not really, just caring for Gran and enjoying her good days.”
Gran looks over at me and smiles sadly. “You need some excitement, Lena, a purpose other than watching me die.” Her stark honesty has my stomach bottoming out.
