“He’s a horrid flirt,” Nora added. “Smiling and complimenting them. They think the pitiful little blooms, still covered in dirt are better than hothouse roses.”
“What other romance do they have?” Daphne asked.
Nora nodded. “It’s what Remmy does.”
Daphne’s gaze heated Tessa’s cheeks. “He simply charms everyone he meets.”
“Ah… yes. He’s always been quite sweet.” The shade was not helping the heat, and Tessa fanned herself with her hand. “I do not remember the Ives being such early risers.”
Nora chuckled. “It happens when you have children. You learn to love the mornings.”
Daphne rested her hand on her round belly. “Tessa… have you ever been in love? Not with the mornings. I mean… with a man?”
“I… I…” Her head was a jumble, her heart a stuttering mess. She meant to say,No I have not had that pleasure, but what she said instead was, “I am not sure what love is.”
A bird sang in the limbs above. It must have stolen all the sound in the world for its song. Nora and Daphne certainly possessed none to respond.
Tessa felt suddenly and entirely naked. “I mean… it is only that my parents aren’t particularly demonstrative. They have never told me they love me, but they must. It is only, perhaps, I do not understand what love is, and it is not soft looks and comfort and little kisses on the top of the head and showing pride and…” Oh, she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop. “It must look more like duty and lectures and expectations. Because if it does not then I can only assume that I… that I am the problem. That I may not be… entirely lovable.” She shook her head. That wasn’t quite right. “Remmy used to love me. He said so once, and his was what I thought love should be, but he does not feel that way anymore. He offers no brotherly comfort. So it must be me, but—” She bit her tongue. She wanted to hide. What a silly, humiliating confession to make, but the idea had been hovering on her periphery for days now, waiting, she knew now, for the right moment to jump out and reveal just how pitiful she was.
But Daphne and Nora did not shy away from her, gazes full of sorrow.
They hugged her, wrapped her up tightly in four comforting arms, and she felt… less naked than before, not so small, not so alone.
Thank you, she wanted to whisper, but she couldn’t, not without crying.
“Youdoknow what love is like,” Nora said, patting Tessa’s back. “Remmy has shown you.”
Daphne held Tessa at arm’s length. “We did not think you were aware of his feelings.”
“Of course I am. He’s been a wonderful friend to me.”
“Friend?” Nora queried. “Justa friend?”
There was the heat again, blooming across Tessa’s cheeks and deeper, into her chest. No, he was more than a friend now. Friends did not kiss, did not touch, did not disappear beneath skirts.
“She’s blushing,” Daphne said. “We’ve pushed too far.”
Nora made ahumming noise.
Staring up into the trees, Daphne said, “You are right about love. It is soft looks and comfort and head kisses. But beingin loveis hotter than that.”
“It is frustrating and… wild at times,” Nora added. “At times, decidedlyuncomfortable.”
“But it never makes you feel small.”
“And it is not a duty but a privilege.”
“It is in a way like having your dearest friend by your side.”
“And also wanting them naked.”
Daphne laughed. “And that is why you have so very many children, Nora.” To Tessa she said with the softest smile, “Youarelovable.”
On the other side of the row of trees, she heard Remmy’s humming, loud and dramatic then soft and soulful then terribly off-key. He barged through the tree line and onto their path, blinking at them.
“A plague of women,” he said. “I’d best retreat.”
“No, do not go.” Daphne pulled Nora back toward the house. “Keep Tessa company while she draws.” They disappeared down the shady lane, leaving Tessa suddenly… shy.
