Luca swiped his phone open to his notes app. His hand was shaking. Neither of them had touched their food.
“I put a portion of the money into savings for myself, to make sure I can pay my own bills for the foreseeable future, my car insurance, things like that. We put a decent chunk into paying off your credit cards, your taxes, and any otheroverdue bills, so that’s off your conscience. Some we put into general savings for the farm, for repairs and vet bills and backup for Jansel’s salary when times are lean.
“And then we put the last chunk into development for the immediate future. First thing is fixing those greenhouses for real, immediately, so you can use them this winter. Second is putting more investment into the orchard and the berry patch, because if your products are going to take off online like I think they will, we’ll need a lot more berries and fruit for your syrups and jams. Honey I think we’re good on for now, but if you wanted to invest in more bee boxes we could do that, too. And then third is putting more work into the old barn so we can rent it for more events. I know it’s not sexy, but I think the first thing we need to do before anything else is invest in public restrooms. Obviously actual plumbing would be the ideal, but if we need to be frugal, we could at least get a pit toilet installed at the top of the hill. I think that would be a start. But I think real plumbing and a small kitchen in the tack room should be our goal.”
Emerson kept staring at him.
Luca’s voice had been steady, serious during this entire speech. But as the silence stretched, color seeped into his cheeks. He dropped his gaze, picking up a fry without eating it.
“But those were all just…ideas; obviously you’ve been doing this a lot longer than me. It’s your farm and you probably have a bunch of other, better ideas that you want to?—”
“Luca.” Emerson had to put a hand over his mouth to hold in the sound that desperately wanted to escape. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me here. I can’t—this is too much.”
“I’m sorry.” Luca swallowed. “I thought it’d be—I don’t know, more professional, sound more like a real business plan if I presented it over a nice dinner. I also really did just want totake you on a date. But I’m sorry if I did this badly. Those were just some things I was thinking about, but I need you to know that I’m giving you the money either way, whatever you want to do with it. You can’t stop me. I love you, and it’s yours.”
With a huff and an almost violently scarlet face, Luca sat back in the booth.
There were too many things happening inside Emerson’s head, inside Emerson’s heart, but he knew he had to say something to wipe that look off Luca’s face.
“Can it be our money, at least?” he croaked out. “Not just mine?”
“Yes.” The word was both emphatic and hardly there at all, said on a gust of heavy breath. “That’s what I want, Emerson. I want it to be ours.”
“And this is real?” Emerson asked after another pause, still struggling to get ahold of his emotions. “The sale really already went through?”
“I promise you,” Luca said. “It’s waiting in my bank account right now.”
“Okay.” Once Emerson started nodding, he found he couldn’t stop. “Okay. So I am going to need to step outside right now, and have a little cry on the beach. I promise I’ll come back, and I promise I’m not mad at you; I just need a minute. Please wait here and watch our food. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Emerson was halfway across the restaurant before he turned back.
“Oh my god, Luca.” He clutched the corner of the table with one hand, the back of Luca’s side of the booth with the other. “I love you so much, too. I’ve been in love with you since we went to the beach with Daisy for the first time. No, before that, probably. When you fell asleep in Daisy’s bed with Moomoo. That really fucking killed me. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back immediately; I just?—”
“I threw a lot at you.” Emerson’s vision was tunneling a little, but he was pretty sure Luca was smiling up at him. “I’m sorry. It’s okay.”
“Okay. I still have to go freak out about the money, though.”
“Of course.” Luca turned his head, kissed Emerson’s wrist. Which Emerson truly couldn’t even handle at this moment. “I love you.”
“Fuck. I love you, too.”
And then Emerson marched out the back door of the restaurant before he passed out. He took a few steps across the sand, barely comprehending anything around him. He took a few more steps to be sure he was far enough away from the parking lot, from the restaurant.
And then he sank to his haunches, covered his face, and sobbed in relief.
Luca loved him, and Luca was right. It was a lot of money, but it might not be enough. Short King Farms might still go under one day.
But it was more than Emerson had had in a long time. It was enough to cover his debts, enough to properly plan for a new growing year. And when you walked around with that kind of debt on your shoulders every day, it sank into your bones. Always a part of you, even when you were at your otherwise happiest, even when your kid turned your heart into pieces every day, even when you were in love. You could almost forget it, sometimes, when there were so many other good things happening.
Only when someone swooped in to take that debt away, only when you knew you were going to be able to go home and pay your bills—only then did you realize how deeply ithad calcified. Only then did you realize how light you could feel, and how long it had been since you’d felt it.
After he’d let the relief wash over him until he could breathe again?—
Only then did he wonder if he should feel guilty about Luca’s cabin. He felt genuine sorrow that Luca had sold it without telling him, because he’d never be able to go there again, sit longer in the spot that had meant so much to Luca. That Emerson had felt so much of Luca in, the second he’d walked in.
But now that the shock was wearing off, he found he didn’t want to go back inside and berate Luca for taking such a huge gamble, such a huge sacrifice on the farm’s behalf. Luca was a grown man. It was Luca’s choice to make. Emerson trusted him. That he wouldn’t have gone through with it if he hadn’t truly wanted to.
