Page 61 of Beyond the Hedge Maze

He waited there on the front porch, remembering his first day back at Chapman. Remembering his nerves, the frantic energy he had brought along with him. It was comical how his largest problem had been questioning whether or not to roll his sleeves and how not to be so obvious with his once dormant feelings for Oliver.

The door opened again. “Ready?” Oliver asked. Jesse looked down at Oliver’s hands and shoved back his own tears. He was so full of love for Oliver that his body was struggling to process it. “I know I’m repurposing a date, but you really didn’t give me proper notice.”

Just like he had when he was fifteen, Jesse took the picnic basket from Oliver’s hands and kissed him on the cheek. “Sounds amazing.”

The walk to the lake was as beautiful as it always had been, even if the grass was longer than it should be. He let himself be distracted by the scenery, wondering how long it had been since the estate had routine lawn maintenance, and how hard it would actually be to operate one of those commercial lawn mowers.

As they approached the water, he saw that the dock was still there, but now Jesse was sure it wouldn’t hold his weight. Sections of wood had rotted completely, leaving gaps in the structure. Others had nearly withered away to nothing. It would collapse on the first step. He tried not to think about it. Tried not to see it as some kind of overall metaphor for the estate. For his relationship with Oliver.

“You’re quiet. What are you thinking about?” Oliver lightly bumped his shoulder as they stopped at the lakefront.

“Lawn mowers. Do you have one?”

Oliver spread out a piece of tarpaulin and the blanket while Jesse set the picnic basket down. “Yes. Why?”

“I think I could handle the mowing, you know? I mean, how hard could it be?” Jesse asked as he sat.

Oliver stood over him for a long minute, a bewildered look on his face. “You want to mow the lawn?”

“Sure, why not? I like being outs—”

Jesse was shoved to his back, Oliver’s mouth covering his in a bruising kiss that Jesse arched into. His hands found a place under the hem of Oliver’s shirt at the small of his back, the dimples there the same size and shape as Jesse’s thumbs. A distraction from their problems.

He geared up the speech he had been trying to prepare in his head as Oliver continued to kiss him. Charlotte’s voice was forcing its way into the forefront of his brain—loud and righteous—and it was making the kiss impossible to enjoy.

There were plenty of avenues available that Oliver could pursue. There was the rise of filmmaking in the Cotswolds—BBC period dramas were making a comeback—and why wouldn’t Chapman House be the perfect backdrop? There was a ballroom sitting completely unused. Currently it was acting like a storage facility, when it could instead play host to charitable events or weddings. The grounds were extensive and beautiful. Visitors would flock just to take a stroll around. Parents could bring their kids for an afternoon playing in the maze.

They had options. They had opportunities. They didn’t need to wait until it was too late.

Just when he was going to pull back, Oliver did first. He started to unpack the picnic basket, taking things out at random and placing them on the blanket. “I didn’t go overboard or anything, just some sandwiches.”

Oliver went on, talking about the lunch he had packed while Jesse nodded along at all the appropriate intervals. He wanted to enjoy this kind gesture Oliver was making.

He wanted to. But he couldn’t.

“You’ve drifted off again.” Oliver said as he lovingly pushed Jesse’s hair out of his face. “I’m sorry I’ve not been around the last couple of days. I hope Charlotte doesn’t think I was avoiding her. The meeting with Mr. Stillwell rattled me, and I know I’ve been sulking.”

“Do you want to tell me more about it?” Jesse pressed his thumb nail into the inside of his palm. His speech could wait five more minutes so Oliver could confide in him.

Oliver picked at the crust of his sandwich. “I don’t know how familiar you are with the English legal system. I don’t know how familiar I am with the English legal system, really. But it sounds like I need a new solicitor.”

Jesse’s eyebrows pinched together in frustration. He tried to keep his tone level. “Because your parents are suing you?”

He watched Oliver take a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly, and Jesse recognized that he was trying to carefully choose his words. He wished he wouldn’t.

“This is the second time. The first was over my grandfather’s will, but this is more complicated. It’s a civil litigation over the estate itself. Like I said before, I really don’t have a great understanding of how it all works, but whatever this lawsuit is specifically, Mr. Stillwell doesn’t think he can represent me further. Apparently, I need someone who specializes in this kind of thing.”

“Have you tried reasoning with them? Surely, this isn’t what they want.”

“I was advised initially not to respond to them when they contacted me so that lines weren’t blurred, but now Mr. Stillwell thinks I should try speaking to them. At least to see if there’s anything I can give them to drop the lawsuit.”

Jesse’s mind whirred, recalling all the times he had seen Oliver look at this phone and flinch. He had spent so much time complaining about his father to Oliver, and hadn’t once pushed to better understand Oliver’s relationship with his own parents. “Is that who has been sending you those messages? Have they been threatening you?”

Oliver’s eyes were cast down. “Threatening feels like an over exaggeration.”

Jesse tilted Oliver’s chin so that he was looking at him. “Give me your phone.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Even as he protested, Oliver fished his phone out of his pocket. Jesse watched as he pulled up a conversation and handed him the phone.