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Rising heavily to his feet, Blair combed through a crate, looking for a familiar oblong bottle that would, at least temporarily, dull his worries. His line of sight caught on a small saucepan poking out of one of the boxes. Abandoning his search, Blair filled the pot with water and placed it on his electric hot plate.
Then he scoured a second box for a mug and a packet of tea.
44
Iris was seated on the couch lost in thought after work when she heard Gabriel’s car rumble down the rocky driveway. Her hand hovered over her current craft project, another punch needle embroidery kit that she’d ordered online when unable to sleep a few nights earlier.
The design she was supposed to be embroidering was of a red bird perched in a patch of winter berries. It reminded her of the afternoon she and Blair had scoured the woods for twigs and berries to use for Gabriel’s broom. The problem was that every time she looked at the black and white design pulled taut over the cotton cloth, she was overwhelmed with sadness.
The door swung open, and Iris glanced up to find Gabriel, his face partially obscured by a large cardboard box. He lowered it to the ground with a huff.
A familiar oversized brown coat was draped over the top.
Abandoning her project, Iris dashed to the door. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she watched Blair slide a second box from the back of Gabriel’s car.
Iris raced down the front steps in her slippers, her feet sinking into the mud as she dashed across the lawn. She stopped in front of him and their eyes met. Blair dropped the box, and Iris closed the distance between them, falling into his arms and holding him more tightly than she’d ever held anyone in her life.
She felt Blair’s tension break as he returned her embrace. At last, she pulled away, not bothering to wipe away her tears as she brushed back a section of his hair that the breeze had tossed in front of his face. “You’re home,” she whispered, and Blair’s answering smile told her everything she needed to know. She saw black tears gather in his pale irises. “Don’t cry,” she said, sweeping her thumbs under his eyes.
Together, they each took an end of a large box and muscled it into the house. As Blair went to grab the rest of his things, Iris turned to Gabriel.
“Did you…?” she asked, and Gabriel shrugged, hanging his umbrella on the coat rack.
“I have no idea what you could mean,” he said, but he flashed her a dazzling smile as he followed Blair back to the car.
That night at dinner, Iris lowered her fork, watching Blair with a hint of worry.
“What's wrong?” he asked, pausing with his food halfway to his mouth.
Iris fixed him with a serious stare. “I just have to make sure. You’re here because you want to be, right? Not because of a prophecy, but because you, Blair, want this to be your home.” She bit her nail, waiting anxiously for his answer.
“Yes, Iris,” he said, intertwining their hands beneath the table. “This is my home.”
Everything was ready. A fresh vase of spring daffodils bloomed at the center of the kitchen table. The couch pillows were fluffed. Several fragrant dishes—most of them cooked by Gabriel—rested buffet-style on the counter, and vanilla scented candles dotted the living room bookshelf.
Iris took one last glance in the mirror, smiling at herself in her new dinner dress, before she entered the living room to find Blair pacing around near the coffee table.
“Hey.” Iris placed a hand on his elbow, turning him to face her. She tweaked his tie. “You look very dapper.”
Blair smiled, but there was a hint of anxiety in his distant gaze. He ran a hand through his trimmed hair. “They’re not going to come.”
“Of course they are. Who would dare turn down an invitation from such a distinguished gentleman?”
“Iris—”
“I’m being serious!”
Footsteps sounded from the staircase, and a moment later Gabriel came to a halt in front of them, looking as pulled together as ever in a suit of gray velvet. He adjusted his bowtie, glancing down to check if it was straight. “I don’t see why we have to dress up as if we’re headed to the opera,” he said sourly.
“We want to make a good impression. Plus, don’t you want to show Clement up for once?”
“Clement isn’t coming. He had business to attend to.”
Iris hid her smile with grace. “Well, that’s too bad. That leaves us with only eight guests then, if Li shows up. Oh, and I invited Cody.”
“The barkeep?”
Iris rolled her eyes as a knock sounded at the door. “Who calls them barkeeps anymore? Honestly, Gabriel.”