In response to Robin’s snippy insistence, Lucas smiled, so Robin moved on to his task, waiting until Lucas couldn’t see him before putting a hand to his hot cheek.
“What do you usually eat?” Lucas asked, then went on carefully, “Back when you took the time to.”
Robin chose not to be offended by this since it was true, and crossed to the desk to make a new grocery list, starting with coffee. He’d just used the last of it.
“Oatmeal, with maple syrup or jam in the winter, berries in the spring and summer. Muffins or scones, also with jam, or cream. Tartine with preserves or eggs or avocado, although John liked his toast with peanut butter and honey. Sausage or bacon on days with a lot of work. Pancakes or cinnamon puffs on special days.” He waved a hand. “Breakfast foods. Whatever is fine.”
“My mother brought you some pepper jelly from Hortensia’s kitchen, but that doesn’t seem suitable. You don’t have any honey,” Lucas observed. Since Lucas had put away the groceries, he presumably knew where everything was as well as a general inventory.
Robin put the empty coffee bag in the trash then went back to the desk while the coffee machine burbled. “Honey,” he said aloud as he added it to the list. “Jam.” He tapped the pen against the notepad. “Raspberry? Do you like something else?”
“Apple butter,” Lucas’ answer surprised him. Lucas was busy pulling eggs and butter from the refrigerator. “But in February or March, when fall seems very distant.”
Robin smiled to himself and wrote downapple butteranyway. Then more actual butter, just in case.
Lucas sliced some of the leftover bread from dinner thin enough for the toaster, then went to the pantry for oats.
Several minutes in to Lucas setting up the oats and worrying over the lack of anything sweet except for white sugar, Robin realized he was staring, the smile lingering on his face. He got up and went to the side door, which Lucas had left open despite the chill. He should see any damage for himself.
Steps led down to the ground, near the doors to the cellar that wasn’t used anymore since the refrigerator kept things cold enough and there were not that many mouths to feed. Several yards away was a small, fenced pen for sheep they no longer had, with other, larger pens in the distance. Toward the back of the house were sheds and a barn, also not really used now, and a few buildings that held water pumps and tubs for the washing or dying of wool.
On the other side of the house, not visible from here, there had once been a kitchen garden for herbs and vegetables, witha plum tree at each corner. The front drive was spotted with oaks, and beyond all the outbuildings were acres of grass and wildflowers and scrubs—for the sheep that weren’t there.
But none of that was especially on Robin’s mind because he quickly saw what had held Lucas’ attention; two ravens sitting on fence posts and croaking lowly to each other as they surveyed the yard.
The wind picked up, stirring their feathers. Robin buttoned his outer flannel but stayed in the doorway in the fresh air.
“I haven’t really been outside in a while,” he revealed, then, embarrassed, changed the subject. “What do you feed them?”
“Meat. They prefer it, though they will also eat nuts and cooked eggs.” Lucas opened the refrigerator. “They’ll peck at popcorn sometimes. But at the moment I suspect they are hunting mice for you.”
Robin startled, looking down automatically although any mice were probably in the sheds and other buildings. He looked back at the ravens, who were now staring at him. He got the sense they were waiting for permission.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, carry on. Thank you. But no mice guts in the house!”
Flint cocked her head, attitude insulted.
“Sorry,” Robin added quickly. “Obviously, you would never do such a thing.”
Flint clicked several times then took off, heading somewhere out of sight. Her mate followed her.
Robin breathed in the scent of damp wood, and rain, and the threat of frost, then sighed and closed the door.
He went back to the counter for coffee, filling two cups and waiting for Lucas to tell him how he took his before going to the fridge. He got the salt shaker—and replenished it since it was also empty, although the salt did not behave for him the way it would have for Lucas, and then the white sugar for the oats. Regular sugar would do for today.
He put everything on the center island and got their plates and forks ready, moving easily around Lucas at the stove. He buttered the toast, peered at the oatmeal from Lucas’ side; Lucas had prepared the oats thick, which Robin approved of. He added honey to the grocery list and then returned to the island just as Lucas plated their food.
He could’ve sat but didn’t suggest it, ravenous the moment the food was in his hands.
Lucas started more toast when it became clear they were hungry enough to finish the loaf. Robin hummed happily as he cleaned his plate. He hadn’t had a breakfast so good in months, perhaps in years.
Despite that, he didn’t protest too much when Lucas took the dishes and put them in the sink to wash them. Robin went to sit down again without being told. Tomorrow, he would do more. Today, he would sit.
“I’ll clear out the dining room if you tell me where things go,” Lucas said as he seemed to debate leaving the oatmeal pot to soak or scrubbing it now. “Also… I’m not sure if your family celebrated Yule for a month, or for the whole season, or just the night….” Some old traditions had Yule last until into the new year. Robin was fairly sure a lot of January feast days, adapted to saints forthatreligion, were related to what had originally been Midwinter celebrations. “You don’t attend the revels,” Lucas went on when Robin didn’t answer right away. “Neitherdo we, much. Occasionally. Connor is… was… fond of them. But if you have traditions, things you need me to dig out of storage, or particular meals in mind to shop for, let me know.” Lucas’ nail polish was definitely chipping. Robin didn’t have anything in the house to fix it; anything left in any of the bedrooms had probably dried up years ago. He made a note on the shopping list. Oblivious, Lucas kept going. “If not, I’m going to take stock of the repairs needed, minor or major, and any cleaning that needs to be done, and maybe make a schedule.”
Robin dropped the notepad to sigh noisily. “You don’t have to do repairs.”
“I don’t mind.” Lucas didn’t even turn around. There was no arguing with that.
