Will’s warm hand landed on my shoulder as he read my face. “I meant it when I said I’d help you with a business plan. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Or work with anyone you don’t want to.”
“Yes. Listen to William. Because if anyone knows about turning down lucrative business in favor of following the whims of one’s heart, it’s him.” Andrew’s tone was dry, but his eyes danced.
I’d worried that Will’s parents might be too set in their ways to change. Obviously, the opposite was true. They were clearly trying to meet him on his level.
I surprised myself by realizing I wanted to get to know them better.
Everything between Will and me was moving fast, and while it felt good, I couldn’t risk another misunderstanding. It was comically past time to tell him about my decision to move to Coleman Creek. I needed to get him alone.
“Hey, Bren, thanks so much for letting me know about the video, but Will and I actually had plans to go out tonight.”
“Oh, sorry! I just got excited and wanted to tell you. I’m on my meal break anyway and need to get back to the bar.”
“No worries.” She headed toward the door.
Iris picked up her bag from the counter. “I’ve never been happier to have forgotten my purse.” She slipped it over her shoulder and turned to me. “I’m so glad my son had you to helphim this week.” Eyes teary, she added, “I appreciate knowing someone else is in his corner. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until today.” She gave my arm a gentle squeeze.
“We’ll get out of your hair so you can enjoy your night,” Andrew said, briefly clasping Will on the back before the couple retreated into the hallway. “But we’d love to have you two for dinner soon.”
“If Maureen’s okay with it, I’d like that,” Will responded.
“Definitely,” I agreed.
After they left, Will shut the door and rested his forehead against it. “This has been a surreal day. In a good way.”
I circled my arms around his waist, resting my chin between his shoulder blades. “It has.”
“I’m feeling like I want to push my luck.”
“Huh?”
Will shifted to face me before leading us both over to sit on the couch. “I have a present for you. I was saving it for when you went back to Coleman Creek for Christmas, but that was before I realized this would be the day we made love for the first time, the day I told you I loved you, the day I made strides with my parents, the day they met you, the day your vlog took off.”
My mouth turned down. “But I don’t have anything for you. I haven’t had a chance yet.”
He hmphed. “Maureen, nothing you could give me could top today and everything you’ve already given me.”
Will reached into the small drawer built into the side table. He pulled out a rectangle wrapped in shiny green paper, about eight by ten inches, and handed it to me.
“I drew a picture of us,” he said, pulling me onto his lap.
I ran my finger underneath the tape. As I unfolded the edges, I expected to find a portrait-style drawing.
Instead, as the frame revealed itself, I found a picture of our hands. Only our hands. His scarred palm held softly inmine. The background was a kaleidoscope of grays, but the hands themselves appeared bathed in light. Even in the two-dimensional rendering, the features were so detailed, I could envision my thumb moving along his skin, as it had done so many times in real life. The drawing perfectly captured the roughness of his knuckles, the small hairs there, along with my fingers and nude manicure.
“This is us?” I asked.
“This captures how I feel when I’m with you.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“No one has ever made me feel as okay as you do. Five years ago, and especially now.”
I kept my eyes on the glass in my hands. “I love it.”
He sat up straighter and brushed my hair behind my neck, causing a shiver. “In high school, I drew a lot of my favorite characters from movies and books. It helped me escape the bullying, like a fantasy world I could retreat to. After my accident, I started drawing places from my childhood that meant something. I think that was my way of finding a bit of the old me in all the numbness. Last week, I felt inspired in a way I haven’t in a long time. I drew everything around me—Bambi, Oscar, James grading papers, Marley laughing, the Christmas trees. You. Art has always been a sort of therapy for me, not just a creative outlet.”
“I feel that way about Francesca.”
