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Laurel took another sip of lemonade, more of a gulp. He really did clean up nicely, she had to admit, in a folksy, farmerish sort of way. She drank more lemonade.
Another dance started, and when Laurel’s gaze wandered back to Archie, he caught her eye and smiled. She blushed and smiled back, embarrassed to have been caught staring, and then Archie beckoned her over.
She couldn’t exactly ignore his invitation, not that she wanted to, but Laurel still felt uncertain as she crossed the ballroom, wending in
and out of clusters of people, until she stopped in front of Archie and his father.
“Hello.”
“Laurel, meet my father, William.” Archie put a gentle hand on his father’s shoulder, his expression turning almost tender. “Dad, this is Laurel. A Sassenach, to be sure, but a friend all the same.”
Laurel laughed a little bit at that. “The only place I’ve ever heard that word is in Outlander.”
“Where do you think I heard it?” he answered with a wink, and Laurel laughed again.
“Pleased to meet you, lass,” William said, “wherever you hail from.”
“Thank you. Pleased to meet you, as well.”
“Shall I get you a drink, Dad?” Archie said. “A pint of bitter?”
“Aye, that would be fine, lad, thanks.”
Archie turned to Laurel. “And you?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, hoisting her half-drunk lemonade.
“I’ll be back in a tick.”
Left alone with William, Laurel cast around for something to say. “Archie has been so kind, taking my nephew under his wing,” she said after a moment, and William looked at her blankly.
“Eh?”
“Archie. My nephew. He’s helped him…” she trailed off, because the confused look on William’s face made her realise this might have been too much to follow. “My nephew has been helping Archie out on the farm,” she explained more slowly. “Just for the last few days…”
William shook his head. “Archie?” he repeated. “Who’s Archie?”
For a second, Laurel simply stared, her mouth dropping open. Archie had told her his father had dementia, of course, but she hadn’t realised it was as bad as that.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I thought you knew him.”
Archie came back a few minutes later, and it only took one quick glance for him to clock what was going on. “Let’s get you into the quiet, Dad,” he said. “There’s a bit of a din in here.” He gave Laurel an apologetic look. “Sorry…”
“No, no…”
She watched him wheel William away, her heart aching for them both. She was still standing there when Archie returned a few minutes later.
“He’s watching telly with Madge, at reception,” he explained. “She’s got a bit of a soft spot for him.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Laurel smiled wistfully. “It must be nice, living in such a small, close-knit community.”
“It has its pluses, as well as its minuses.”
“Which are?”
“You can’t sneeze in your own kitchen without Fiona at the post office asking you about your cold.” Archie smiled and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s better than the alternative, which is no one knowing you at all.”
“True…”
