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“What did you say?”
“Uh?” He started a little, as if she’d just pulled him back from the edges of a dream. “Nothing. Go to sleep.” Rick closed his eyes again, clearly intent on doing the same himself now.
Maybe he’d said the same three words to her, that Fleur had already said to Rick in her dreams. But love wasn’t what they’d signed up for. It was a complication that was best left unspoken.
* * *
Rick woke to the scent of soap, and a kiss that could only be Fleur’s. He opened one eye, glancing at the clock, afraid he’d slept for too long and that he’d have to go and pick Ellie up from the daycare center soon. But it was still only midday, and he had time to spend with Fleur.
“Ten minutes to get showered. I’m making breakfast.”
She was out of the room before he had a chance to even sit up, leaving a cup of fresh brewed coffee on the bedside table.
He could smell bacon and...something else. The something else turned out to be a stack of pancakes with maple syrup.
“I made you a proper American breakfast, with maple syrup from the island. I’m glad to see you had a bottle in the cupboard.”
“Are you kidding? The grocery shop refused to deliver to me unless I included it on my list.”
Fleur grinned. “Quite right too. Now it’s up to me to make sure you don’t leave it unopened at the back of the cupboard.” She put a plate down on the kitchen table in front of him, stacked with pancakes and bacon. “I guess you know the story of how Maple Island got its name.”
“No. Tell me...” He started to eat, suddenly realizing that he was hungry.
“The early settlers in the area had found out how to get syrup from maple trees, which was really important to them because they needed to be able to keep stores of food over the winter to stop them from starving. At that time, the island was covered with maples, and you could see the autumn colors from the mainland. Some of the more adventurous souls made their way across the bay to tap the trees that grew here, and they found that the island had all they needed, including excellent soil for crops and good fishing. So they stayed, and founded our community.”
Our community. Rick smiled. “And when did your family come here?”
“My dad’s family were amongst the first—Jacob Miller is listed in the old documents at the library, he and his family built one of the first houses in the town. My mum’s family came a lot later, her grandparents only
moved out to the island when they got married.”
“So you must feel that you have roots that go pretty deep into the ground here.”
Fleur poured the coffee and sat down, starting to eat. “How long has your family been in London? But you’re here. Starting out somewhere doesn’t mean you have to end up there.”
Touché. A bottle of maple syrup and a few stories were just that. Fleur had a life in Boston and the island couldn’t offer her what the mainland could. She could tell stories and talk about our community, but it didn’t really change a thing. They were both on a journey, learning how to make sense of what had happened in their lives. It was too bad that those journeys would end up in different places.
“What are the jam jars for? With counters in them?” Fleur was tucking into her food now, and pointed with her fork to the two jars standing on a shelf.
“Those? They’re a little tradition that Ellie and I have. They’re special wishes. We each get one counter a week, and we’re allowed to spend them on a special wish. Something that we can grant each other. It’s my way of showing her that she can have anything, but not everything.”
“And which one’s yours?”
“The full one. I don’t spend many of mine. Ellie spends hers every week.”
Fleur chuckled. “Good girl. Not much point in keeping all your wishes in a jar.”
“No, I suppose not.” Rick picked up the last piece of crispy bacon from his plate, biting the end of it.
“So, you’ve made me sleep. And now you’ve made me eat...” A thought hung in the corner of his mind. Something he couldn’t quite place.
“And you’re wondering what I’m going to make you do next?”
“No, I was thinking it was about time that I suggested we do something.”
She slid down off her stool, winding her arms around his waist, and he pulled her close. This felt so good. Rick’s suggestion seemed like a foregone conclusion but he made it anyway, because he wanted the thrill of whispering the words into her ear and then making them a reality.
“Next thing on the list is that we make love.”
