The
smell that filled the air when I opened the cottage door and walked in, made my
stomach ache and my mouth water. Hurrying over to the bedroom, I threw my
things on the unmade bed before walking over to Lucas, as he knelt in front of
the growing flames that now danced within the chipped and faded stone hearth. Curling
up on the sofa and tucking my feet under me, I reached for Daniel’s pillow,
still lying on the end of the sofa where I left it earlier. Pulling it into my
lap, I heard a soft thud as something hit the floor. Looking down to the bottom
of the couch I bent over and picked up a weathered paperback book from the
ground.
The
sound of bacon sizzling had me looking back over to Lucas. Sitting with his
back to me I watched as he held out a cast iron skillet, which looked as old
and worn as this house, and held it high over the fire’s flames.
“What
are you doing?” I asked, curiously watching Lucas, as he poked the frying bacon
strips with a plastic fork.
“I
don’t know about you, but I like my bacon crispy.” He threw over his shoulder, along with a sly little smile before turning back to his skillet.
Looking
back down to the small battered novel in my hands, I turned it over. I was
barely able to make out the words, Hamlet, written in bold font on the
scratched and tattered cover. Flipping through the stained and creased pages, I
stopped several times to look at the small, scribbled notes that filled the
margins in almost every other page.
“Hey,
is this yours?” I inquired, looking up to see him pull a large brown bag out
from the right side corner, beside the fireplace.
“This….”
I said, waving the book back and forth in the air, trying to get his attention.
Finally
looking up to see what I was talking about, “Oh! That’s Dani’s. His m-” he
started to say before stopping himself.
“His
what?” I eagerly asked, silently begging him to continue so I could find out
more about Daniel.
“So how do you like your eggs?” he asked,
avoiding my question. “Scrambled or-”
Tuning
Lucas out as he continued talking, I thought about the last time I saw my gramps.
How I watched him make eggs that morning for breakfast and how we talked about
my trip. Thinking back, it felt like a lifetime ago.
“I’m
good. No eggs for me.” I told Lucas with a tight smile.
“Well
the bacons done, so have at it!” he said to me as he took the strips out from
the hot pan, and laid them on the paper plate he pulled out from the magic
brown bag.
Still
clutching the book in my hand, I hunkered down next to Lucas on the floor and
took a bite from the still blistering hot slice of bacon. Unconsciously closing
my eyes, a soft little moan escaped my lips when the hot meat touched my
tongue.
“You…ah…
you got a little bit of drool right there.” Lucas said, startling me out of my
bacon trance.
Reaching
up I wiped the side of my mouth with the back of hand, glaring at Lucas when
his amused smile morphed into a deep husky laugh.
“Don’t
you have eggs to make.” I snapped. Still glowering at him as he turned and
cracked a few eggs, into the same mug Daniel had offered me soup in last night.
Using a plastic fork, he whisked to eggs into a frenzy before throwing them
into the heated skillet.
Throwing
the cooked eggs into another paper plate, he rested the scorching hot pan on
the other side of the stone hearth. Settling to face me, the plates of food
between us, Lucas dug into his eggs and I nibbled on my bacon as we both ate in
silence. I’d just polished off my 6th strip, and was staring at
Daniel’s book in my lap but not really seeing it, when Lucas’ raspy voice cut
into my thoughts, shattering the unintentional silence.
“So how’re
you doing? You know, with…..everything?” Lucas asked.
Looking
up from my lap to Lucas, I saw the concern and wariness that flickered across
his grey eyes as he patiently waited for me reply.