After circumnavigating the tree twice, I turned the camera back to me. ‘I’ll send you tons of photos. And would you like some of the petals?’
He seemed surprised. ‘Yes! I’d love them.’
‘Send me your address, I’ll post them!’
‘Okay, thanks. So how was your week?’
An image of Helen flashed in my head and a second too late I answered, ‘Fine.’
He went still. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘Rachel? Is something wrong?’
Should I tell him? ‘My sister Helen, she’s pregnant.’
‘Hey. God almighty.’ He blinked. ‘That’s … is the world ready? And you feel …？ Babe, it’s okay to be jealous.’
‘It’s not that. I’m worried that it’ll all go wrong for her.’ Since Helen had announced her pregnancy, anxiety had set up camp in my chest.
‘Is there any reason to think it might?’
‘None. The chances are tiny. Just that I know it happens. I mean, I know it, in my body, if that makes sense?’
He sighed. ‘Yeah. Hopefully it’ll be grand.’
‘Luke … What’s this about feeling jealous? Do you feel that way?’
‘Me? Nah!’
We both laughed.
‘Just.’ He shook his head. ‘Sometimes. There’s Joey, spawning kids left, right and centre …’
‘How many has he now?’
‘Four. I know, it’s hardly a multitude. But he barely even sees his eldest … There are times I want to …’
‘Speak sternly to him?’
‘Yeah.’ He smiled. ‘Very sternly. But it’s okay. It hurts but it’s okay. That’s about as good as it’ll get.’
‘How are you feeling about your mum?’
‘Doing grief counselling.’
‘You are?’ I didn’t know why I was so surprised, after all, he’d told me he’d seen a therapist when he’d first moved to Denver.
‘Oh yeah! This is me now, Rachel! Owning my stuff.’
I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
‘What else is going on for you?’ he asked.
‘Visiting Brigit the weekend after next.’
‘Oh, amazing! How is the Brigit of Madison County? Still in that incredible place?’
‘Even more incredible now.’
‘Rachel, would this be weird? Could you FaceTime me from there?’
‘Well, sure. I can show you some of the changes. They’ve converted the old cow house into a studio, for yoga workshops or painting schools. Residential ones, like. Brigit’s new career, hopefully. There’s a painting school later in the summer. I’m working at it.’
‘Doing what?’ Luke seemed confused. ‘Counselling?’
‘Excuse me! I have other skills too, you know.’
‘Oh, I know.’
‘I’ll be helping Bridge. Cooking for the guests.’
‘What?’ he spluttered. ‘You?’
‘Hahahaha! Yeah! Things really have changed. I can cook now.’
Over-dramatically, he blinked. ‘I can’t even.’
Back in the day, neither Luke nor I could cook. Because we managed the occasional stir-fry, we thought we could, but when it mattered we discovered we couldn’t.
Suddenly I said, ‘Do you remember the night my managers from Hope House were coming to dinner –’
‘– do I remember? Oh my God!’
I’d been angling for a permanent position and fear had made me embark on a menu which was far too ambitious. Luke had been my assistant and we were both fathoms out of our depth.
‘You were yelling instructions from the book,’ Luke said. ‘What was it you kept saying? “Thinly sliced! Luke, these shallots aren’t thin enough!”’
‘And you said, “They’re so thin, they’re fucking invisible.”’
‘Then I tore off my apron –’
‘– which I’d made you wear –’
‘– threw it on the floor and announced, “I QUIT!”’
We both got a wild fit of laughing at the memory. I was helpless, so was he and the release was joyous. Every uncomfortable emotion held in my body, from the very pit of my stomach, up through the clenched tension of my chest, just spun away. It was gorgeous.
Wiping my face, I picked up my screen. My eyes met Luke’s and I said, ‘I QUIT!’ And it began all over again.
When we had regained control, Luke said, ‘I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that. So, I should go to bed, you need to get on with your day. And we’ll talk on her anniversary?’