Mentioning my mum instantly puts her face in my mind, and I think how much she would have liked Ted—his easy demeanor, his complete lack of pretension, how thoughtful he is. It seems wrong that she went to her grave thinking Aaron is who I ended up with; Aaron, who put the handbrake on at junctions. Then again, perhaps she knew me better than I knew myself and sensed that he would not be a long chapter.
“I think when we were teenagers, it was more about sleeping out in the dunes than bringing people home,” Ted says, shifting in his chair. “So, what would you like to do today? I’ll take you anywhere.”
“I’m going to help you clean the house, get it finished.”
“That doesn’t sound like a great way to spend the day—there’s so much of the island I haven’t shown you yet.”
He reaches out to cover my hand with his, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this contented in my entire life. How can everything change, in a weekend? Then we hear a voice from across the wall.
“Morning!” Sandy says, standing right there, hand on hip, a clownish smile of satisfaction that her matchmaking ambitions have come to fruition.
“Do you want to join us?” Ted asks, leaning back in his chair. I catch a glimpse of his chest beneath his linen shirt, and a flash of what we were doing earlier this morning sends a tingle of heat across my skin.
“I wouldn’t think to intrude,” she says, making wide, embarrassing eyes at us both.
“Sandy, I assume the incredible cabinet Laura gave me is Ilídio’s work?” Ted asks.
“He told me Laura had a big hand in the design,” she says.
“It’s now my favorite object in the entire house,” Ted says, turning back to look at me with a twinkle in his eyes.
“It’s pretty much the only object in the house,” I say, following his eyes with mine. I love that I can just stare at him now. I don’t have to look away; I can just shamelessly stare at his ludicrously attractive face.
* * *
*
After breakfast, we set to work clearing the house, and I help Ted pull out a few of the small objects he wants to keep, things that will fit in the little drawers and windows of the memory cabinet.
“I thought this compartment could be for one of your mother’s patchouli bags,” I suggest, “and this one could hold a few pieces of her sea glass collection—”
“I think I prefer seeing the sea glass on you,” he says, pulling me into his arms.
“Come, on, we’ll never get this finished if you keep distracting me,” I say, nudging him away with my head. “These little shelves here,” I say, pointing to two of the rectangular openings at the bottom of the cabinet, my head feeling giddy as he starts kissing up behind my ear. “You could put little photos in, one of Gerry and your mum, and then something of yours here.”
“Can I put you in the memory cabinet?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. Then I admit defeat and give up all pretense of trying to keep the house clear-out PG-rated.
* * *
*
It takes us a while, but we finally do get the house empty, the carpet vacuumed, and the last bits and pieces into boxes for either the charity shop or the skip. All that remains to keep, Ted has packed in cases, to either store or drive back to England on the ferry.
“Will you take this back to London with you?” I ask, nodding toward the memory cabinet.
“I guess so,” Ted says, a heavy look returning.
The bubble of pleasure we have found in each other has distracted us from the realities of both our situations. The real world was always going to creep back in sooner or later. I have not opened any of the angry emails from work nor answered the work phone. What will I do now—dust off my old contacts from when I was a freelancer, or temp for a while until I can work out a better plan? I don’t know what Ted is thinking. He told me he has a review meeting with the hospital in a few weeks, about going back to work. If he doesn’t return straightaway, will he even want to be in London? I guess if he stays here for a bit, it’s a short flight for me to visit. Do I want to be in London now that Vanya is moving out of our flat? If I’m not working at Love Life, do I even need to be there? As my mind dances down all these avenues, I try to rein it in—focus on today. Whatever happens, it won’t be impossible for us to keep seeing each other.
“I will keep it with me wherever I am,” Ted says with forced jollity. “The perfect way to remember this house, to remember all the life lived here.”