Against her rules, p.13
Against Her Rules, page 13
Right now his biggest concern was that there was something bothering Elsie. And he needed to figure it out.
“Now, I hope you’re hungry, because I think I cooked too much food,” he said, coming into the room. “I’d just planned on making sure you had plenty of energy for whatever the morning might bring,” he winked, “but I think I went a little overboard.”
At least she wasn’t crying any more. And her eyes were no longer red. If anything, she looked adorable. Sleepy even.
“I don’t know how hungry I am,” she said. And then she hiccuped. She covered her mouth with a look of shock. And hiccuped again. And again. And again.
“Oh.” hiccup. “No.” hiccup. “I hardly ever” hiccup “get the hic” hiccup “hiccups.” hiccup. “But when I do they last” hiccup “a long” hiccup “time.” hiccup. She moaned, and lay back on her pillow, cute little hics popping out of her the whole time.
“Try eating, that might help.”
But it didn’t. Instead she nearly choked on a piece of scrambled egg.
“Drink,” he said, passing her a glass of juice. No luck.
“I know the trick.” And he kissed her. But she just hiccuped more.
Breakfast was getting cold, and she couldn’t eat. He munched on bacon while googling cures for hiccups.
“This says to try drinking with your head turned upside down so it’s pointing towards the floor.”
It was amusing to watch from his perspective, especially since she was a sight to behold in that sexy nightgown. But it didn’t work.
“Here’s a website,” he said. “The Ultimate Guide to Curing Hiccups. It has over a thousand known remedies.”
“A thousand? hic I could try them all hic and it would make no hic diff—hic—erence.”
Still they tried a few. Cam particularly liked one that encouraged her to meow like a cat as she hiccuped. That just caused her to laugh. And hiccup harder.
After forty-five minutes it had gone from cute, to funny, and back to cute. But now it was just irritating. And if it was driving him mad, he could only imagine how she felt. There was only one thing left to try, but it wasn’t the ideal way to do it. It certainly wasn’t what he’d envisioned. But she was in misery. And he was miserable watching her, unable to help.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms. He rubbed her back, trying to ease the ache she’d told him about. Apparently her hiccups were painful. Who knew?
He kissed the top of her head. “It’s going to be alright. They’ll go away. You just need to think about something else.”
“I’m trying!” hic.
“Shhh. I know. Don’t talk. Just listen. Listen to my voice and my words and try and forget about it. Now close your eyes.”
He waited.
“Are they closed?”
“Yes.”
He pulled away from her to check. They were open. He touched her nose with his finger. “Close them. This is only going to work if you pay attention to everything I say.”
Her long eyelashes touched the tip of her cheeks as she closed them. He kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”
He pulled her close again and resumed rubbing her back. The fabric of her gown was like melted butter, and his hand slid over her body with ease.
“Now, the important thing to keep in mind here is that I’m not making any of this up just to make you feel better. Hiccup if you believe me.”
A small laugh was punctuated with a cute little hic.
“Now let your imagination flow. It’s fifty years from now and there’s a beautiful woman sitting on a chair overlooking the ocean. She has long flowing hair, that’s turned white with age. Can you see her?”
Elsie nodded.
“Good. On her lap is a little girl, maybe she’s six, maybe she’s ten. It’s hard to tell because she’s a petite little thing, just like her granny. The little girl has black hair and grey blue eyes.”
Cam had his eyes closed as well, trying to picture the scene. It was far easier this way. Although he wondered how Elsie could hear him, over the steady thumping of his heart. His chest felt full. Still, he continued with his tale. Elsie was still hiccuping, but they weren’t coming as quickly. That was a good sign.
“So the little girl looks at her granny, and asks, ‘Do you love grandpa?’ And the old woman doesn’t say anything. She just looks towards a cottage where there’s an old man, teaching a little boy to draw a robin.”
He felt her body tense. Should he continue or stop now before he would live to regret it. His pause must have been noticeable because Elsie tightened the hold she had around his waist. And hiccuped.
“The woman finally nods and the little girl says, ‘Tell me a story about the first time he told you he loved you.’
‘Well, she says to the child. I had the hiccups one morning and nothing worked to cure them.”
Elsie pulled away and looked up at him. “Cam?”
He had to say the words. He knew he did. But they were stuck. He closed his eyes. Why was it easier with his eyes closed?
“Campbell. Look at me,” she demanded.
He opened them again.
“Do you know why I was crying this morning?”
He wanted to know but somehow he’d lost the power to speak.
“I woke up and you weren’t there. And I thought you’d left me.” She ran a hand down his stubbly cheek. “I thought you had come to your senses, and decided that you had somewhere better to be than next to me. And I was terrified. Terrified that I’d lost you when I’d just come to realize that I was falling in love with you.”
“You...” Relief and joy and trepidation all coursed through his body at once.
“Yes. I know it’s crazy. We hardly know each other at all. But I do. I love you. It’s the only thing that makes sense for how I feel. All these emotions boiling over, and a general feeling of insanity. That must be love, right?”
He’d heard enough. He rolled her onto her back, sending the tray of food and coffee flying off the bed and onto the floor with a crash. He didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to have noticed.
Slowly he grazed his lips across hers. “I love you too, Elsie.”
“I know,” she said. “You cured my hiccups.”
Chapter Thirteen
It appeared the people of Heart’s Ease were more excited about birds than he’d realized. Cam had expected maybe a handful of people to show up. He’d set his easel in the library, thinking it would be sufficient for a cozy, fireside chat about birds. Instead, Elsie and her mother were expanding the dining room, sliding back the walls that separated the formal dining space from the more comfortable dining room they used for breakfast and lunch.
“Hope you’re not prone to stage fright,” Ida said, handing him a cup of coffee. “Although, we’re not a bad lot. I’d dare say you’ll only be corrected six or seven times.” She cackled and patted him on the arm.
“Where did all these people come from? I didn’t think there were this many people living in Heart’s Ease.”
“That’s because you haven’t really been paying attention to anything other than my niece,” she said. “But there’s a whole community full of people not in this house, and they love any chance they can get to come up here and have a gawk around. No offence, my dear, but you could be talking about bugs, or driftwood, or toast and they’d come out in droves. ‘Course it doesn’t hurt that there’s all kinds of talk about you and Elsie. They want to catch a glimpse of you to see what that’s all about too.”
Small towns, it seemed, were the same regardless of what side of the Atlantic you were on.
Several residents made their way over to introduce themselves to Cam. They were a chatty crowd, and wanted to know all about him. Where he was from. Had he heard of Newfoundland before. Did he like it here. What did he think about the weather. What did he think about the inn. What did he think about the Walsh family. Did he know that they had never known for Elsie to have a boyfriend. In fact, some folks thought she might prefer ladies, but then again, she didn’t have any girlfriends to speak of either. And did he think Elsie worked too much?
A lot of the questions were more statements, and they didn’t really seem to care if he answered them. He quickly discovered that they preferred it if he just nodded or spoke as little as possible. The only saving grace was that Ida didn’t leave his side, and managed to steer most of the awkward questions, namely those about Elsie, on to another topic.
He thought about what it must be like for Elsie, living in a place that for all intents and purposes was a throw-back to a lost time. Sure, there were modern conveniences all around, and the people were as in tune with what was happening in the world as anyone else thanks to TV and the net, but if you looked past those glaring reminders that you were in the twenty-first century, you could also be forgiven for thinking you had travelled back in time.
Earlier that day he and Elsie had gone for a walk through Heart’s Ease and he’d met some of her neighbours. They were cutting wood for their stoves, storing vegetables in root cellars, mending fishing nets by hand. A handful of kids were drawing on the road with chalk, despite the Nintendo DSs and iPods he spotted sticking out of their pockets.
“I love the smell of this place,” Elsie had said, squeezing his hand as she inhaled deeply.
He hadn’t noticed, but she was right. The crisp air was a harmony of salt water, wood smoke, and the mingling of flavours from various kitchens, wafting through open windows as everyone took advantage of the warm day. Combined, they filled the air with a warmth that spoke of homeliness.
“When I was away at university I missed this smell so much. Before I’d head back I would always take a walk and try and fill up on it. When the smog and din of Toronto would get to me, I’d close my eyes and try and recall this smell.”
“Did it work?”
“Nah, it just made me homesick. I knew even then that I wasn’t meant to be far from home. I mean, I love to travel and see new places. But this is home for me. You know?”
He didn’t. While he considered Glasgow his hometown, he’d spent as much time in recent years in London, and even some time down under in Sydney. He enjoyed each place, and was happy to live there, but there was no place that really called him back. Nowhere that spoke to him as if he belonged there.
Now, as he looked around the room, he saw more than a group of people that lived in the same place. They were more than neighbours. They were like family. For all the good, and bad, that comes with it. Sure, they were a little nosy and judgmental, but Cam thought it came from the heart. They weren’t malicious. They were just concerned about Elsie, and wanted to see her happy. He could tell they were proud of her.
Suddenly, this talk became more important to Cam. This was his chance to make an impression on the people of Heart’s Ease. He intended on spending a lot of time in this community, and it wouldn’t help if they started off hating him. No. He had to have these people on his side... in case he needed it.
They proved to be an attentive audience, for the whole fifteen minutes that he actually talked about the sea birds he’d observed this past week. Then the topic shifted. Thanks in no small part to dear Aunt Ida.
“Now,” she said, standing up in front of the room after an argument over what had actually happened to the Great Auk, an extinct penguin once native to Newfoundland. “Enough of this bird talk. Who here would rather learn about how a world famous artist goes about drawing?”
No one seemed that enthused.
“Elsie,” Ida called, looking around the room for her great niece. “Elsie, come up here.”
Cam watched as Elsie gave her aunt a wary look as she slowly made her way to the front of the room.
“Now, who’d like to hear how Cam would set out to draw a picture of Elsie? Norman Smith, I knows you likes to paint. You did that mural at the school.”
A portly man with a bad comb-over nodded.
“And Olive Norman, you draws those flower pictures for the garden party. Wouldn’t you like to learn how to draw people?”
Cam blanched. He wasn’t an art teacher. He didn’t know the first thing about showing others how to draw. He didn’t know how to describe what he did. It just came to him. He didn’t think about it at all. If he could have wrung the old woman’s neck and gotten away with it, he would have gladly done so.
“I don’t know, Ms. Walsh,” he said to Ida. “It’s not that interesting watching someone draw. And I’m really not a teacher.”
He shot a pleading look at Elsie.
“Why don’t we make this interactive,” Elsie interjected. “Who here would like to learn how to draw?”
A few hands went up in the air.
“Alright, then here’s what we’ll do. We’ll set out some paper and pencils and leads, and those who want to learn can take some supplies. Those that don’t can be models. And if you don’t want to draw, or model, then you can just enjoy the food.”
She smiled at Cam. “Better plan?”
At least he wouldn’t have all eyes on him, so yea, that was better.
Before long more than half the people in the room were either drawing or posing. Cam’s teaching was a bit unconventional, especially his advice to not try and draw a replica of the person before them. Instead, rely on feelings about the person to try and capture their personality.
“It’s okay if the finished product isn’t spot on. Just have fun.”
Cam was having fun sketching Elsie. He was amazed at how different parts of her personality shone through depending on what she was doing. When he’d sketched her in the boat, she was excited and almost childlike. Now she was calm and inviting, looking away from him to chat with various people and see how they were doing.
She’d told him earlier that it was important that the community not resent the inn. It was her hope that eventually she’d find other ways to open the house up to them. Cam looked around at his art class. Men in jeans and ball caps, women in sweater sets, and a couple of teenagers who looked like they were actually enjoying spending a Monday evening with a bunch of old people learning to draw... and they were all smiling. And laughing at themselves as they compared their fledgling attempts at portraiture.
I could do this all the time!
There was no reason he couldn’t start teaching art here. Maybe every couple of weeks, if Elsie was cool with it. They could do it in the inn during the winter, and once the summer came he could have outdoor classes. By then, they might be ready to tackle birds and landscapes. And he wouldn’t charge anything. He didn’t need the money. It would be his way of giving something to the town.
There was only one thing standing in his way. He needed to convince Elsie that he belonged here. All the time. With her. Because it was clear to him that he’d found a place to call home. It was with Elsie. And if this was where she wanted to be, it was where he belonged as well. Now all he had to do was convince her that they belonged together. Forever.
The night was turning into one surprise after another. When it became clear to her that Cam’s talk on birds was quickly taking a nose dive into awkwardness and boredom she struggled to find a way to save him. But Ida had beaten her to it. God love Aunt Ida. Her idea was brilliant. Elsie would never have thought an art lesson would appeal to everyone, but as she looked around it was clear that this might be the most fun people had had at the inn. She normally went out of her way to create lavish events. Everyone dressed up, and she tried to create an elegant night. Afterwards, people would comment on what a lovely time they’d had, but Elsie wondered if that was the case. But tonight everyone seemed content. They were laughing, and talking, and didn’t seem as in awe of the house as they normally did.
“Paddy Doyle,” Elsie called out to a man in his fifties who was chatting with her Dad. “What are the chances you brought your guitar with you? I think a song or two might not go astray right now.”
A few people cheered.
“Come on, Paddy, play us a tune,” her mother said, sending a smile towards her daughter.
Before long the drawing had ceased, and a real Newfoundland kitchen party was in the works—although it was happening in a dining room fit for a queen.
Paddy was joined by Elsie’s cousin Nipper Walsh who was also a decent guitar player, and her Dad, who brought out his old button accordion. Chairs were pushed back against the wall to make room for a small dance floor, and as they started playing a slow traditional song, a number of couples began dancing an old-fashioned waltz.
Elsie turned down the bright lights, and stood against the wall watching. Without a doubt her neighbours were having a better time than she’d ever seen them have.
“What’s going on in that head?” Cam slid his arms around her waist, and she leaned back onto his chest.
“Just thinking about how I’ve tried so hard to plan every little detail to ensure everyone has a good time whenever they come over, and yet all it took was an impromptu kitchen party to make them happy.”
“Well, we know a fascinating talk on birds isn’t their cup of tea,” he laughed.
“In my defence, that idea wasn’t well thought out.”
“No?”
“No. I was just trying to cover my tracks when you caught me not paying attention.”
“You mean you weren’t interested in my vast bird knowledge?”
“Not in the least. And if you only knew the thoughts that were going through my mind— well, let’s say most of them have now played themselves out.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Really?”
She pushed herself against him and shifted just enough for her back to stroke his crotch.
“Most of them. But there’s lots of time to get to the others.”
“Tease,” he mumbled. “Any chance we can sneak out of here and you can tell me more?”
She shook her head. “I’m the hostess. Have to make sure everyone is having a good time.”
“Elsie,” he turned her to face him. “You’re always so worried about everyone else having a good time, or a good meal, or a good rest. Who makes sure you get all those things?”
