Chapter 23 #2
“You'll be fine,” I assure him. “They’re gentle. And they're more nervous than you are. Except maybe one. Look, he's already standing by the window waiting for you.”
Marco seems to relax as we make our way up the path.
“What's in the paper bag?” I ask.
He darted into the mall on our way here, but insisted that I didn’t peek.
“Wait and see,” he grins, holding my hand for courage.
The garden is bursting with lavender, rosemary, and overenthusiastic pots of geraniums.
Wind chimes greet us in the sea breeze.
As the front door opens, a faint hint of salt and herbs envelop us.
Something delicious is cooking in the oven.
My mother steps out first, wiping her hands on a tea towel.
“You must be Marco,” she says, embracing him warmly. “I'm Ava. It’s so lovely to meet you. Keith’s just finishing the roast, he’ll come say hello soon.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” he beams.
Next to Mum stands Talia and her hubby.
Robbie holds out his hand, giving Marco a friendly back pat.
“Hey man, nice to meet ya.”
“Yeah, you too,” he replies.
“And I'm Talia.” My sister hugs us one by one. “Somebody's pretty keen to show you the tower they've been building. Say hello to Marco, don't be shy.”
Two little faces peer out from behind her skirt.
A tiny hand waves.
“This is Ollie.” I ruffle his sticky hair. “And this monkey here is Benson.”
My younger nephew has wrapped himself around my leg.
Ollie tugs Marco by the sleeve and leads him down the hallway.
“You wanna see my tower that I made? It goes all the way up to the clouds.”
“Absolutely I do, let's go see it.”
Marco grins over his shoulder as he disappears from view.
Benson toddles after them, not wanting to be left out.
“I gave him a heads up before we got here,” I tell the others. “He's been brushing up on dragon lore this afternoon.”
“He's wonderful, sweetheart. Such a gem,” Mum croons. “Come inside, let's get you a cuppa.”
She wanders off to find the teabags.
“He’s super cute,” Talia swoons. “Go little brother.”
My neck grows warm.
She’s not wrong though.
Marco still melts me just as much as he did that first day.
◆◆◆
Somewhere on the other side of the house, I hear a stampede of little feet.
And one big pair of feet.
In the kitchen, sun streams across timber floors before fading.
“Herbed chicken with lemon,” Mum explains. “And baked apples with custard for after.” “Sounds perfect.”
I give her a smooch on the cheek.
A worried look crosses her face.
“Oh gosh, I forgot to ask. He's not vegan or vegetarian or anything, is he?”
“Nah, you're all good,” I laugh. “He's not a drinker though. And maybe don't ask about his family yet. Bit of a tricky topic.”
“Glad you told me,” she smiles, handing me two cups of tea.
Dad hooks an arm around my shoulder, still wearing floral oven mitts.
“How's my boy, anyway?”
“Been good, Pa. You behaving yourself?”
“Always do,” he says with a wink. “Met your handsome fella just before. But somebody’s already snatched him away from us.”
“Ollie's recruited him as a construction manager,” Mum chuckles.
The table is set for eight, as it has been all month.
I find my sweet man in the corner, surrounded by wooden blocks.
Benson is navigating a small yellow dump truck across Marco's back.
The kids watch in awe as he adds the final bricks to their masterpiece.
“Now our tower reaches all the way up to the stars,” I hear him say. “And if you look through your telescope, you might see a dragon sleeping on the moon.”
My nephew’s eyes grow round with imagination, peering through a cardboard tube.
Ollie runs off to find his favourite book, then sits in Marco's lap.
Backs still turned, they don’t notice me leaning in the doorway.
I listen to every page about dragons who love eating tacos.
The smile on my face almost aches.
I’m so in love with this man.
Soon the tea grows cold in our cups because I forget I’m holding them.
◆◆◆
Bellies full and sky darkening outside, we nestle onto couches.
The dishwasher hums in the next room.
“Both boys down for the count,” Robbie whispers, closing the door behind him.
“Snoring like sailors,” Talia adds.
The miniature spiral bound sketchbooks and felt pens inside the paper bag were a huge hit.
“Just like Uncle Amos!” Ollie had said with delight.
He’s watched me render designs for clients so many times.
The kids wasted no time lining up all their favourite colours.
Doodling on the page, my nephew shaped magical wings and a burst of fiery breath.
Then, holding Marco's arm steady, he traced an inky replica from paper to skin.
The subtle buzzing sound from his lips made it apparent that he’d been paying close attention during those studio visits. And I couldn’t have been more proud.
Hours later, the colours are still vibrant and unsmudged.
I take a photo.
“For his future portfolio,” Ava smiles.
“He’s gonna have customers lining up around the block,” Talia grins.
I hold the felt-penned wrist closer to the lamp.
“Baby, I'm still a little jealous that you hired someone else for your first tattoo.”
But Marco has no regrets.
“Ollie’s customer service was gold star. I couldn’t say no.”
“Maybe I should hire him,” I sigh. “I mean… this kid’s use of colour is impressive. Look at that attention to detail. Nice shading on the wings. For an amateur, his linework and placement are bold.”
“Barely felt the needle,” Marco teases.
We’re doing our best to keep a straight face, but I can’t.
“I’ve spent years trying to achieve this level of creative freedom. Honestly, I’m gonna have to step up my game.”
I give his knee a squeeze.
Marco squeezes back.
My heart is brimming at full capacity.
All of my favourite people in one place.
As I turn to look at him, I know three things for sure.
One, I love him.
Two, I love him.
Three, there are no guests in this room, only family.