Chapter 20
What should have been an hour drive took almost twice as long because of all the traffic. Whilst Callan had come to appreciate modern conveniences, he despised traffic.
They paid for parking, something that annoyed him as well, and then clipped a leash on Frankie as they walked the cobblestone streets, looking at the buildings.
They wandered through Williamsburg, watching the craftsmen at work and the costumed laborers who brought history to life. The familiar clang of a hammer on metal had him turning down a street to see the blacksmith’s forge.
“Interested in trying your hand?” the blacksmith asked, noticing his interest.
When he was fifteen he had saved a man from bandits and in return, the blacksmith gave him a place to sleep, food, and Callan labored beside him, learning a trade until the man was killed and Callan barely escaped with his life.
The blacksmith handed him a hammer and showed him how to make a nail. ’Twas satisfying to make something, to see a thing finished. His muscles flexed as he struck the red-hot iron.
“You’re a natural.” Daisy watched him work, her hair piled up on her head as it was hot today.
He took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow and patted his stomach.
“I should labor all day so I do not run to fat, eating all the road trip snacks.”
After the blacksmith, they visited various shops and exhibits. The scent of roasted meats and spices drew them to a tavern where they enjoyed their midday meal. The interior was dimly lit, with wooden beams overhead and a roaring fire in the hearth even though ’twas warm outside.
“I’ve never had shepherd’s pie,” Daisy said as the server took their order.
He asked for the same and when the server returned, they dug in, enjoying the pie, cornbread, cider, and ale.
As Callan watched Daisy, her laughter filling the room, warmth spread through his chest.
The lass talked with her hands, her many rings sparkling in the light, her bracelets jingling as she gestured.
When had he fallen in love with her? He thought it was when she hit him in the head with the green disc or perchance when she offered him a place to stay. She was kind and good and always saw the best in people.
From what she told him of her parents, he knew she was worried about the ones she cared for leaving her. It was why he had not wooed her more, for if he returned to his own time, he did not want her to be sad.
After spending so much time together, the thought of not being able to go home didn’t seem so daunting anymore.
He truly had only just met his half-brother, William.
They had not spent much time together, and while the connection was important, it wasn’t as strong as the bond he had formed with her.
Family was the only thing in life he had ever wanted. But mayhap family was what he made it to be. William had Lucy and their children. He did not need Callan. Whilst Daisy did need him, and it felt good to be needed.
“Callan?” She stood, hands on her hips. “Are you ready to go?”
When he nodded, still lost in thought, she rolled her eyes. “I swear you’re a million miles away today. What’s on your mind?”
He smiled, taking her hand. “Just thinking how lucky I am to have met ye. You have made this journey worthwhile.”
That made her eyes sparkle as she hugged him. The feel of her made him want to stop time, to keep her in his life. His brother would have approved of Callan finding someone he cared for.
After lunch, they visited the Governor’s Palace, a verra grand building. They joined a tour, learning about the history of the building.
“Who needs this much space?” he said with a frown.
“Not me.” She looked around. “I never would have thought I’d like something smaller than my studio apartment, but the camper van has been fun, even if you do take up all the space.” She teased him.
They decided to drive for a few hours before stopping for the night.
Soon they would be in North Carolina. America was such a big country, with so many people and landscapes.
He loved all of it, wanted to see every state.
Daisy told him about Alaska and Hawaii, making him yearn to wander the world with her by his side.
When they got up the next morning, it was foggy and rainy, but by the time they set out, the rain had stopped.
It was her turn to drive. As she turned on the music, she bounced in the seat, singing along, not caring that she was off-key and sometimes made up her own words.
“Just think, in a few hours, we’ll be crossing the state line into North Carolina.”
But after driving for an hour, Daisy told him they were making a stop in Suffolk, Virginia, to visit a peanut museum. He did not know what a peanut was, but since they would be together, he did not care where she stopped.
As she told him about the museum, he blinked. “An entire building dedicated to the wee peanuts?” America was as odd as it was interesting.
“Wait until you try boiled peanuts. They’re one of those things you either like or hate, no middle ground.”
The Peanut Museum took them through the history and harvesting of peanuts. He enjoyed looking at the scenes of peanut farming but ’twas the exhibit where they could make their own peanut butter, that he grinned. Daisy was so excited she was practically hopping up and down.
A look of intense concentration on her face, he watched as she turned the grinder.
When she handed him a freshly roasted peanut, he wasn’t sure about it.
“Try one.”
Unsure, he popped the whole peanut into his mouth, shell and all. His expression quickly changed from curiosity to confusion.
“Do ye eat the shell?” he said, trying to speak through the crunch.
Daisy burst out laughing. “Some people do, but no, I never do. Crack them open first.” She demonstrated and then popped the nuts into her mouth.
Without the shell, he decided he liked the crunchy peanut.
After they each made a jar of homemade peanut butter, she spread some on a cracker and handed him one, watching as he took a bite.
“What do you think?”
When he finally swallowed, Callan looked around. “It sticks to my mouth. Where is the water?”
She pointed him to a machine. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Seizing the opportunity, Callan slipped away to the small shop he had noticed when they entered the museum.
Now he could add another charm to the bracelet for Daisy.
At every place they visited, he went into the shop when she was on her phone or elsewhere and bought a charm for the bracelet.
It would be something to remember their trip together.
Inside the shop, Callan browsed through the offerings, looking for the perfect charm. There. Two charms together, one of a small peanut and the other a wee jar of the butter.
As he waited to pay, Callan pulled out a small tattered scrap of plaid from the pocket of his jeans. It was all that remained of his mother’s plaid. Carefully wrapped inside was the bracelet with the other charms he had secretly collected.
He looked at each charm, a small smile playing on his lips. There was one from Boston, another from the Renaissance Faire, a tiny replica of the USS Constitution, the Lincoln Memorial, the Statue of Liberty, and several others.
After purchasing the charms, he returned to the spot where he had left Daisy, tucking the parcel back into his pocket.
Once they were in Holden Beach, he would buy the last charm and present the bracelet to her, telling her he wanted to stay with her, that he no longer wished to return to his own time.
“Oh, look. We have to stop at the Giant Peanut Monument.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling as they stopped on the side of the road next to an oversized concrete peanut. As they took turns posing for photos next to the monument, Callan noticed two brothers nearby, laughing and taking pictures with their family.
A wave of sadness hit him as he stood there watching them. He thought of William and what might have been if only they’d had time to get to know each other. Of the bond of brotherhood they might have shared.
After departing the Peanut Museum and grabbing some fresh boiled peanuts for snacking, Callan and Daisy continued on toward North Carolina.
Daisy, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail that swung as she drove, had made them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which they ate as an afternoon snack while they drove. Callan did not like boiled peanuts. They were revolting.
“I hate the boiled peanuts.”
She shrugged. “Told ya, love or hate, no middle ground.”
The lass was right.
“Ugh, I swear peanut butter always sticks to the roof of my mouth,” Daisy laughed after taking a big bite of her sandwich.
“Aye. The peanut paste sticks like mud to a boot.”
While they couldn’t stand up in the van unless they popped the top, he unbuckled his seat belt and knelt down next to the ice chest they used for drinks.
“Pepsi or water?” He asked as he gave Frankie a biscuit and some water.
“Pepsi, please.” He refilled her bright purple cup that kept their drinks cold and the ice from melting all day long. When he asked her how it worked, she took his tablet, went to the company information and gave it back to him to read.
He handed her the drink, poured root beer in his own black cup and carefully climbed back into the passenger seat, buckling the safety belt.
The sun came out and a song about a home in Alabama came on the radio, as he reached over to turn it up. The music had him tapping his foot as Daisy sang along, making Frankie bark.
When the song ended, Daisy glanced over at him, huge dark sunglasses on her face. She’d bought him a pair of aviator sunglasses, telling him he looked hot in them. It had taken him a while to understand that hot could mean the warmth of a fire or the sun, or hot could mean a most pleasing visage.
“You’ll love Roanoke Island.” Daisy said as she told him about the place. “An entire colony disappeared without a trace. Maybe they all traveled to another time.”