41. Makenna
Makenna
I set my alarm for early Wednesday morning. Malcolm is working again today, thankfully he doesn’t have another overnight until after I leave. Not that I want to think about that, I’m just grateful for any and all time we have.
I want to surprise him with breakfast before he leaves. I had the idea while on my little hike yesterday and stopped for ingredients on the way home. Or back. This isn’t actually my home. It could be, one day. What a crazy thought.
I found a gluten-free pie crust at the store yesterday, so I decided to make a quiche. I hope Malcolm didn’t notice my prepped ingredients hidden toward the back of the fridge.
I’m dropping the spinach into the eggs, because, yes, I can eat spinach this way, when I hear footsteps upstairs.
What is he doing? I toss the bacon in and quickly and carefully slide the quiche into the oven.
I flip off the kitchen light, and when I hear Malcolm come down the stairs, I dive down behind the counter.
What am I doing? This is insane. His footfalls are hard to track as he makes his way around downstairs. I should just stand up, but I’m committed at this point.
I hear him grab his keys, but instead of leaving he continues to move around. It sounds like he’s about to step into the kitchen. He doesn’t move for a bit, so long that I wonder if I missed him leaving, but then his steps sound like they are getting further away, and the door opens and closes.
I want to tell him goodbye!
I pop up, and head toward the door, but my eyes catch on a paper that previously wasn’t on the counter.
Good morning sweetheart,
Since I am a wizard, I know you are hiding behind the counter (or maybe I heard you gasp, then saw that the oven is on). A fun way to start the morning. Though, it's hard to keep my eyes from you. You’re always so bonnie first thing.
I’ll be back in 20 with something special. Looks like we’re having a nice breakfast together. But I’ll be looking forward to tasting your lips first.
Until then,
Malcolm
I should be embarrassed I was caught hiding, but something about Malcolm and his words won’t let me. Oh my gosh, it’s gonna be hard to leave this man.
It’s odd to be wishing for time to move simultaneously faster and slower. I’m on this dream vacation that will be ending soon, and I want to stretch time so I can see and do all the things, but at the same time I’m watching the clock all day waiting for Malcolm to get off work.
There are places Mai and I had planned to visit while we were here, that I haven’t.
The Fairy Pools on the Isle of Skye, and Balmoral Castle, a residence of the British Royal Family.
The issue is, those places are two hours plus from here, and when I think of going that far, it’s as if I’m attached to Malcolm by a string that won’t stretch.
For now, I’m ignoring the fact that the string will have to be cut in four days.
I’m getting out of Malcolm’s car—his friend Rory picked him up for work so I could use it—when my phone rings.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, baby. How are you?”
“I’m good.” I close the car door outside the Inverness Botanic Gardens, then spot a sign for a café and decide to grab a drink while I talk with my mom. “Just falling in love with Malcolm. Waiting on him to get off work.”
“Oh, honey.”
“Yeah … hang on a sec. I’m gonna order a drink.” I press my phone to my chest and look at the kind-looking older woman behind the counter. “I’d like a vanilla latte, please.”
“Ah, good choice. That one’s a favourite around here.”
I smile, pay, and bring my phone back to my ear. “I’m back. So how are you? Anything new?”
“Same ole, same ole. Though, I did have a patient ask me out yesterday, so that felt pretty good.”
“Mom! Really?”
“Yep. He was eighty-five, but still.”
I snort a laugh, and the woman behind the counter looks up at me and smiles. “Do you think you’ll ever date again?” Mom stayed single while I was young, afraid to introduce anyone into our lives. She dated a couple of guys when I was in high school, but not since.
“I don’t know. Maybe I need a Scottish man.”
I laugh and look up to find the woman extending my drink. “Thank you.” I take a seat in an area overlooking the gardens. It’s absolutely beautiful. Tropical-looking plants make me imagine coming here on a cold day and feeling like I’ve escaped to the Caribbean.
“They’re great, but they certainly complicate things.”
“Do you know that I could work in Scotland? There are steps to go through, and tests to pass, but I could. I looked into it.”
“You looked into working here? Like moving here?”
“You know me. I’m always up for adventure. And sure, this would be a bit more than an adventure, but what’s holding us back?”
I straighten in my seat. “You’re serious? You’d move here?”
“If you don’t mind. I have extravagant plans for spoiling my grandchildren, and it would be hard to accomplish them all from across the Atlantic.”
“I’ve not even told you that Malcolm has feelings for me.”
“Of course he does. Doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And I thought … he’s got that big family there. It just makes sense. But only if it’s what you want, of course. And, I mean, I’m not sure we should move right when you get home, but if it gets to that point, all I’m saying is I’m willing and able.”
“Mom. I … wow.” I feel like my world has turned upside-down in the best possible way. “That’s good to know. I’m not sure, obviously I’ve not even known him for two weeks, but it feels like we could be heading that way.”
“I’m happy for you, honey. And I’ll support you in any way I can.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I hadn’t planned to cry at the botanic gardens today.
“Of course. Just keep an eye out for a man in his early fifties, just in case.”
Malcolm and I just finished dinner at The Mustard Seed. It’s a nice restaurant in an old, converted church with views of the River Ness. I had the salmon, and it was out of this world. Malcolm said it was because the fish was Scottish. They’re just better.
“You really didn’t have to pay for mine again,” I say. He ignored my earlier protests when the check came.
Malcolm opens the bill book. “I am thrilled to get to pay for your meal.”
He fills out the slip, and I notice his signature. It’s beautiful. “You don’t have the stereotypical doctor’s handwriting, do you?” I hadn’t thought about it when I read his note this morning, but it was nicely written as well.
“Further proof that I’m a wizard.” He grins as the server comes and takes the bill book. “I think that stereotype came about when doctors had to write a lot, while very busy. Most of what I do is electronic.”
“That makes sense.”
He nods. “It feels good to have a calligraphy master compliment my handwriting, though.”
“I just implied it wasn’t bad,” I tease.
“Still, that’s like a world-class plastic surgeon telling me my stitches are pretty good.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Yes, I’m sure it’s the very same.”
Malcolm reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I missed you so badly today, lass. It really made me dread you leaving.”
“Same. You’ve bewitched me body and soul,” I quote dramatically. “You know, since you’re a wizard.”
Malcolm grins and I barely notice the bill book being set back on the table as Malcolm leans in and slides his hand along my cheek. He presses the tiniest kiss to my lips. “Let’s get out of here.”