CHAPTER SEVEN ~ GRAEME ~ NOW
“We have a problem.”
My serious tone does nothing to wipe the smile from my brother’s face. “Just what you want to hear only moments after arriving on holiday.”
I huff out a laugh. “Sorry, but there’s no time to beat around the bush.” I eye a nearby parking attendant who’s scanning the area while moving closer to the van. “There’s been a leak in the room Abby and Fern were meant to stay in at Mum and Dad’s.”
Brodie’s smile disappears as his eyebrows bounce toward his hairline. “Well, shit. The joys of owning a four-hundred-year-old building, eh? What are we going to do?”
“It only affected half the room, so one of the beds is fine,” I tell him. “Mum suggested one or both of the girls stay with me, depending on their preference. She figured you and Drew would want to stay with them since you have things to discuss.”
“Right.” Brodie bobs his head absently, his gaze fixed on something behind me. “Right. Okay, well, why not see if Abby wants to stay with you? I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do, plus she’s stayed with you before.”
Something clenches in my gut. Having Abby stay with me makes the most sense.
And Fern, of course, if she wants to, but she and Abby would have to share a bed since my spare room only has a double.
When Mum called late last night about the leak, I almost laughed, even though it’s not remotely funny.
Considering the way I’d been hemming and hawing about things since Brodie and Drew filled me in on their plans for a group trip to Scotland, the leak felt like the universe’s way of shoving Abby and me together.
I thought about texting Abby once the others revealed the big surprise.
It seemed like a good idea to open the doors of communication before seeing each other since we haven’t exchanged more than a few messages for the last several years.
I chickened out, though, convincing myself it’d be better to reconnect in person.
I also toyed with the idea of only staying in Edinburgh long enough to see everyone and then making some excuse about needing to go to Skye.
The last thing I want is to make Abby uncomfortable, yet it’d be impossible to avoid her, considering Brodie is my brother and they’re all staying with our parents.
Ultimately, I decided I’d feel her out, see how things were between us, and if there was a chance we could rekindle our friendship and get back to how things used to be.
We were best friends once, and we always promised each other we’d stay that way, even after we crossed the line into...
whatever we ended up as. Lovers, yes, but it was so much more than that.
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over the stubble on my jaw.
“Aye, we’ll run it by them and see what they say.
Dad thinks we should stall until things are ready at home so they’re not thrust into chaos upon arrival.
He’s working to clean up their spare room while Mum tackles mine.
I’ve been using it as a catch-all since I moved back from Skye, so it’s a disaster.
She said she’d text me when it’s habitable. ”
I lock eyes with the parking attendant, who jerks her chin toward the van. I give her a nod, and murmur to Brodie that it’s time to go.
I climb into the driver’s side, pleased when Abby offers me a tentative smile.
Picking the van up from Rab this morning was like entering a time machine; the interior is exactly the same as it was all those years ago, down to the Highland Breeze air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, and the underlying sweet scent of tobacco clinging to the upholstery from Rab’s smoking habit.
For a moment, I could have sworn I smelled Abby’s light floral scent, even though I knew my mind was playing tricks on me.
I smell it now, though, and it’s so achingly familiar it makes my chest tight.
The sight of her in that seat, especially wearing a red jacket so similar to the one she wore throughout her uni days, gives me that time machine feeling again.
I can clearly picture her riding in the front with me during road trips, talking with the others in the back, all smiles and delighted giggles.
Her camera was constantly poised, ready to capture whatever caught her eye.
Her beautiful face was alight with wonder every time I looked at her.
If I hadn’t already been hopelessly in love with her, I would have fallen headfirst solely from her reactions to seeing my homeland.
“All right, you lot,” I say as I pull away from the pick-up area and navigate out of the airport.
I catch Brodie’s eye in the rearview mirror, and he gives me a nod.
“I know you might want to get to MacKinlay Tower and get settled, but I also know the coffee on your flight was likely shite, so you’re probably in need of caffeine. ”
There’s a chorus of agreements from all four of my passengers.
A glance in Abby’s direction shows her eyes glued to the front window, even though there’s not much to see yet.
The trio in the back keep up a steady stream of chatter on the half-hour drive into the city.
My eye is drawn regularly to Abby, whose head swivels between the windshield and the passenger window.
Her lips are curved in a tiny smile, and I swear she barely blinks as she eagerly takes everything in.
There’s no sight of the camera the others gave her as an early birthday gift, but she snaps the occasional photo on her phone.
I’m tempted to head for the city centre.
St. Andrew’s Square was one of Abby’s favourite spots fourteen years ago, and it’s in full bloom now.
Parking anywhere near there is a nightmare, though, and a pricey one at that.
Instead, I head for the Palace of Holyroodhouse and find a parking spot on a nearby street.
Abby is practically bouncing in her seat as she unbuckles her seatbelt. Her smile has grown, and when her bright eyes land on me, they damn near take my breath away.
“I worried I’d forget my way around after all this time, but I know exactly where we are,” she says. “This is Abbeyhill, right? And MacKinlay Tower is just ten minutes or so that way?” She motions toward the Royal Mile, the lower part of which is known as Canongate, where my parents and I live.
“Right. I thought coffee and a wee stroll near the palace would be a good way to stave off jet lag.” Suddenly aware of the silence in the back, I turn to see that the others have already gotten out.
I chuckle to myself as I unfasten my seatbelt and pocket the keys.
“I was sure you’d be the first one out, leading the charge. ”
Abby makes a soft humming sound, her gaze falling from mine as she opens her door. Right before she steps out, she asks, “That witchy-looking house is near here, right?”
I hold back a smile. “Queen Mary’s Bath House? Aye.”
She makes that humming sound again. I suspect she knows I brought them here with her in mind.
She loved the strangely-shaped two-storey structure just northeast of the palace, although she was disappointed that the field of daffodils had already begun to wilt.
I still remember her wistful tone when she’d said, “I bet they’re spectacular when they’re in full bloom. ”
We join the others and head for the closest coffee shop.
When we leave a few minutes later, cardboard cups in hand, Abby is at the head of the pack.
She shoots a look over her shoulder, and when her eyes land on mine, I can practically read her mind: See?
Leading the charge now, just like you expected.
We head for the ornate gates of Holyroodhouse and peer through at the imposing Baroque-style palace.
Before The Crew’s first visit, I’d visited Edinburgh Castle a couple of times, but never Holyrood, despite its proximity to my parents’ place.
I’d passed by, of course, and had seen it from above when I hiked Arthur’s Seat, but my first proper visit to the palace and abbey was thanks to Drew insisting we visit one afternoon.
We ended up spending nearly two hours touring the palace, abbey, and grounds, and I’d been equally as fascinated as the others by its rich history and incredible architecture.
The girls had also been interested to learn the palace was the official Edinburgh residence of the monarch—Queen Elizabeth II at the time—and that when she was in town, she sometimes attended church services at Canongate Kirk just down the street from our building of flats.
Abby hands her coffee cup to Drew and pulls her camera out of her bag, looping the strap around her neck.
A strange sense of rightness overtakes me at the sight.
In the years we spent together, Abby’s camera was such a regular sight, it was practically an extra appendage.
I smile to myself as I watch her remove the lens cap and fiddle with the settings, her brows drawn in concentration.
When she lifts the camera to her eye and turns slowly, I know she’s simply testing it out, but that doesn’t stop my smile from growing as she passes over me.
She freezes and doubles back, surprising me when her finger depresses the shutter.
She lowers the camera to glance at the screen.
She told me once that she felt as if she could see the world more clearly through the lens, and she tended to notice things she missed with the naked eye.
As those familiar brown eyes meet mine now, I wonder what she saw in the image she just captured.
If she could see my feelings for her painted across my face in that moment before I thought to school my expression.
Drew points something out beyond the gates, and Abby turns to look, raising her camera once more and snapping several pictures.
We move on through Abbey Strand, stopping to check out the Physic Garden and medicinal plants, and then on toward the bath house.
I fall into step beside Fern and ask her about the hot yoga classes she’s been posting about on BeSocial.
While I’m genuinely interested in her answer, this vantage point also affords me the perfect view of Abby’s face as she takes in the sea of yellow and white daffodils mixed with red tulips that cover the ground.
I recognize the look on her face, even though it’s been years since I’ve seen it.
I always thought of it as ‘joyful overwhelm’.
She’d see something extraordinary—even if she was the only one who considered it that—and would practically vibrate.
It was like she was happy and grateful and awed all at once, and it usually resulted in tears mixed with self-deprecating laughter.
A lot of people would look at this sea of daffodils and tulips and think ‘that’s pretty’, but Abby sees something else.
Something more. I’ve missed experiencing the world through her eyes.
I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t taken time to truly pay attention to my surroundings.
Maybe that will change now that The Crew has been reunited.
While Abby takes pictures, the rest of us end up in a loose circle near the bath house, drinking our coffee and catching up.
From the corner of my eye, I see Abby moving closer, and I glance over as she snaps a picture of us.
As our eyes meet and my mouth curves reflexively in a smile, she takes another photo.
I’m about to suggest we head over to New Calton Burial Ground—another favourite place of Abby’s—when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I check it and find a text from Mum saying we can come home whenever we’re ready.
I catch Brodie watching me as I slide my phone back into my pocket, and we exchange nods.
“We have a slight issue,” I announce to the group. “It’s not a big deal, but it’ll require some shuffling. There’s been a leak in the twin guest room at Mum and Dad’s, and one of the beds is ruined.”
Silence follows as they take in this information.
Brodie jumps in before I can continue, addressing Abby and Fern. “Graeme said one of you can stay with him. Abs, I suggested you since you two have always been the closest, and you stayed with him after we all left on our first visit.”
“Fern, you’re welcome to stay with me too since the room at Mum and Dad’s is a bit of a disaster,” I say.
Fern shakes her head. “I appreciate it, but if the second bed is okay, I’m fine with sleeping there. I liked the vibes in that room when we stayed before. The Victorian lady who haunts it still visits me in my dreams sometimes. I bet the disruption with the leak is pretty disturbing for her.”
We all stare at her, speechless. I had forgotten about the ghost that supposedly haunts that room.
By the time the others went back to Canada and Abby came to stay with me, she was so freaked out, I figured it was best not to tell her about the experiences I’d had with spectral guests in my own flat.
Drew is the first to break. Laughter spills out of her, and then the rest of us are laughing too. She loops an arm around Fern’s shoulders and plants a kiss on her temple. “Never change, Ferny.”
When our amusement subsides, my gaze finds Abby’s. She’s watching me with narrowed eyes, her head tilted slightly in question.
“Abby, are you good to stay with Graeme?” Brodie asks.
Although her expression remains neutral, she’s still looking right at me, so I don’t miss the myriad of emotions that swirl through her eyes. I wonder if she’s coming up with excuses. I wouldn’t blame her.
Still, I’m relieved when she says, “Of course. It’ll be great.”
I hope she’s right. Part of me worries the two of us alone together is a recipe for disaster.