Page 50 of Familiar Things New

Edwin squeezed his eyes shut to force the thoughts away. He needed to keep his mind on helping Andrew with the photography session. Which he really was enjoying anyway. It was proving to be just as pleasant as working in the conservatory. Edwin was free from the obligation of interacting with others in the darkroom, just as he was free from that precise thing while he worked as a nurseryman at the estate. Staying behind the thick layers of curtains was a welcome reprieve from socializing. Hidden in the makeshift darkroom, Edwin couldn’t help but feel so much less self-conscious.

For most of his life, he had felt as though he’d been forced to play the role of someone who wasn’t him. And playing that role had made interacting with most people intensely uncomfortable at best. For a whole bunch of different reasons, too. His clothing had never felt right on him, for instance, no matter the fabric or fit. His hair had bothered him constantly, even when he’d pinned it out of his face. He hadn’t ever been free to be the person—the man—he’d known himself to be in his heart, even before he’d consciously known it in his mind.

And while those specific things weren’t problems anymore, Edwin still had to be careful, ever mindful of the fact that he had yet to find his footing as a man in their often-stifling society. Even though Edwin had, in some respects, succeeded in seizing the life he’d always wanted—one he’d wanted even before realizing it—he still felt so uncertain sometimes, his reserved nature and fear of making social mistakes keeping him from becoming the poised and confident man he so fervently wanted to be.

Becoming Edwin, it seemed, hadn’t been a panacea for his lifelong shyness. And sometimes he found himself wondering if he’d ever overcome it.

Heaving a sigh, Edwin raked a hand through his hair as he waited for Andrew to finish taking the next photograph. From behind the thick linen, he heard the guests introduce themselves as Michael and Mabel Florence, and he listened to Andrew escort them over to the seating area. Murmurs of happy conversation followed and then so did light laughter.

Minutes later, while Andrew was likely leading the family out of the room, something clattered, and Andrew let out a pained cry. Edwin’s heart about flew out of his chest, and he rushed from the tent. He found Andrew sprawled on the floor, clutching his knee, an end table turned onto its side next to him. Andrew’s face was scrunched as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Drat,” he murmured.

Edwin knelt beside him. “Oh, for God’s sake, Andrew.”

He moved to rub Andrew’s back but quickly realized that the Florences were still nearby and thought better of it.

Face pinched, Andrew peered up at him. “I’m fine. I think.” He attempted to straighten his knee but winced. “Or maybe not.”

Edwin frowned. Mrs. Florence spoke up from behind him.

“Mr. Thompson, are you all right?”

“Yes, I think so,” Andrew called back, his wavering voice betraying him a little. “You can go enjoy the party.”

There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

After a bit more hesitation, the Florences left.

“Do you need help?” Edwin asked. He shuffled closer and put an arm around Andrew’s shoulders. “Use me for balance.”

Edwin helped Andrew hobble to his feet, and they started over to the sofa. Halfway there, Andrew looked back at the camera and then over at Edwin.

“Would you mind removing the plateholder for me soon?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Edwin said warmly.

After Andrew was safely resting on the sofa, Edwin hurried to remove the plateholder with the used plate and brought it into the tent, setting both items next to the other plates from earlier. Once he was finished, he collapsed onto the sofa next to Andrew with a relieved sigh. With the sunlight now threatening to become too low to effectively illuminate the area enough for proper exposure, the photography session had officially come to an end anyway. And what a blessing that was. Otherwise, Edwin might have had to work the camera or something. He shuddered at the thought.

Next to him, Andrew straightened his leg while letting out a pained groan.

“It’s not exactly pleasant to move my leg,” he said sheepishly.

“I hope it heals quickly,” Edwin replied.

“So do I.”

Leaning forward, Andrew rolled up his pant leg. His knee was red but only marginally swollen. Edwin had the strange, fleeting thought that he wanted to kiss it, but he swiftly shoved the intrusion away.

Instead, after checking to confirm that the door to the reception room was shut, Edwin inched his hand toward Andrew’s. He couldn’t risk holding it properly right then, but still, he wanted to provide some sort of comfort, and so, he let his fingertips brush Andrew’s pinky.

They sat like that for a while. Then, Andrew flipped his palm to the ceiling, and Edwin drew a little circle on it with his fingertip. Andrew shuddered and chuckled.

“Sorry,” he said. “It feels strange.”