Page 9 of Familiar Things New

Hurriedly, Andrew scooped up some of the soil, and then he lifted his gaze to see the other man still frozen, his hazel eyes unblinking and mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Some of the fellow’s blond hair had fallen over his forehead as well, leaving him looking slightly disheveled, as though the whole of who he was had begun to unravel in mere moments.

Guilt curdled in Andrew’s stomach. He had to fix this somehow. He just couldn’t stand the way the man was looking at him—as though he had shattered something much more precious, much more important, than a little plant.

Lifting his soil-filled fists higher, Andrew said, “Where should I put this?”

Chapter Three

Edwin

Edwin stayed frozen for a moment as the photographer’s words rattled around in his brain. He fixed his gaze on the man’s fists. Bits of soil were slipping through the cracks between the man’s fingers, the particles pouring onto the floor like black rain. Edwin’s eyes moved to the smashed planter—one of a kind, purchased from somewhere in India—and bile rose up his throat. Clenching his teeth, he swallowed hard to try to force it back down.

In one terrible instant, the trust that the Whitneys had placed in him had been shattered. And now Edwin would surely lose his job. Mistakes happened. But mistakes like this—ones involving the Whitneys’ favorite vase and the rarest flower in the conservatory—were very likely unforgivable. Perhaps Edwin could tell the Whitneys that it was the photographer who had knocked over the planter, but he couldn’t imagine such a thing would matter much to them. Because it was Edwin who had so carelessly placed the pot close to the edge of the ornate iron table in the first place, pairing the blue orchid with the other, more commonly colored ones, rather than keeping it somewhere safer. Looking at the table now, it was painfully clear that it was overcrowded. Oh God, why had he chosen to put the flower there?

Finally, Edwin shifted his gaze back to the photographer, who was still looking at him with large, pleading eyes, and he fought back a sigh. Obviously, the man hadn’t meant to knock over the orchid. And it wasn’t his fault that Edwin’s finances were hanging by a thread, either. Besides, Edwin needed to try to save the poor plant, regardless. Even if the planter itself couldn’t be saved.

Resigned to his fate, Edwin left to fetch an empty, entirely ordinary terracotta planter from one of the corners of the conservatory. He’d been keeping some extra planters behind the ferns where no one would see them.

“We can scoop the soil into here,” Edwin said when he returned.

He knelt down next to the man and placed the planter on the floor between them. Frowning, he scooped up a handful of soil himself, using his hands just as the other man had. Even though Edwin vaguely realized that he ought to have found a small shovel for the task, he was too crestfallen to care. Together, he and the photographer scooped up the majority of the soil with their bare hands, leaving behind a thin layer of it on the floor when they were finished.

Afterward, Edwin picked up the orchid. He cradled the plant in his hands by lifting it from the bottom and noted that some of its roots had torn during the fall. Hopefully it would still survive.

In a soft voice, the photographer said, “I really am sorry.” Edwin stayed quiet. He was sorry, too, for he knew he should have chosen a more sensible spot for the planter. “It’s a pretty flower,” the man remarked, a hint of wonderment in his voice beneath the palpable sorrow. “What, uhm, what’s it called?”

Edwin cleared his throat. “It’s an orchid.” He made a little hole in the soil with his free hand before placing the plant in it. “Blue is the rarest color. Exceptionally rare.”

After a pause, the man asked, “Do they sell them here?”

“In Albany?” Edwin asked, to which the man nodded. Edwin shook his head. “No.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and then the photographer’s mournful brown eyes fell back to the planter. Edwin’s chest tightened. If he’d been the one in the photographer’s position, he’d have felt horrible. It really hadn’t been the man’s fault.

Edwin began to fill in the hole, moving some soil over it as he held the plant steady with his other hand.

“I think he’ll be fine, though,” Edwin said, softening his voice a bit. He looked up from the soil and attempted a smile. “In fact, I’ll make sure of it.”

Relief washed over the other man’s face, and he returned Edwin’s small smile with one of his own. Then, the man reached into the planter to help fill in the hole. Edwin kept the plant upright as he watched the photographer work to make the soil perfectly level, patting it with his open palm. When he was close to finishing, his and Edwin’s fingers brushed.

Warmth bloomed on Edwin’s cheeks. It was strange to be huddled so close to a stranger like this. Especially one so handsome. It never would have been possible for him to be in such a situation before he’d begun living as the man he was now, especially with no one else in the room to chaperone them here at the estate.

Edwin couldn’t help but wonder whether the photographer might be able to tell that he was . . . an uncommon sort of man, somehow.

“I’m Andrew,” the man said, pulling Edwin out of his thoughts. Heat still lingered on Edwin’s cheeks, and when the man looked up to meet Edwin’s eyes, Edwin noticed the faintest hint of pink on his face as well. “Thompson. But I’d prefer it if you just called me Andrew.”

Edwin took a pause to try to commit Andrew’s name to memory by repeating it in his head.

Andrew.

Hesitantly, Edwin stuck out his hand for the other man to shake.

“Edwin Beasley,” he said softly. His heart then stumbled as Andrew shook his hand. “But you can call me Edwin.”

Andrew’s small smile broadened. After a beat, his kind smile faltered as his brows pinched together, and he released Edwin’s hand.

“Do you really think the plant will be all right?” he asked.

Finding himself in a bit of a daze as a result of his and Andrew’s close proximity to each other (not to mention Andrew’s obvious blush and stunning looks), Edwin only managed a small nod.