“Hey, you’re back!” Amy waltzed into the living room, all smiles. “Jason got me some camera equipment, and he’s helping assemble this nasty tripod.”
Jason gave me a mocking smile then proceeded to show Amy how to collapse the black metal tripod so it was as small as a medium-sized handbag. There were other pieces of camera equipment on the end table, entire boxes of zoom lenses and other stuff I couldn’t identify.
“Thanks,” Amy said sweetly, giving him a hug. “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”
He snorted. “We both know I’m the best.”
“Eh! You’re my least favorite brother, but you’re okay.”
“I’m your only brother,” he said with an exasperated look.
Amy ignored him. “I thought you’d be at Candace’s for longer,” she said to me. “Jason got you something too, but I already took it to your room.”
Without waiting for me to respond, she went off to get it, and I gave Jason a quizzical glance. “You got me a gift?”
He looked uncomfortable, setting the tripod to one side as he shrugged. “It’s nothing, really.”
Amy reappeared with a gift-wrapped package. She gave it to me and I looked from the box to Jason, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. What had he gotten me that he was so embarrassed about? Why had he gotten me anything at all?
I started to peel off the wrapper.
Jason straightened. “I guess I’m done here,” he said, smoothing his hair. He gave Amy a kiss on her cheek, nodded in my direction, and started for the door.
“At least wait until she unwraps it,” Amy chided.
I felt his reluctance even as I pulled off the last of the paper to reveal the colorful hand-painted map it contained. Each location on it was beautifully drawn and labeled, from Northanger Abbey to Wuthering Heights, Milton, Manderley, Thornfield, Pemberley, and so on.
“It’s just a map of locations of—”
“Some of the greatest works of English literature.” I gazed at the intricate map, the washes of color and vibrant flowers, and then smiled at Jason. “Romantic literature anyway.”
“It’s pretty,” Amy said approvingly.
“Thank you,” I murmured, still looking at Jason.
“It was nothing,” he repeated, looking somewhat defensive. “I saw it at a sale and thought you might like it.”
It wasn’t nothing, not to me. “Thank you, anyway.”
“Where would you like to hang it?” Amy asked. “I might not be good at assembling complicated collapsible tripods, but I’m a pro at putting up frames.”
I barely heard her voice. Jason was still looking at me, and it felt like she wasn’t even in the room with us. I appreciated how personal the gift felt, like it came from someone who had taken the time to get to know me. I wanted it in my room.
Amy’s phone chirped, and as she pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen, her face lit up. “Colin’s meeting ended early!” she announced with a grin. “He’s downstairs, and I’m going out.” Her tiny purse was on the kitchen counter, and she snatched it up. “See you guys.”
“Amy?” I laughed. “Hello? What about my painting?”
“Put up ya own damn frame,” she growled, and then she laughed. “Jason will help you,” she added apologetically. “Or I’ll do it when I get back.” With that, she was out the door.
Jason took a deep breath then started to laugh. “Wow!”
“I know, right?” Sometimes Amy was a whirlwind, sometimes a gentle breeze, and all of it made her the sweet person she was.
I was still holding the painting. “Let me help you with that,” Jason said.
I handed it to him, choosing not to think of all the things I’d rather have his help with…like the liquid ache between my legs that hadn’t gone away since that night at his parents’ house, an ache that only intensified the more time I spent around him.
“Where did you get it?” I asked, leading the way to my room.