– Romeo and Juliet
‘Momma, did the Native Americans really cook turkey for the Pilgrims?’ Poppy frowned, colouring the page with her brown pen. ‘And where did they buy it from? Was there a Whole Foods at Plymouth Rock?’
Juliet was staring out of the window at the house on the other side of the yard. Was it only five hours since she’d been there? ‘I don’t know, honey,’ she said, not actually hearing Poppy’s question. ‘Maybe we should Google it.’
‘Nicole doesn’t like turkey. She says eating meat is cruel. She’s a vegetable.’
Juliet stifled a laugh. ‘You mean a vegetarian.’
Poppy frowned. ‘That’s what I said. Anyway, she thinks Daddy should be one too. He said maybe he’d try it out some time.’
‘He did?’
‘Yeah, and then when Grandpa cooked burgers on Friday night, Nicole and Daddy had vegetable ones.’
Juliet pulled her gaze from Ryan’s house, staring at her daughter. She waited for the pain to set in. Hearing about Thomas and his girlfriend was usually like a fist to her gut, but instead of feeling sick she felt … nothing.
It was disconcerting.
‘What about you, what did you eat?’ Juliet closed up the dishwasher and pressed the buttons. The machine began to whirr as it took in water.
‘Oh I had a burger, and a hot dog, too. Grandpa burnt the sausages, but it was still okay.’
‘Sounds delicious.’
Ryan’s back door opened, and he walked out onto the deck. He had his camera in his hands, and leaned on the railing while he aimed it at the trees behind the house. He was oblivious to her stare, concentrating hard on whatever it was he’d seen in the leafless branches. She watched as he took his photographs, his face serious, his arms flexing, his hair falling over his brow. There was something undeniably sexy about his absorption, and the way his camera seemed like an extension of him. Poppy continued to chatter at the table, her attention taken by her colouring book, and Juliet answered her without thinking, her eyes still trained on the beautiful man from the house next door.
In an agonisingly slow movement, he turned the lens from the tree, until it was pointing straight at her window. He reached out to adjust it, as if zooming in, and she felt herself freeze as she stared at him through the glass.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him smile, a soft curve of his lips that made her ache inside.
Ryan turned from his spot on his deck, and walked back through his back door and into his kitchen. She stood for a minute, hoping he’d come out again, and somehow they’d be able to communicate from a distance.
The next moment her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, staring at the screen absentmindedly.
You look beautiful in that dress, London.
Oh. Her hand fluttered to her chest. She could feel her heart hammering beneath her ribcage in response to his words. Black letters on a screen were no substitute for the real thing, but he was thinking about her, and that knowledge filled her with joy.
Still smiling, she quickly tapped out a reply.
What were you photographing?
It only took a moment for him to send a message back.
A red cardinal. It was hiding in the bare branches.
She thought again about his absorption, and how attractive it had been. For a moment she imagined herself travelling with him, watching him catalogue the beautiful scenery, the animals, the people. She bet it was something to see.
Can you send me the picture?
I took it with my SLR. I’ll develop an extra print for you.
Another thing that enticed her. His love of the whole process of photography. Though he’d told her he mostly used his digital camera when he was on a job, she knew from his description that it was his old-fashioned camera he loved best.
Thank you. BTW I miss you.
I miss you, too. I keep fantasising about