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“Nothing,” Edwin said with a shake of his head. “Never mind.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. If only he could read minds. But Edwin was never not intentional with his choices. And if Edwin wanted to keep the specifics of whatever he was thinking to himself, then there must have been a good reason for it.
Perhaps he ought to move onto another subject.
“Are you hungry?” Andrew asked.
“A little,” Edwin replied. “But I’m nervous about seeing your landlady now.”
“It’s late enough. Honestly, she’s probably asleep. Even if she isn’t, I promise she won’t be cruel, Edwin. Let’s put on some clothes and find a snack.”
“Well . . .”
“Please?”
Edwin sighed. “All right.”
Andrew lent Edwin one of his long nightshirts, and then they went downstairs to the kitchen, their path lit by the barely burning oil lamps in the hall. Once there, Andrew fumbled to find some matchsticks and a candle in a little hutch next to the front room. After he found and lit a candlestick, he and Edwin continued on into the kitchen. On the kitchen worktable, there was a note. Andrew and Edwin walked over to read it. Resting his chin on Edwin’s shoulder, Andrew first placed the candlestick on the worktable and then wrapped his arms around Edwin from behind, pulling him close.
“It says there’s oatmeal pie in the pie chest,” Edwin said. He turned his head to catch Andrew’s eye and smiled. “Logical place to keep it.”
Andrew smiled back. “I knew there’d be something for us.”
Edwin tapped each of Andrew’s hands, wordlessly instructing him to unhook them, and then Andrew walked over to the pie chest—a burgundy wooden cabinet that hung near the window. Upon opening it, the scent of cinnamon and roasted pecan wafted up his nose, making his mouth water. He took the pie out while Edwin found them some forks.
Andrew was so hungry that his rushing caused him to trip on the way to the worktable, but he thankfully caught himself before inadvertently throwing their meal across the room. Once Andrew steadied himself, he set the pie on the table and caught Edwin snickering.
“I love you,” Edwin said as he held a fork out for Andrew to take.
“Because I lack even the basic coordination required to walk fifteen feet without tripping?” Andrew asked, taking the fork from him.
“It’s strangely charming.”
Andrew shook his head, his cheeks warming. He certainly didn’t think such a thing could be charming, even a little, but he was happy Edwin thought so.
Just as Andrew and Edwin were about to start on the leftover pie, the floorboards creaked in the hallway. Andrew startled, and his fork clattered to the floor.
“Oh, Andrew,” Prudence chuckled. How embarrassing that she knew he’d been the one to have dropped the fork before even entering the kitchen. “It’s only me.”
By the time Andrew picked up his fork, Prudence was standing in the doorway, smiling at them both. Andrew’s eyes flitted over to Edwin, who was frozen in place, his body rigid.
“Edwin, it’s all right,” Andrew whispered. “Don’t worry.”
“Yes, it certainly is,” Prudence said. “I’m relieved to see that the two of you managed to patch things up. And, as Andrew just implied, I won’t be giving either of you any trouble. In fact, I’m happy for my sweet Andrew.”
Andrew watched Edwin’s lips curl into a reluctant-looking half smile. Even in the low light, Andrew could see that the man was blushing a bit.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Edwin said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Prudence nodded.
“It’s wise of you to stay over, young man,” she said. “The snow is starting to stick. I’d estimate that there must be two or three inches out there by now. I hope it lets up. Otherwise, there might even be six or more by morning. Of course, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need, regardless. Or even as long as you want, snow or no snow.”
Knowing that Edwin might still be feeling too uneasy to form a proper reply, Andrew cut in.
“That’s very kind of you, Prudence,” he said warmly.
“Oh, so, it’s Prudence now?” she said, her expression suddenly serious. She clicked her tongue a few times, tsking. “My, how quickly respect flies out the window these days.”
