We turned back to our respective letters, eager to continue on with the stories. I let Grandpa Dougie from the way past help me forget that it was possible that Hamish was currently reading a world full of embarrassing stories from my past. The man had been buried for the better part of four years, and he was still finding ways to embarrass me in front of cute boys. That took some serious dedication on his part. Though, if anyone could, it didn’t surprise me it at all that it was grandpa Dougie.
We read through most of the morning. I didn’t even realize how long it had been until Hamish brought me a room service menu. “Get whatever you want, remember it’s my treat.”
“So, one of everything, huh?” I teased.
Hamish laughed and rolled his eyes. “Funny. You are a funny person, Fiona Carson. I’ll give you that much credit.”
“I’m also a fast reader. I’m going to finish my half of the letters well before you are.”
“Yeah, that I don’t doubt. Your grandfather really liked to write, didn’t he? There are a lot of pages here. We won’t finish today.”
I looked at the stacks in front of me. “You’re telling me.”
“So, what do you think? Should we go ahead and make plans for tomorrow?”
The part of my brain that read way too many romance novels was dying to scream yes. A beautiful, rich, foreign man showed up with a mission to complete. We spend all our days together and fall madly in love and then I am set for the rest of my life and my happily ever after.
But reality was more of a driving force than fantasy had ever been.
“I don’t know, Hamish. I have bills to pay. I have to find a real job so I can get a better apartment and become that ‘functional adult’ thing everyone keeps talking about.” I tried to give Hamish an honest smile, “As much as I would love to dedicate all my time and energy to a family history mystery, I’m just not sure I can justify it.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Hamish was suddenly very interested with his food service menu, “Of course. We’ll finish up today, and I’ll keep working tomorrow and you just give me a call whenever you’ve got time to spare.”
“Yeah.” And then for any topic change at all, I handed him back my menu. “I’ll just take the burger. And a coke.”
“Burger and a coke,” he repeated, “I’ll just go make the call,” and he moved quickly into the hall. I didn’t have the heart to ask him why he didn’t use the phone in the room.