Mint and apricots

60. Epilogue

- Saturday, 2nd October 2010 -

That morning, it was the scent of autumn that took Sam away from his dreams.

The October breeze that was travelling through the two rows of trees along the little busy road of Salisbury Willows blew easily beyond the half-open window of the bedroom, surprising him laying down on his stomach in the bed and wearing nothing, as if summer hadn't said goodbye yet. Deprived even of the meager protection that the light blanket that during the night had ended up at the foot of the bed could have guaranteed him, Sam woke up with a shiver, let out a moan and blindly obeyed the instinct that told him to stretch out an arm in search of another warm body to cuddle.

When he found nothing but wrinkly sheets and an abandoned pillow, he let out a much more convinced groan of protest. Then he opened his eyelids, made sure he hadn't missed his goal, and once it was clear there was no sign of Gabriel in the room, he sat up before stretching his arms above his head and yawning loudly. Then, after glancing at his smartphone and seeing that it was almost 8.30 in the morning, he went out into the corridor and headed for the bathroom.

When he recognized the sound of the stereo playing downstairs and smelled something that promised to be a cake in the oven, he hurried up. Not even five minutes later, he had washed his face, combed his hair with his hands – given that, much to Gabriel's astonishment and anger, most of the time he didn't even need a hairbrush – and put on a pair of clear boxers, running shorts and a simple, light T-shirt. His running shoes were downstairs, in the small shoe rack by the front door.

Sam considered himself lucky to be down in the kitchen when the stereo started playing June Hymn by the Decemberists, because Gabe was obsessed with that song. Which, of course, for an artist like him meant that he had taken it upon himself to learn to sing it perfectly. The season of sunshine was now over and the scent of wet leaves about to fall that was in the air that morning only confirmed it, but Sam and Gabriel had had a memorable summer and the youngest could never judge his boyfriend for wanting to hold onto the last traces of their first warm months together, even if only by singing a romantic hymn to the lightness that had accompanied their days.

So he moved slowly, both going down the stairs and as he crossed the living room to the spot behind the kitchen counter where Gabriel seemed to be stuffing and rolling his famous sweet tortillas with bananas and caramel sauce. Sam loved watching him cook, almost as much as he loved listening to him sing. Though he was sure that Gabriel had heard him and knew perfectly well that he was approaching.

"Here's a hymn to welcome in the daaay. Heralding a summer's early sway, and all the bulbs are coming in. To begin. The thrushes' bleeding battle with the wrens disrupts my reverie again. Pegging clothing on the line. Training jasmine how to vine, up the arbor to your door. And more... oh" he broke off softly, when Sam slipped his arms around his waist and leaned against his back in the act of bending over to take a peek at the delicacies and to kiss his boyfriend on his almost smooth cheek. "Good morning, wonderful."

"Good morning to you too," Sam replied with his voice still hoarse from the sleep he had just left on the pillow, rocking slightly, with half-closed eyelids, and blowing the words into his boyfriend's ear to annoy his culinary perfectionism. "Why are you up so early on a Saturday morning? Summer nostalgia won't let you sleep?"

"Oh no, I slept like a baby," Gabriel reassured him, as he finished stacking the thirteen rolled tortillas on a plate with his right hand while his left played with the fingers that Sam kept on his stomach. "But I was craving to cook something good. I'm hungry."