The next morning, I wake up to cook breakfast. I go through two undercooked omelets and an over-boiled pot of tea until I wake up. Erg.
I’m shocked when Uncle Henry comes down.
“Morning Violet” he yawns. I whip around.
“What are you doing up so early? You’re a man! Men sleep into the afternoon, don’t they?”
“I smelled breakfast, so I came down. Otherwise, you’re right” Henry chuckles. He looks very good, even first thing in the morning. He hasn’t shaven yet, and it looks kind of hot on him. Unfortunately, he has a shirt on. BUT I can see toned muscles underneath! Smiling at me (the most beautiful smile in the word), he heads towards the door to get the morning paper. I never expected a young person like him to actually read a hardcopy newspaper. Everyone reads it online nowadays, right?
“You’re so old-fashioned” I tell him fondly. What is with my growing affection for this man?
“Couldn’t you already tell from my house?” he jokes, settling himself on the table. I feel like I’m on an old serial, the wife cooking breakfast with the man reading the paper. The picuture will be complete with a steaming cup of tea in front of him.
“Any interesting news?” I ask, adding in the tea powder to my hot water. Standing on my toes, I get plates on the second to top shelf of the cabinet and crack up. “You have granny plates!”
“What?” he looks up, confused.
“Flower patterned plates? Holy sh*t, Uncle Henry, you’re adorable” I giggle, folding an omelet on each plate and buttered toast. My heart thuds at my words. I called him adorable!
As I bring over his plate, I see him blushing. Honestly, this man!
“Do you just happen to love being a granny character?” I continue.
“It’s just such a cozy, warm feeling, the house and the plates and all—thank you---And I understand it’s funny. Leon used to beat me up over it”
I pour our tea and sit opposite of him on the table. Early morning light pours angelically, lighting up the quaint kitchen.
“I think it’s brilliant, actually” I admit.
“Thank you!” He sips his tea loudly, making a ‘mmm’ sound. Yes! He likes my tea! “Have your parents talked to you about Rwanda?”
“Dad sent me texts on my phone last night. Him and Mum are really touched my locals and their stories. They’re really enjoying the trip” I inform him. He nods.
“I would’ve never thought Tom to be that kind of guy” Henry muses, “He was always the cooler older brother that was untouchable. He still is…does he ever tell you why he doesn’t like me?”
“No he didn’t…why?”
“I’m assuming it’s because Dad was more…affectionate towards me?” Henry has a sad look glazing his dark eyes, “But I mean, as the younger child, isn’t that normal? After being an only child for so long, I guess Tom resents my existense!”
“Don’t be too hard of yourself” I comfort him. Am I bad person to be thinking about Bakewells and crumpets? Does Henry have British food here?
