When I woke up this morning it was dim and cool. Recent rain is still drying on the grass and I am told to dress warmly before leaving the house. He takes my hand and we make our way down to the beach, where he has stuck flowers in between all of the rocks, making a path to where we will have breakfast this morning, a thick plaid blanket weighed down with the smooth round stones that line the shore.
I ask if I can help but I am handed a mug full of champagne and am given a kiss before he assures me that he has this. That he's been up for hours (true).
He builds a fire and then puts on the coffee pot. He props a small rack down over the fire, beside the coffee pot and proceeds to fry up eggs and potatoes, bacon and tomatoes. He throws some toast on the rack beside the frying pan. It smells heavenly and my stomach roars right along with the ocean.
I know you're spending the day with Caleb but I wanted to make sure the weekend starts how I think you'd like it most. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. Lochlan smiles at me as he loads two plates, and asks if I'm done my champagne yet because he needs the mug for coffee. I drink the champagne in one go and hand the mug back and he fills it and returns it to me.
Best coffee I have ever had.
Best breakfast too.
When we finish eating he takes the plates and balances them on the edge of the fire before wrapping us together in a second blanket to watch the flames and the waves, like he used to do when we were young. It's just dim enough that the fire turns the beach to black and white, glowing orange before a teal sea.
Happy early birthday, Bridget. He kisses the top of my head. Wish I didn't have to give you to the devil for the day.