Page 63

Andrew pursed his lips to hold back another laugh.

“Just friendly chatter. Like I was doing for the other sessions.”

“I thought you just liked talking to people.”

Shaking his head, Andrew let out another laugh. He might have to prod Edwin once more with another playful remark, but the man quickly raked his hand through his hair and exited.

“Thank you for your patience. We’ll have the tintype ready to view shortly, and then you can come retrieve it in a few days’ time,” Andrew heard Edwin say through the door. “So, do you folks live in Albany?”

Letting out a breath of relief, Andrew set to work on finishing up. He tried to ignore the throbbing in his knee as he removed the iron plate from the holder. And then, he started on the next steps in the process—revealing and fixing the image. He’d varnish it later. By the time he was finished, much of the pain in his knee had subsided, though he still couldn’t wait to be off of it. He probably ought to be resting more so that he could heal quicker.

Andrew came out into the studio to find Edwin sitting on the floor with the boys, showing them what looked to be a coin trick. Andrew’s heart pitter-pattered, but he forced himself to ignore it so that he could show the Fitzpatricks the tintype.

Later, after the Fitzpatricks had gone, Andrew collapsed onto the sofa, and Edwin sat next to him. Leaning forward, Edwin rested his elbows on his thighs and married his hands together, forming a little steeple with his fingers. After only a couple of seconds or so, he sat up straighter and began bouncing one of his legs.

“Are you thinking of closing early? Because of your knee?” Edwin asked.

Andrew frowned. He hadn’t really thought about it, but perhaps he should. “Uhm, well—”

“Because I can try to handle everything myself now,” Edwin blurted out, blushing a bit. “If you want, that is. I know how to make negatives already. Obviously. And now I know how to create tintypes, too, at least in part. And I’m sure I’d manage welcoming future clients into the studio and talking to them about the options we have for posing and the prices and everything. I can show them out afterward as well. I mean, all of this standing, it can’t be good for your knee.”

“You really wouldn’t mind all of that?” Andrew asked.

Edwin shook his head sweetly. Andrew reached for Edwin’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said, squeezing it.

“Of course, Andrew,” Edwin said. “I’m happy to help.” He smiled wryly. “I do have one rule, though, which is that you are not allowed to laugh at me if I make a mistake. Even if it’s an egregious one.”

“Never,” Andrew said, smiling back.

Edwin raised Andrew’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

He then proceeded to set up one of the high-backed chairs—the one with the thickest, comfiest cushion—close the tripod before pulling over a footrest for Andrew as well. Gratitude swelled in Andrew’s chest as he hobbled over to it, the sensation even more intense than it had been before, and his entire body began to thrum with the most wonderful fondness as he settled down on the cushion.

How lucky he was to have found Edwin Beasley.

***

Andrew’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. Seeing Edwin’s confidence blossom, even if only slightly, over the course of a couple of hours had been so extremely wonderful. Resting his hand on his fist, his elbow propped up on the chair’s armrest, Andrew let out what had to have been the most pathetic, lovesick sigh to have ever been sighed as Edwin walked their final clients out of the studio. Edwin returned moments later looking exhausted but happy.

“Day one of running Thompson’s Photography Studio is finished,” he said as he walked over to Andrew. “Thank God.”

Andrew sat up straighter so that Edwin could settle on the armrest.

“You were fantastic,” Andrew said as Edwin sat.

“Really?” Edwin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Andrew nodded warmly, and Edwin smiled a bit.

“I know something like this shouldn’t be so monumental, but it is,” Edwin said. “For me, anyway. I’ve been keeping to myself for so long that I started to believe I’d never . . .” He trailed off and shook his head. “Anyway. All I’m trying to say is that this was nice. Really, really nice. I feel like it helped me even more than it helped you in some ways.”

Andrew placed a hand on Edwin’s knee.

“I’m happy to hear that, Edwin,” he said. “I still feel so stupid for hurting myself this badly. Without your help, I’d be stretching out my recovery into . . . infinity, maybe.” He wrinkled his nose. “I hate that I’m so clumsy.”

“I kind of like it,” Edwin said with a chuckle.