The birthday boy is getting a nice, lazy lie in. I’ve called in a few favours so the other bats will cover his patrol and we’ll have all day and night to celebrate ;) I’m making French toast for brunch and I can’t keep Jason out of the kitchen long enough to stop him from trying to prep toppings. He keeps trying to take the knife from me because he thinks I’ll cut myself instead of the fruit again (it’s only happened once!) and I let him just so I can concentrate on flipping the bread back into the pan instead of onto the countertop. He doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve got two tickets to the movies in my purse for the afternoon showing at the little indie theatre, the kind where the ticket counter is the same as concession stand and there’s only one screen. We’ll get popcorn and M&Ms to share. After the credits roll, we’ll stop at the ice cream parlour on the way home and I’ll get some on his nose when I try to share a bite with him. He’ll joke about ruining our dinners and I’ll pinky promise not to tell. Today is just for the two of us, sunshine yellow and sweet. Dinner with his family later will be a little more complicated, but Alfred’s got my recipe for lemon pie to serve as dessert. My annotated copy of the Scarlet Pimpernel and a new whetstone sit wrapped at the back of our closet. I’ve saved his presents for later tonight, something to look forward to if the weight of his family becomes difficult to handle. And if I got a little something for me for his birthday, well he’ll enjoy unwrapping that gift all night.

This is my little Sunford mood board I’ve been working on:

It’s the kind of love that makes you ask each other if you had met before, in another life or dream perhaps. Trembling hands of a first love and the gentle ache of a last love.