Holding Hands
Bert shuffled through the contents of the basket, head almost bent inside. "We have some cake and tea and raspberry ice, o' course. A nice treat, I thought, considering the weather today is be-au-tiful."
"That's very kind of you, Bert," came the response.
Beaming, his head shot up, peering over his shoulder at the woman beside him. "Oh, well, it's nothing. Anything for you, Mary Poppins."
Mary was leaning back, hands propping her up as they pressed against the picnic blanket. Her face was turned toward the sky, eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the sun. It hardly seemed like the Mary Poppins she was known to be. Rather, she was the Mary that only Bert had the privilege of seeing.
A smile tugged at her lips as she heard his voice, a content sigh escaping. She peeked across, offering a grateful nod.
"You are always such a good host." She accepted the raspberry ice that he handed to her. "For once, you must let me treat you."
"No need!" he insisted, turning back to face her fully. Leaving the picnic basket forgotten. "You're the reason we're 'ere. I can't ask for more than that."
She leant across, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, one hand resting atop his. "Then accept my thanks."
Bert tried to dampen the pink shade that was rising in his cheeks, noticing how her hand remained on his, even when she sat back. "Consider it accepted…"
Mary laughed, light and airy. It seemed appropriate for the spring day; the sun a little brighter at the sound. They continued to sit together, enjoying the various treats he had brought with him, including the special gingerbread he had acquired from Mrs Corry. Neither felt the need to let go of the other's hand. So, there they stayed.
I feel meh about this, but it is what it is.