Restoration Hearts

by Kiera Jayne

  The guys each took one of the salmon, cream cheese, and dill bruschetta pieces.

  “Oh, God. This is fantastic. Can your chef friend live here with us and make all our meals?” Vaughn asked.

  “That might be a bit difficult,” Perie responded.

  Vaughn chuckled. “Move her family in here, too, if she has one. She can cook for all of us.”

  “That’s actually beside the point.”

  Flynn frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Shall we sit?” Perie quickly dashed over to the table and pulled out their chairs before sitting down in her own.

  Flynn shared a suspicious look with Vaughn before the two of them took their places.

  Perie saw the lack of food in their hands. Gee, had they inhaled the bruschetta? “Oh! You’ve finished your entrees. Perhaps I should serve the meal?”

  She started to launch herself out of her seat, but Flynn grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down again. He leaned forward, rested his arms on the table, and pinned her with a worried look. “What’s going on?”

  Her nervous eyes flitted from Flynn to Vaughn, who was studying her with his signature calmness. Flynn swore Vaughn had the ability to see right into your soul—a talent he often put to good use . . . such as now.

  Vaughn leaned his chin on his hand. “What’s got you all up in knots, sweetheart?”

  Perie took a big swig of her wine, settled the glass on the table and took a deep breath. “I’ve sold the house.”

  Flynn’s brows knitted together. “Which house?”

  “This one.”

  “You’ve what?” Vaughn demanded.

  “I’ve sold the house and I’m moving to Granite Ridge permanently. I’m hoping—but not expecting—that you’ll both join me,” Perie said.

  Vaughn’s mouth dropped open. His frown was deep as he said, “If this is to do with me, Perie, then—”

  “It is to do with you. You’re not built for the city, Vaughn. Therapy or no therapy, you’re a lot happier in the country. Besides, I miss the place. I want to use that bathroom and sleep in that beautiful bedroom and cook in that kitchen. I feel like the place will be going to waste if I don’t move up there. It’s too beautiful not to make my permanent home.”

  “What about your business?” Vaughn asked.

  Perie shrugged. “I can run my business from anywhere. I’ve begun to expand into the country areas anyhow.”

  “If that’s what you want . . .” Vaughn said.

  “It’s not all about me. I don’t want to dishonor Denise’s memory by abandoning her house. She left me such an incredible gift. I think she knew I could make it beautiful again.” Perie fiddled with her wine glass. “I want both of you to want it as well.”

  “Funny you should mention it, Per. Because I’ve been looking into expanding my skill set,” Flynn put in.

  “How so?” Perie asked.

  “I’m going to learn how to make timber furniture. I’ve enrolled in classes up in Granite Ridge. There won’t be as much building work out there, so I have to be smart and expand my business.”

  “What about your house?” Perie asked.

  “I’ll rent it out.” Flynn shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal. But clearly it was to his companions.

  Vaughn’s laugh was one of joy. His face was alight with it. “I fucking love you two.”

  Excitement lit up Perie’s hazel eyes. “We’re doing this, then?”

  The three of them took each other’s hands.

  “It’s safe to say we are,” Flynn agreed. “It’s time to go home, don’t you think?”

  HOME.

  It was here all along.

  The place they’d run from as quickly as they could as teenagers was where they were supposed to be in the long run. Building a life together in a home they had rebuilt together, where they could create memories, grow old, and possibly start a family.

  Perie checked herself in the mirror and smoothed down her skin fitting, square-necked dress with multi-coloured feathers printed all over it. She took a deep breath. A soft knock sounded on Perie’s bedroom door. She turned as Flynn poked his head inside.

  “Hey, Per. We’re about ready out there.”

  “Does this look okay? I know it’s not funeral standard to wear colours, but Denise loved colourful things . . . so I think it suits.”

  Flynn tucked his hands inside the pockets of his dark trousers and moved over to her. “You look beautiful, hotness. You always do.”

  Perie slipped her arms around Flynn’s neck. She sighed contentedly when he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He took her hand and they made their way through the hallway painted the same latte colour as the rest of the house. The sound of Perie’s black heels were muted against the grey hallway runner. She picked up Denise’s ashes from the mantle of the fireplace in the open-plan kitchen and family room. Hugging the urn to her side, she took Flynn’s outstretched hand and the pair made their way down the back stairs.

  That was where Vaughn was waiting for them. He looked handsome in his formal army uniform, complete with the upturned hat that sported an emu feather in its brim. He greeted both of them with a kiss, then looked down at Perie. “Let’s do this.”

  Flynn gave up Perie’s hand so she could link it through the crook of Vaughn’s arm. They walked to the new patch of garden where Vaughn had laid out a shovel and two plants.

  “Here we are, then. Time to say goodbye, I guess.” Perie glanced down at the urn in her arm and tightened her grip. She felt Flynn’s hand squeeze her shoulder.

  “Not goodbye. See you soon,” Vaughn corrected her.

  Perie managed to smile and she pressed her face to Vaughn’s arm.

  “Who’s going first?” Flynn asked.

  Vaughn glanced down at their woman. “Perie?”

  With a deep breath, Perie stepped towards the first hole Flynn had dug. She held the urn up in front of her face. “I brought you back home, Aunty Denise. I feel like you belong here as much as we all do.” She opened the urn and gently poured Denise’s ashes into the hole. Flynn and Vaughn squatted beside her. Flynn pulled the Shasta daisy plant from its pot and handed it to Perie, who set it into the hole. Together, the three of them pulled the clumps of dirt around the plant. They followed by planting a rosemary plant beside it.

  They then returned to their original spots and Vaughn dug a medal out of his pocket. “To my best mate, Terry, who protected and served his country and made the ultimate sacrifice.” Vaughn set the medal on the ground underneath the new rosemary plant. Then he stood ramrod straight and saluted.

  The Last Post sounded out suddenly. Perie glanced at Flynn’s phone and was amazed to see the music playing out from his music app. What a thoughtful touch.

  A single tear rolled down Vaughn’s cheek, but he didn’t budge until the music had ended. “Thank you, Flynn,” he whispered.

  “That was beautiful.”

  The trio turned around in surprise to see Perie’s father make his way across the back lawn to them, dressed haphazardly in a wrinkly old suit that looked like it was from the 1970s.

  Jack stopped a few feet away. “Sorry I’m late. I thought I’d come and pay my respects to my sister-in-law.”

  “How did you even know to come?” Flynn asked.

  “I messaged him a few days ago,” Perie answered even as Jack pointed to her. “I didn’t think you would make it, Dad.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what had happened during my last visit. About what Flynn said to me.” His crinkled eyes bored into Flynn’s. “You were right, boy. I don’t spend enough time with my daughter. I don’t know her at all, and I should. I’m not used to staying put for too long, you know that, but if you’ll have me for a week, Miss P, I’d like to stay and get to know you and your men.”

  Perie’s gaze softened and she went to embrace her father. “Oh, Dad. You’re welcome any time!” She pulled back and rested her hands on his bony shoulders. “I wa
s about to start making lunch. Would you like to help me?”

  “Lead the way.”

  “Ah, Per? I was thinking of inviting a couple more people. Is that okay with you?” Flynn queried as he waved his phone in the air.

  With a nod, Perie said, “The more, the merrier. Come on, Dad.”

  The Miller pair headed to the house as Flynn dialled a number on his phone.

  “Who are you inviting?” Vaughn asked.

  Flynn pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s ringing.”

  ***

  Perie carried some platters of food down to the table that was set up underneath the bottlebrush tree.

  “Oh, look at this!” Brooke exclaimed happily.

  “Looks delicious.” Chris dug into the salt and pepper grilled prawns.

  Jack reached for the mango and almond salad. “I’ll second that notion.”

  “Says the man who helped make it. Tooting your own horn there, hey, Jack?” Flynn teased the old man.

  “A man has to be proud of his work,” Jack insisted.

  Dave nodded his agreement as he munched on a paprika-covered baked potato cube. “Jack, you’re a wise man indeed.”

  Perie scooped Rocket into her arms. She was beginning to enjoy cooking for the people she loved now that she had more time on her hands. Living in the country reminded her of a slower-paced lifestyle and how good this kind of life could be. She now took weekends off and had a couple of employees in Toowoomba, Northern New South Wales, and back down the coast, who helped take the pressure off her expanding design business, leaving her more time to settle in with her men. She wasn’t doing too badly for a woman who was about to turn twenty-six soon.

  Flynn pulled Perie onto his lap. “She’s been having lessons from her chef friend.”

  “I’m proud of the progress I’ve made,” Perie confessed.

  “We’re proud of you, too, Miss P.” Jack held his beer towards her, then took a sip. “If you keep cooking stuff like this, I might stay longer than a week.”

  “You know I’d like that, Dad,” Perie told him.

  “We’re proud of all of you,” Brooke added. “Of your furniture business, Flynn, your garden business, Vaughn, and Perie’s interior design business expanding so rapidly. Not to mention this beautiful house you restored more or less by yourselves. You’ve all done so well.”

  Vaughn jiggled his leg. “I’ve still got issues to work through, but my monthly therapy visits have been working . . . and so has living out here.”

  “We all have things to work on, Vaughn. No one’s perfect, and those who pretend they are . . .? Well, they’re kidding themselves.” Chris glanced sheepishly at Flynn.

  Flynn nodded at his stepfather. The two of them had called a truce and were working on strengthening their relationship for Brooke’s sake and for the family’s.

  Silence fell over the gathering. Perie and her men glanced at each other.

  “Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to tell them,” Flynn said.

  “Are you sure?” Perie asked.

  “Why not?”

  “I agree with Flynn. Everyone’s here. One fell swoop, Perie-Berry,” Vaughn added as he held a small piece of prawn out to little Ziggy, who had become Vaughn’s Velcro dog, following him everywhere he went.

  “Alright.” Her hands shook with nervousness and she tightened her arms around her little greyhound. “We’ve decided to hold a promise ceremony to each other.”

  “What’s a promise ceremony?” Jack asked.

  “It’s like a wedding, except we can’t actually get legally married to each other, so . . . a promise ceremony, it is.” Flynn threw his hands up in surrender.

  “That sounds wonderful!” Brooke gushed. “When will you have it?”

  “On the anniversary of my mate’s death in four weeks’ time,” Vaughn said.

  Perie nodded. “We’ll pay our respects to him again and it will also become the anniversary of our lifelong commitment to each other.”

  “Megan’s going to come home for it, too,” Flynn told his mum.

  “Fantastic. You must let me help you plan!” Brooke said.

  Perie shook her head. “There won’t be much to plan. We don’t want a lot of fuss.”

  “Nonsense, this is your wedding!”

  “Promise ceremony,” Flynn reminded Brooke. “Mum, not everyone will be okay with this, so no blabbing it around town.”

  “If you think no one in town has already cottoned onto the nature of your relationship by now, you’re severely misguided,” Brooke scoffed.

  “We know they know. But it’s not in their faces, so they’re fine with it. Let’s not invite any undue pressure to ourselves,” Vaughn suggested.

  “Come on, Brooke. It’s their day, let them have what they want,” Chris chastised her gently.

  Brooke twisted up her mouth. “Well, alright, then.”

  “I’ll happily provide the wine,” Chris added with a wink.

  “Thanks,” Flynn said.

  JoJo rested his little head on Flynn’s foot and closed his eyes until a familiar voice hollered into the air. Jojo, Ziggy, and Rocket were all on their feet in an instant, barking and racing towards the newcomers.

  “Did I hear something about a wedding?”

  Perie gasped when she saw her mother walk across the backyard towards them. Her brown hair was shorter than Perie’s and was styled into a fashionable bob and her skin was paler than normal—an obvious result of living for so long in the UK. Behind her was a handsome older man with salt and pepper hair. A very handsome man.

  “No wonder she stayed in England,” Flynn hissed.

  Perie turned to him and noticed him noticing her mum’s man. “Flynn!”

  “What? It’s true. Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”

  “I noticed,” Vaughn whispered, earning himself a light whack on the arm from Perie.

  Her mum turned her identical hazel gaze onto her daughter. “Perie? Don’t I get a hug?”

  She sounded English now, too. The accent had begun to creep into her voice.

  Tears welled in her eyes as Perie got to her feet and made her way around the table. Her smile was so huge, it threatened to tear her face in half. “Oh, Mum. Bloody hell, I’ve missed you.”

  Her mum pulled her into a warm embrace. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know. I should’ve visited sooner. I’m sorry.”

  Perie lifted her gaze to the man. “I understand.”

  “This is Roger.”

  Perie pulled out of her mother’s arms and took a tentative step towards the man. “G’day, Roger. Welcome to Granite Ridge.”

  “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  Perie opened her arms and with a surprised smile, Roger hugged her. She felt nothing but solid muscle underneath his casual linen suit.

  “G’day, Mary,” Flynn said. Perie hadn’t heard him or Vaughn approach the new visitors.

  “Oh, Flynn, look at you, sweetheart. I can’t believe how good you look!” Mary gushed, giving his handsome face a motherly pat. “It’s about bloody time you and my daughter ended up together. And with Vaughn, too. Hi, there.”

  “Mrs. Miller,” Vaughn said with a nod.

  “Ah . . . Mrs. Ackers now actually. Roger and I just got married in Majorca last month.”

  “Mum, that’s wonderful!” Perie gushed.

  “Congratulations,” Flynn and Vaughn said.

  “Sir.” Vaughn shook Roger’s hand.

  “We’re sort of getting married, too,” Flynn said. “That’s what you overheard. Not a legally binding wedding, but—”

  “But it’s your wedding, all the same. It doesn’t matter if it’s not legal. It’s frustrating, of course. But all that’s important is you three. I always knew this was the way it was supposed to be.” Mary sent them a loving smile. “The divide wouldn’t have caused such pain if it wasn’t true love between the three of you. I’m so happy you found one another again.”

  Perie wrapped her arms around
Vaughn’s body. He held her close and looped his other arm around Flynn’s shoulder. He tried to keep a hold of his composure when he felt Flynn cup his arse.

  “Care to join us for lunch?” Vaughn asked.

  “We’d love to,” Roger said with a smile.

  He and Mary made their way to the table and took up two spare seats. They quickly struck up a conversation with Jack and the other parents. Perie, Flynn, and Vaughn didn’t budge. They took time to cherish the sight in front of them.

  “Well, will you look at that? All of our parents are sitting at the same table and they’re getting along,” Flynn exclaimed.

  “My mum and your dad are missing,” Vaughn said sadly.

  Flynn kissed his cheek. “They’re here in spirit.”

  “Terry, too,” Perie added.

  Vaughn gazed down at Perie. “So is Denise.”

  A small, sad smile touched Perie’s face as she glanced over at the brand-new memorial garden.

  “Oi! Are you three joining us or are you going to stand there like stunned mullets?”

  Vaughn rolled his eyes. Dave certainly never minced his words. “Coming, Dad.”

  Perie stifled a laugh. There was only one place that could make someone laugh at the ridiculousness of someone you loved. One place where no one would take offence at such mocking. One place where everyone was welcome, no matter what had transpired in the years’ past, where hearts came to be restored.

  That place was called home.

  The End

  Kiera Jayne writes love stories full of humour, fun, empowerment and angst. Her characters range from shy to sassy, troubled to flirty and everything in between.

  Her influences include G.J. Walker-Smith, Cassandra Clare and Olivia Cunning.

  She is an animal lover with wanderlust in her heart and a passion for music, history, the Aussie bush and epic television dramas. Not to mention an obsession with all things pertaining to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who & Marvel.

  Kiera's Brisbane home is filled to the brim with books covering a vast variety of genres.

  Thank you so much for reading!