Shadow Lily (Wishes)

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  Moments like this reminded me why I was determined to keep our relationship secret. Noah Holt was righteous and good. He was also caring, brilliant and gorgeous inside and out. I was none of those things, which meant we were hardly a match made in heaven. As far as I was concerned, keeping quiet was doing him a favour. I was giving him an out, and sooner or later he’d be grateful for it.

  ***

  Our journey into the great unknown came to an end at the most unlikely place imaginable – a petrol station in the middle of nowhere.

  “Do we need fuel?” I asked.

  “No,” replied Noah, unclicking his seatbelt. “We’re here for dinner.”

  At first, I thought he was joking, but then he got out of the car. I was in no hurry to move. As far as I was concerned, fast food from a servo made two-minute noodles seem like haute cuisine.

  “I’m sensing reluctance, Lil,” he said, opening my car door. “Or perhaps revulsion,” he amended. “Have you ever eaten here?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve never even stopped here for petrol.”

  There was no particular reason why. From what I could see, it was a perfectly fine establishment. The little independent station wasn’t blanketed in fluorescent lights and huge windows like it’s bigwig competitors. If not for the small forecourt and three bowsers at the front, the modest brick building could’ve passed as a house.

  “The food is wonderful,” Noah insisted, inching the car door wider. “As long as you have no aversion to chalkboard menus and bain-maries.”

  “Of course not,” I lied, stepping out of the car.

  “Glad to hear it.” He took my hand in his. “Because I’ve got ten bucks riding on this dinner.”

  His smug tone was a little premature. When we reached the door, the closed sign caught my attention. “Shut happens,” I read with a giggle. “That’s cute.”

  Noah cupped his hands to the window and peered inside.

  “We’ll come back another time,” I suggested, tugging on the back of his shirt.

  “The lights are on.”

  “But nobody’s home, Noah. Let’s go.”

  “Somebody’s always home.” He flashed me a roguish grin. “There’s a house at the back. Let’s knock on the door.” He was already walking away as he suggested it, and like a fool, I followed.

  “Please tell me you know the people who live here.” I skipped forward to stay close. “You’re cute and all, but I’m not going to jail for you.”

  “If you get arrested, I’ll use my ten bucks to bail you out.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I can’t be fairer than that.”

  “And they say chivalry is dead,” I muttered.

  Without warning, he spun around and took me in his arms, dipping me back so swiftly that I closed my eyes, bracing for the crack of my head hitting the pavement.

  It didn’t happen, and when I looked up and saw his perfect face, I knew I was probably safer than I’d ever been in my whole life.

  “I can be chivalrous,” he murmured, kissing me to prove it.

  I tightened my grip on his forearms. “Can we please go home?” I whispered.

  He dropped his head, chasing my lips. “I am home.”

  As if on cue, a light came on. Noah straightened up, righting me in the process. The door behind him opened, and the sense of wrongdoing that had been plaguing me since I got out of the car disappeared in an instant.

  The kindly looking lady in front of us didn’t look miffed to see us. She was beaming, and only had eyes for the bloke standing next to me. “Noah George Sebastian Holt,” she announced.

  “Hi Mum,” he greeted.

  Discontented with the kiss on the cheek he gave her, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Where have you been, my boy?”

  “Working.” He motioned to me with a dip of his head. “And romancing this pretty girl in my spare time.”

  She stepped toward me, extending her hand. “You must be Lily.”

  I was astounded that she knew who I was, but I still managed to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Holt.”

  She swatted the air between us. “Mrs Holt was my mother-in-law,” she told me. “You can call me Trina.”

  That’s where the formalities ended. With a wave of her hand, she ushered us inside and showed us through to the living room.

  The inside of the Holt’s house was as modest as the servo at the front. It was neat, homely and small. When Trina pointed at the couch, I followed her silent instruction and sat down. After shifting a few cushions and a stack of crossword puzzles, Noah sat beside me.

  Ordinarily, meeting his mother for the first time would’ve been hugely daunting, but I wasn’t feeling a skerrick of unease, mainly because Trina did all the talking.

  It was like taking a crash course on Noah without having to study, and as chagrined as he might’ve been by her never-ending anecdotes, I was grateful for the insight.

  Trina was very proud of her veterinarian son. The walls were lined with certificates and awards bearing his name, and she couldn’t talk about Noah without smiling. “He was forever bringing home strays,” she recalled. “Dogs, cats, you name it, he rescued it.” She slapped her hands down on her knees and let out a hearty chuckle. “But he was always picky about the girls he brought home.” She winked at me. “They had to be special to get his attention.”

  I’d been dating Noah for two short months. In that time, I’d been made to feel special a million times over, and if I could’ve verbalised that in a way that didn’t sound creepy, I would’ve told her so. Instead, I smiled.

  “Enough embarrassing stories, Mum,” complained Noah. “We came here for hot chips and burgers.”

  Trina slapped her knees again – a gesture that was fast becoming her signature move. “The kitchen closed at eight.”

  “Don’t make me look bad, Mum. Lily’s already having doubts about me,” he joked.

  Letting out another hearty chuckle, Trina caved and rose to her feet. “I have my doubts about you too,” she teased. “You don’t visit your mother often enough.”

  ***

  While Trina indulged her son by going next door and reopening her kitchen, Noah showed me around. We ended up in the backyard, and that’s when things got really interesting. As soon as I stepped outside, I got the eeriest feeling that we weren’t alone – and when I heard rustling coming from the tall tree near the patio, I was sure of it.

  I looked up, squinting into the mass of dark branches.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Noah.

  “There’s something in the tree,” I whispered, moving closer to him. “I can hear it.”

  Far from alarmed, he grinned. “What do you think it is?”

  “An elephant by the sound of it.”

  “Not quite.” His arm slipped around me. “Peafowls. There are three of them.”

  “Peacocks?” I asked confused.

  “Two peacocks,” he clarified. “The blokes are peacocks; the ladies are peahens.”

  “And the babies are called peachicks?”

  “No,” he corrected. “Peababies.”

  I might’ve believed him if he hadn’t ruined the lie by laughing.

  “Wise arse,” I chided, bumping his arm with my shoulder. “Why are they in the trees?”

  Noah looked skyward. “They roost up there,” he explained. “During the day, they hang out on the ground.”

  The darkness kept most of it hidden from view, but from what I could tell, Trina’s backyard was the perfect habitat for them. The low-lying bracken and bushes extended all the way to the fence.

  “How long have they been here?”

  “Well, Cyril has been here for over twenty years,” he replied. “I have a photo of him whooping it up at my tenth birthday party.”

  It may well have been the most magnificent story I’d ever heard, and it trumped Jasmine’s scary birthday clown beyond measure.

  I turned to Noah, trying not to look too awed. “Do you have any idea how interesting
you are?”

  “Some might consider it weird, Lil.”

  “No, I know weird, and believe me when I say you’re not it.” I stretched, linking my arms around his neck. “You’re not a city vet either.”

  “No?” He sounded disappointed. “I quite like that tag.”

  “You grew up with a peacock called Cyril, and you lived at a roadhouse,” I reminded him. “You’re a bigger country hick than I am.”

  “I actually left here when I was eleven,” he explained, slipping his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Six years of boarding school in Hobart, and then university.”

  I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Based on that information, we’ll continue to mock and ridicule you on a daily basis – only now it’ll be worse.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you just admitted to being a private school boy.”

  “Excellent.” His dark laugh travelled right through me. “Bring it on.”

  ***

  Before I even came close to finishing dinner, I had to concede that Noah had won the bet. After consuming a week’s worth of calories, I could barely move, and it was worth every mouthful.

  Trina didn’t hang around to hear the praise I wanted to rain on her. After serving us the best junk food in existence, she bowed out in favour of an early night.

  “I have to open up at four-thirty,” she explained. “There’s no rest for the wicked.”

  Noah stood up and hugged his mum. “Thank you for dinner,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, patting his chest. “Don’t wait until you’re hungry before visiting your old mum again.”

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  “And look after Lily,” she called from the hallway. “Girls are much better than stray animals.”

  I leaned across the table to whisper to him. “I like your mum very much.”

  “I do too,” he whispered back.

  Meeting Noah’s mother didn’t inspire me to return the favour. If anything, I was more determined than ever to keep him away from the clan of misfits that I called family, and in a moment of weakness, I told him so.

  “I’m sure I’d cope,” he assured me.

  I slowly shook my head, probably looking dire. “My mum is nothing like yours.”

  I’d given him enough information in the past few months for him to know that my family dynamics were less than ideal, and he’d seen the mayhem my sister was capable of firsthand.

  “I’m not making any demands, Lil,” he said quietly. “We have all the time in the world to get to know each other.”

  Keen to change the subject, I leaned back in my chair, feeling overly full and marginally sleepy. “I guess I owe you ten bucks.”

  “And I plan to collect on that debt,” he replied, dropping his paper napkin on the table. “Just as soon as I recover from dinner.”

  8. LOVELY AND THRILLED

  Charli

  After spending a week scouting for locations, Lily finally decided that the doggie photoshoot would take place at my gallery. Considering it was empty, I thought it was a good choice, but Adam had a few reservations.

  “What if the dogs make a mess?”

  “We’ll clean it up,” I assured him. “No big deal.”

  I hooked my camera bag over my shoulder and called out to Bridget. “Get your shoes on, baby. We’re leaving.”

  Adam took the heavy bag from me. “Promise you’ll take it easy today?”

  A few weeks ago, a request like that would never have crossed his lips, but things were different now. I was pregnant, and according to Adam, that made me fragile.

  “You worry too much.” I chastely kissed him. “But if you want to come down and check on me, I’ll be there for most of the day.”

  Chances were, I was going to need him there at some point anyway. Gabrielle’s canvas backdrops had been hung, and the props were in place, but we’d done it ourselves so none of it was likely to hold for long.

  Bridget rocketed down the hallway, waving a pink sneaker in each hand. “I’m ready now,” she squealed. “We should get out of here.”

  The urgency was all in her little mind, but I appreciated the enthusiasm, and so did Lily. When we met her at the gallery fifteen minutes later, Bridget rushed at her from the door.

  “It’s your happy, happy day today, Lil!” Her shrill little voice echoed through the entire building. “The dog photo day!”

  Lily scooped her up and hugged her. “How exciting,” she replied, lowering her to her feet.

  I wasn’t sure that excitement was the right sentiment, but I couldn’t deny that I was eager to make the day a success. Lily had a lot riding on it, and we’d worked tirelessly to pull it together.

  Gabrielle had worked her Parisienne butt off too, namely transforming the white canvas drop sheets into brilliant pieces of art. The grungy, urban paint job was graffiti-like in style, and it meshed with the wooden floor and whitewashed walls of the gallery seamlessly.

  “Like a New York loft apartment,” she told us. “Don’t you think?”

  I agreed, but Lily didn’t answer the question. Instead, she thanked her – for the millionth time that week.

  Gabrielle liked to feel appreciated as much as anyone else, but this was overkill and it was starting to make her twitchy. She turned to Lily, putting both hands on her shoulders. “I have enjoyed this project immensely,” she said, giving her a shake. “And you have been a revelation.”

  Lily frowned, looking worried. “Why?”

  Gabrielle dropped her hands to her sides and let out a long sigh. “For years, I loathed sushi,” she began. “It’s raw, unrefined and unappealing.”

  Conversations with the Parisienne usually take some deciphering, but not even I knew what she was talking about. “You’ve lost us, Gabs.”

  She continued as if I hadn’t spoken, focusing only on Lily. “One day Alex made me try it.”

  “And?” Lily’s voice was tiny. “What happened?”

  “I loved it,” she replied, flashing her beauty queen grin. “You are like sushi, Lily Tate. After years of avoiding you, I tried you, and you’re wonderful.”

  The strange compliment hit Lily hard. Her blue eyes welled with tears. “Thank you,” she choked.

  I cocked my head, whispering from the corner of my mouth. “Lil, you realise she just compared you to raw fish, right?”

  “Shut up,” she mumbled, bumping me with her shoulder. “I like sushi.”

  ***

  Gabrielle’s vision stretched far beyond the set design. She’d also taken care of costuming, supplying one of her own gowns for Lily to wear during the shoot. The emerald green, floor-length silk number was elegant and glamourous – and in complete contrast to her grungy inner-city set.

  It was as left-of-centre as she was, but despite my reservations, it worked. The only person who wasn’t on board was Lily. After getting dressed, she shuffled out of the back room with a handful of dress in each hand, trying her best to keep it from dragging on the floor.

  “You look lovely,” praised Bridget, wildly clapping her hands. “Like a green frog.”

  “Thanks, Bridge,” she mumbled.

  Gabrielle agreed. “Almost a perfect fit,” she said, fussing with the neckline.

  Lily smoothed the front of the dress with both hands. “I’m not sure about this. I feel a bit overdressed.”

  Reverting to her old schoolmarm ways, Gabi slapped her hands away. “Nonsense,” she snapped. “You look perfect.”

  On the off chance that she was about to bust out another sushi lecture, I decided to escape while I could. “Let’s go, Bridge,” I said, reaching for her hand. “You can help me set the camera up.”

  Bridget abandoned her pile of girls on the floor and scrambled to her feet. “I will take some photos too.” She spoke as if it was a given. “I just love dog pictures.”

  ***

  Everything was good to go.

  The set was complete
, Lily’s stage fright was under control, and Gabi had slowed her bossy roll. After making a few last minute changes to her arty backdrop, she retired the cans of spray-paint and cleaned the paint off her hands. “My work here is done,” she announced, wringing her hands on a rag.

  “You’re leaving?” asked Lily incredulously.

  “She has to,” I said, answering for her. “She likes Alex too much to stay.”

  My father’s allergy to dogs was severe. If Gabi arrived home caked in dog hair, he’d be in an antihistamine haze for days.

  “I want to go home too,” Bridget chimed in. “I’ve had enough now.”

  Somewhere along the line, Bridget’s enthusiasm had given way to boredom. She’d been well behaved until that point, but cracks were beginning to show. As I wrenched a can of spray-paint from my daughter’s hand, I asked Gabi if she could hitch a ride with her.

  “Of course.” Gabrielle slung her big tote bag over her shoulder. “Jack will be thrilled to see her.”

  “Yes he will,” agreed Bridget, grabbing Gabi’s hand. “Lovely and thrilled.”

  ***

  Once Gabi and Bridget left, I was more than ready to get the show on the road, but one important element was missing. “What time are the pooches arriving?” I asked, checking the time on my watch.

  “Any minute now,” replied Lily. “Although I’m expecting Nancy to be late.”

  “Why?”

  She grimaced, looking pained. “Because Jasmine is bringing her.”

  I groaned, unable to hide my frustration. “That means she’s going to see what we’re doing here.”

  And letting her in on that secret meant our theatrics in the hardware store the week before had been a complete waste of effort.

  “Why would you tell her, Lil?” I growled.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” she defended. “It’s the only way she’d let me have Nancy for the day.”

  I wanted to scream at her and demand that she grow a backbone, but yelling would’ve done more harm than good. Jasmine had been getting the better of her for years, and until Lily could figure out how to break the sparkly cycle of abuse, it was going to continue.

  I swallowed hard, trying to quell the annoyance. “How many dogs are coming?” I asked calmly.