Storm Shells

by G. J. Walker-Smith

I had no qualms about leaving New York. For the first time in a long time, I felt excited, hopeful and free.

  After checking my luggage and making my way to the departure lounge, I called Trieste to let her know my plans.

  “Finally,” she groaned. “I’m glad you’re not a complete loser.”

  “Thanks,” I said sincerely. “I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

  “No, you won’t,” she shot back. “But that’s alright. That’s how I’ll know you’re doing okay.”

  “You’re wonderful, Trieste. I might not have told you that before.”

  “No, you haven’t – because you’re a dick. But I forgive you.”

  I rushed out a bray of relieved laughter. “Thank you.”

  The phone call was short and worthwhile, much like our friendship. I owed Trieste Kincaid a huge debt of gratitude. I doubt I would’ve made it through the past few months without her. She’d pulled me from the wreckage of my life and done her level best to keep me in line. I would never forget it.

  June 29

  Charli

  The weather was wicked. It was dark, windy and threatening rain at any second. I didn’t envy Ryan. I would’ve been terrified at the prospect of getting on a plane that morning, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He was back in New York mode – with a few minor adjustments.

  “If you need anything, call me,” he instructed, tossing his suitcase into the boot of the Mercedes. “And please don’t name her something stupid. I don’t want to hear that you’ve called her Periwinkle or Sugarplum.”

  I laughed but he was serious.

  “I’m glad you came, Ryan,” I said, winding my hair around my hand to stop it lashing my face.

  He finally smiled. “So am I,” he conceded. “Maybe you can visit us next time. The rest of the family will be thrilled to meet the mini Tink.”

  “We’ll see what happens,” I replied vaguely.

  “No matter what happens, she has family, Charli. We’re all family. Don’t ever forget that.”

  I’m sure he meant to sound encouraging, but I couldn’t help feeling slightly threatened as I remembered Nicole’s worst-case scenario.

  “You’d better go,” I said, taking a step back and looking at the sky. “You’ll miss your plane.”

  Ryan kissed both my cheeks. “Call him, Charli.”

  “I will.”

  I could tell he didn’t believe me but he let it go. “I’ll see you soon.”

  I stood on the driveway, watching until the silver Mercedes was out of sight. That was the moment I realised that he’d never presented me with his buy-out offer. Somehow, I didn’t think it mattered any more.

  June 29

  Adam

  I’m not a nervous flyer but I was so relieved when the plane touched down in Hobart that I could’ve kissed the ground. The weather had made for the hairiest landing I’d ever endured. I grabbed my luggage and made a run for the car rental desk, hoping to get to the Cove before the rain hit.

  I still wasn’t used to everything in the rental car being on the wrong side, but it was a little easier this time round; I suspected it was the same SUV I’d rented the last time I was here.

  I synced my phone with the Bluetooth, pulled out of the parking lot and tried calling Ryan. It went straight to voicemail, which was unusual. Ryan always picked up, even if just for the joy of hanging up on his caller a second later. Perhaps time in Pipers Cove had mellowed him.

  I was looking forward to seeing him. No doubt he’d be furious with me for leaving his restaurants unattended, but that would only last until he found out what a half-assed job I’d done while I was there.

  I was looking forward to seeing Charlotte even more.

  I had no idea what sort of reception I’d receive. I knew that proving I’d changed my ways was going to be a hard sell. But it was important that she knew I’d finally woken up to myself. All I could do was hope she’d believe me.

  I got within twenty kilometres of town just after ten o’clock. Already out of whack from the change in time zones, I found the strange weather was playing tricks on my mind. The gloomy sky made it seem much later in the day. Just staying on the road took effort. The wild wind thrashed the car, and the trees beside the road were bending at impossible angles. I felt the full ton weight of the black sky. I’d never seen weather like it.

  When my phone rang a short while later, I assumed it was Ryan calling me back. I hit the answer button on the steering wheel.

  “Not even picking up the phone, you dick?“

  “Adam?”

  I wanted to fade away at the sound of Charli’s voice.

  “Charli,” I choked. “I’m sorry. I thought you were Ryan returning my call.”

  “It’s okay,” she replied. “He might not call back for a few days. He’s travelling. He left this morning.”

  “Oh.”

  I’d probably passed him on the highway. I felt disappointed that I’d missed him – until Charli spoke again and I forgot I had a brother.

  “I was hoping we could talk for a minute.”

  Just hearing her voice filled me with joy. Having her tell me that she wanted to talk catapulted me to the point of rapture.

  I played it cool. “Sure.”

  “I know things haven’t been great between us for a while but –”

  “Charli, listen.” I cut her off. I didn’t want to go over old ground. I wanted to run in a completely new direction for a change. “I love you. No matter what, you must know that.”

  “It’s getting harder to believe since you tried divorcing me,” she replied, sounding a little shaky.

  I couldn’t help smiling. “You’re a difficult woman to divorce, Charlotte Décarie.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t go down without a fight.”

  I couldn’t pick the emotion in her voice. Her words were casual, yet she sounded stressed out. I didn’t know what to make of it.

  “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “I’ve made some terrible choices lately, Charli,” I admitted. “I pushed you into going along with them. I’m not even going to say sorry because it wouldn’t hold any meaning, would it? You’ve heard it from me too often.”

  “So what are you saying then?” she asked.

  I worked hard to think quickly. An apology was hard to articulate now the word ‘sorry’ was off the table.

  “I regret everything, Charlotte,” I confessed. “If I could turn back time, things would be different right now. There’d be a baby on the way for us. No divorce, no doubts, no selfishness. Just plenty of foraging for rocks.”

  Mentioning the baby was insensitive and idiotic. I’d inadvertently delivered the kick in the head I was trying to avoid. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel, cursing my stupid mouth as the sound of her crying filtered through the car.

  “Don’t cry, please,” I begged.

  “I’m okay,” she sniffed. “Talk to me about something else for a minute.”

  It was a strange request, but if it meant she’d stay on the line I was happy.

  I slowed the car and looked to my left. The first glimpses of the Cove showed just how nasty the weather was. Massive black clouds swirled in from the sea like toxic smoke.

  “There’s a storm coming,” I said. “A big one, I think.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Here too. I’m watching it roll in. The sky is so dark and the windows are rattling. What does yours look like?”

  “It’s the same sky, Charli. I’m watching it come in over the Cove too.”

  “What?” she gasped. “Where are you?”

  “About two minutes away from you.”

  “You’re here? Who called you?”

  “No one. Why would anyone call me?”

  She started sobbing again, louder than before. I had no idea how to calm her. I wasn’t even sure what had upset her in the first place.

  “You have to tell me why you’re here.” She’d made it sound as if knowing m
eant the difference between life and death.

  “For you, Coccinelle,” I said with reverence. “I finally worked it out. You said everything happens for a reason, right?”

  Her breath caught as she sucked in a sharp sniff. I took it as a yes.

  “I’m looking at things with fresh eyes. It took me months to get to this point. I’m done trying to make my plans work for me. I want to make better ones. I don’t care what they are, just as long as you’re part of them.”

  I turned into her street at a slow crawl, which was odd considering I was desperate to get to her. “Are you still there?”

  “I’m here,” she said quietly. “Where are you?”

  “I’m on the driveway.” I turned off the ignition.

  I sat for a moment, staring at the little white car she’d been renting since Christmas. I was already making plans in my head. As far as I was concerned, we were done with temporary arrangements. No more renting cars and squatting in other people’s houses. We were going to lay down roots and be normal – at least as normal as any couple in La La Land could be.

  “Do you believe in second chances, Adam?” asked Charli.

  I smiled at the question, took the phone off speaker and held it to my ear.

  “Deuxiémes chances? I wish I someone would throw a few my way, yes.”

  “What would you do with them?”

  I got out of the car and fought the wind all the way up to the house, stopping half way to shove back a bush that had blown across the path.

  “I’d go back to January and be brave enough see things through.”

  “I’m really glad you said that,” she whispered.

  I stepped onto the veranda and made my way to the door. “Why, Charlotte?”

  Just as I made a grab for the handle, the door swung open. Charli stood in front of me, holding her phone to her ear. “Because my waters have just broken.”

  JUNE 29

  Charli

  Adam’s phone hit the deck. Then Adam hit the deck, dropping to his knees as if he’d just been hobbled. I let him fall apart. It was the least I could do.

  “Are you okay?” I finally asked.

  He sort of nodded, which gave me hope he wasn’t comatose. Adam reached forward and lifted my shirt. I could feel his confusion as he stared at my stomach. After a long moment, his hands gripped my hips and his head fell forward. I ran my fingers through his hair while he rested his cheek on my belly. I usually hate people touching my stomach, but considering he put her there, and they were meeting for the first time, I let him have that moment too.

  All I could hear was the howling wind and the rattling of the dodgy old windows. I wasn’t in any pain, nor was I feeling panicked or hurried. All I could feel was Adam’s relief and total calm.

  Finally, he stood, taking my face in his trembling hands.

  “I want you to know,” he struggled to get the words out, “I –”

  “Shush.” I cut him off. “There’s nothing I need to hear right now.”

  I wasn’t up to listening. And despite the fact I had a million things to say, I wasn’t up to talking either. I kissed him instead, covering all bases. It was a welcome-back and a glad-you-came-to-your-senses and an apology all rolled into one. I considered it a brave move on my part. I had no idea how he’d react, but when I felt his body relax against mine I knew that for now, it was enough.

  Feeling the first twinge in my belly, I broke free. “Can you get something for me?”

  He swiped his hands down his face, pulling himself together. “Anything. What do you need?”

  “A shovel.”

  He looked at me quizzically and put his hand to my forehead. It was a familiar gesture that I’d missed terribly. Checking for a temperature was common practice when crazy kicked in.

  “There’s one in the garage,” I added.

  “I’m fairly sure you’re not going to need a shovel, Charli,” he said, sounding more like himself. “And if you do, the hospital probably has one of their own.”

  He spotted my overnight bag on the floor and leaned down to pick it up.

  “Please, Adam. Just work with me here.”

  He slung the bag over his shoulder and reached for my hand. “I am going to work with you for the rest of my life.”

  “I appreciate that. Now get me a shovel.”

  * * *

  Adam dutifully loaded my bag, the shovel and me into his car. Once we were on the road, I laid out my plan.

  “We have to stop at Alex’s house.”

  “Can’t we just call him?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think they’re home anyway. I just need to pick something up.”

  Adam took his eyes off the road for longer than he should have, but didn’t question me. He was outwardly calm. The only hint that we were in a hurry was the fact that we got to Alex’s in record time. He jumped out of the car and ran to open my door.

  “Do you have your key?”

  “We don’t need to go in. Grab the shovel.”

  “We’re digging?” He sounded appalled.

  “Don’t sound so surprised, Adam. What else would we need a shovel for?”

  “We’re digging?” he repeated.

  “You’re digging,” I clarified, patting his chest. “I might sit this one out if that’s okay.”

  I’d spent fifteen years debating how to spend the box of wishes that I’d buried. I’d come close to digging it up a couple of times, but always managed to talk myself out of it. Today seemed like the perfect day to unearth it – if only I could remember where it was buried.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell Adam that I wasn’t exactly sure where it was, but after digging the third hole and coming up empty, I think he cottoned on.

  “This is ridiculous,” he complained, sounding more worried than irate.

  “Please. Try there.” I pointed to his left, in between two geranium bushes.

  “Last hole,” he warned, looking up at the angry sky. “The baby’s coming, the rain’s coming, and this is getting us nowhere.”

  “Let me call Alex.” I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and swiped the screen. “Please pick up, please pick up,” I whispered, walking back to the car.

  “Charlotte Blake,” crooned my father after the third ring. “What can I do for you today?”

  I cut to the chase. “Alex, where’s my box buried?”

  “The box of wishes?”

  He knew exactly what I was talking about, which proved something I’d known for a very long time. My dad was all shades of awesome.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re digging it up today? I would’ve liked to have been there for that.” He actually sounded disappointed. “What’s the occasion?”

  “I’m having a baby today.”

  I probably should’ve worded it better. Alex freaked out. I couldn’t make much sense of the orders he was barking at me because my focus was on Adam, who’d just dug up my box.

  “Is this it?” he called, holding up a dirty parcel wrapped in plastic.

  I nodded, moving the phone away from my ear to dull the sound of my father’s rant.

  “Alex, listen,” I urged, putting the phone back to my ear.

  “No, you listen. Where are you, my house or yours? I’ll come and get you.”

  “No need,” I replied, watching Adam walk toward me, box in hand. “Adam is here. He just found my box.”

  “Oh,” he replied, instantly mollified. “Good. That’s good news. You won’t need me then.”

  “I’m always going to need you, Dad,” I promised. “Just not at this very minute.”

  “I love you, Charli,” he told me. “Good luck with your chicken.”

  I ended the call as Adam reached me. Just as he handed me the box, a whole world of pain raged through me. He somehow managed to catch me and the box as I doubled over.

  “Please, please, please can we go now?” he begged, opening the car door. “Sit.”

  I shook my head, fobbing him
off. I didn’t want to sit. I didn’t want to stand either. I had no clue what I wanted to do, but thankfully the pain passed and I didn’t have to decide. I turned my attention back to the box, taking it from Adam and tearing the wrapping off.

  He was curious enough to wait, but indignation set in the second I lifted the broken lid. “Shells and toys?” His voice was calm but frustration was evident. “Charli, I’ve just spent twenty minutes digging up shells and toys?”

  I closed the broken lid as best I could. “Every wish I saved until I was five is in this box. I might need them today.”

  He stared at me, nervously chewing his bottom lip while he thought it through. “Okay,” he said finally. “Can we go now, please?”

  “Finally,” I huffed cheekily. “I’ve been waiting on you for a really long time.”

  June 29

  Adam

  We were half way to Hobart when the next contraction hit. The rain started at the same time, which meant I had no choice but to slow down. It was a manoeuvre that didn’t impress Charli.

  “Let me drive,” she growled through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I told her, reaching over to put my hand on her stomach.

  She slapped me away. “Don’t touch me. You can’t ever touch me. Never, ever, ever.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, holding my hand up in surrender. “I’ll keep a safe distance.” I glanced across. She’d tightened her grip on the box in her lap.

  “Tell me about the box, Charli.” It was a desperate attempt to take her mind off the pain. “Tell me about the stuff in it.”

  She flipped the lid open. “I don’t remember most of the things in here. Just the shells.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  Her explanation was understandably short and fractured but I managed to piece together the gist. Every ounce of faith Charli possessed was contained in a broken wooden box. I didn’t necessarily believe in it, but I understood.

  “So each shell represents two wishes?” She nodded, pursing her lips as she blew out a hard breath. I glanced into the box. “You’re loaded, Charli. Totally wish rich.”

  She managed a laugh and her breathing evened out. “I’ll share them with you,” she offered.