Breakaways

by Lily Harlem

“I’m glad, really I am. And grateful.” Evan stared around the room, his attention lingering on a set of photographs hanging on the wall in the corner. Quickly, he tore his gaze away. “And I want it to be our home, get rid of all of this crap.”

  “We can keep what you want, get rid of what you don’t want.” Raul nodded. “But please, let me redesign the kitchen and pay for it, so I can feed our wife, my crew, and the children well at every meal.”

  Evan appeared worried. “Thanks, mate, but I’m not sure I can let you spend all that cash. It’s a big job, the place is a disaster.”

  “Of course you can.” Raul scowled. “The money is not an issue, and I need a good kitchen.”

  “Yeah, I know you do.” Evan paused. “Thanks then, for the kitchen.”

  “Don’t you see, Evan?” Harry said. “This is perfect for us.”

  “It is?” Evan raised his eyebrows.

  Olivia went to him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Yes, of course it is. Here we can be together, just us, no prying eyes to wonder why I have five husbands and four children.”

  He hugged her close. “But Harry’s place in Malibu would be better, wouldn’t it?”

  “The Malibu pad is nowhere near as big as this. I bought it just for me, it suited my then bachelor lifestyle.” Harry pointed to the ceiling. “This has got way more bedrooms, which we need, loads of outdoor play area for the kids, and most of all, as Olivia said, we don’t need to worry about paps here. We’ll have no intrusions on our privacy.” He pulled out his phone. “Though there is signal which I’m surprised about.”

  “Yeah, they put a mast on our land, out toward the town a few years ago.”

  Harry nodded. “And we’ll get Wi-Fi put in.”

  “Do we need that?” Lucas asked.

  “Of course.” Harry paused. “The kids will need it for homework, won’t they?”

  “What’s homework?” Darius asked.

  “You’ll soon find out.” Mason ruffled his hair.

  Olivia released Evan. “Perhaps we should look upstairs, help the children choose their bedrooms.”

  “I hope my mother has gotten rid of some of the junk Dad accumulated over the years. He wasn’t good at throwing anything out, as you can probably tell.”

  They trooped up the wide staircase, which led from a grand entrance hallway holding a huge grandfather clock.

  Amal and Darius ran ahead, sliding their palms along the length of banister that spanned the large upper landing. Several pictures hung on the wall. Their frames were thick, dusty, and all held portraits.

  “Who are these?” Olivia asked, studying an image of a man surrounded by sheep, wearing a wide hat and holding a crook.

  “That’s my grandfather,” Evan said. “On my father’s side.”

  “Did you know him?” Mason asked.

  “I remember him; he died when I was six, so a long time ago now.”

  “Can we have this room?” Amal stuck his head out of a doorway to the left.

  “Yeah sure.” Evan nodded.

  “Yay!” Amal ducked back in.

  “That’s the best room for the boys,” Evan said. “Unless you want it for a nursery, babe.”

  “Seems to me it’s been claimed.” She peered inside. There was a single bed and not much else.

  “Ah good, she has had a clear out.” Evan sounded relieved. “Couldn’t open this door last time I was here.”

  “We should get them bed bunks.” Raul stepped into the room. “My brother and I had them. Good for brothers.”

  “Bunk beds,” Olivia corrected and glanced out of the window. The view looked out over the barn and the big tree. “Yes, this is nice for Darius and Amal.”

  “And for you, Banna,” Evan said. “I think next door will be perfect. It’s the same size as this but has a pretty little window with a low sill. We can put cushions on it, and you can use it to sit and read.”

  “I would like that.” Banna slipped her hand into Evan’s. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for being here,” he said and led her out.

  “This is hard for him,” Raul said, when Evan was out of earshot. “I do not think he was very happy here.”

  “I agree,” Mason said. “But he’s putting on a brave face.”

  “Mmm.” Raul nodded. “He is, but I hope not too brave.”

  Olivia studied him. “What do you mean?”

  “If my mother had only wanted to see me for a minute, and had that line…” he paused and drew a line between his thick brows, “here, as if angry at the world, I would feel sad.”

  “I’ll speak to him later,” Olivia said. “When we’re alone. Make sure he’s okay.”

  “Si, you should do that, mi niña hermosa.”

  Banna’s room was devoid of anything but a bed. The walls were painted a sickly green, and a tiny sink and toilet stood in what was nothing more than a cupboard. But she was delighted with the window and the view and excited to finally have a room of her own. When Harry told her to start a list of everything she wanted in it, she raced downstairs to collect her pencils.

  On the opposite side of the staircase, which cut through the landing, were two huge bedrooms. Neither had beds in, but both had en suites. But the bathrooms were old with cracked flowery tiles and out-dated color schemes. A few frayed towels were set in one along with a putrid yellow bath mat.

  “Told you it was a seventies throwback,” Evan said, pulling up the door.

  Harry clasped his shoulder. “It’s a blank canvas, don’t worry about it. A day’s work.”

  Evan huffed. “You reckon.”

  “Would take me more than a day to do those bathrooms,” Lucas said.

  “You won’t be doing them.” Harry shrugged. “So don’t worry about it.”

  “This is the main bedroom.” Evan rested his fingers on the handle but didn’t open it.

  “You okay?” Olivia asked, touching his forearm.

  “Yeah, fine.” He opened the door and stepped in.

  It was an enormous room, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall, which made the most of the glorious view. The floorboards were exposed and a soft buttery shade of pale brown. A small double bed was pushed up against one wall; the sheet had faded pink roses on it. Apart from a wardrobe on skinny legs, the only other item of furniture was a dressing table, which had no chair to go with it. There was nothing on the surface.

  Evan pulled in a deep breath and clenched his teeth.

  “What is it?” Olivia asked.

  He swallowed. “I can smell his aftershave.” He pinched his nose and moved away.

  Olivia’s chest ached. Evan’s pain was her pain. She loved him so much. She reckoned he’d have been happy to have never come back to this house. But with all the others there, she didn’t want to press him to talk more about it. That would have to wait.

  “What’s through here?” Mason asked, nodding at a door to the right.

  “That’s another bathroom,” Evan said. “Big, but in as bad shape as the others.” He walked beyond the big windows. “But this…” A sparkle appeared in his eyes, and he grinned. “Would be perfect, I think, for a nursery. It’s the way the house was originally designed, this room off the parents’ room.”

  “So this was your nursery?” Olivia rushed to it, eager to see the room her baby would be sleeping in.

  “Er, no. Apparently I cried too much as a baby. I got put in the one Banna chose from my second day on this earth.”

  “All bairns cry.” Lucas shrugged. “How else do they let anyone know they’re hungry, tired, need changing?”

  “I agree.” Evan shrugged. “But I was born in this room.”

  “What?” Raul said. “At home?”

  “Yeah, it’s how it is around here.”

  “Wow.” Olivia looked about, seeing it anew. “To think you started life in here, in your home, that’s incredible.”

  He drew her into a hug. “What’s incredible is that you’re here, all of you, and our baby could be born
here, too.”

  “You think?” She hadn’t thought that far.

  He smiled. “Yeah, it’s an idea.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  After exploring the house, Harry set tasks of writing lists of everything they needed. Raul measured the kitchen with Lucas’s help, then gave the phone number of an Australian company he wanted to use for his kitchen. “As long as it has a six-hob gas stove, refrigerator and freezer, and a decent set of knives and pans, I will be happy. I know they will design it to maximum efficiency of movement.”

  “I’m on the case,” Harry said and went back to his list, which now spanned two large sheets of paper.

  Banna, Darius, and Amal were seated on the floor, planning their own bedrooms, though Amal kept getting distracted by a butterfly flying in and out of the open door.

  “We’re gonna need some air-conditioning units,” Mason said, wiping his brow on the back of his forearm. “When Olivia is as round as a barrel, this heat will be super uncomfortable for her.”

  “Hey, I will not be a barrel.” She mock slapped his shoulder.

  He grinned. “That’s what you think.”

  She frowned, and he tugged her close. “But I’ll still love you, hen, you know that.”

  “Mmm, I do.” She tipped her head for his kiss.

  Evan was in the corner of the living area staring at the photographs on the wall. After a moment, he pushed his hands through his hair and walked away. With his head bowed, he wandered into the kitchen, the door shutting behind him with a solid whack.

  “I’ll go and see if he’s okay,” Olivia said to Mason.

  “Aye, you should do that.”

  She left everyone in the living area and followed Evan. He was standing at the window looking out.

  “Hey,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  She hesitated. “Only I know this must be hard for you. Smelling his aftershave, seeing the photographs.”

  He was silent.

  “You can talk to me,” she said, stepping up to him and resting her palm on his right shoulder.

  “I know, babe, and I have told you some of it.”

  “Only some of it?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to carry all the images in your head around, the way I have to. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  “I’m strong, Evan, you know that.” She hesitated. “And a problem shared is a problem halved.”

  “It’s not a problem anymore. He’s dead.” There was anger in his tone. But it wasn’t directed at her, she knew that.

  “True, he is dead.” She worried on her bottom lip. Evan reminded her of a rocket about to launch. He was full of fizzy emotional energy that was highly combustible.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He drew in a shaky breath.

  “Evan. You can’t be angry at him forever.”

  “I can.”

  “But anger is like holding a hot coal and not throwing it—it’s only you that’s getting hurt.”

  He opened his eyes and turned to her. “I love you, babe, but I just can’t share all of this with you. It’s nasty, too nasty.”

  She felt her eyes tingle. The fact he’d gone through such a terrible time as a kid hurt the very core of her.

  “I need a minute,” he said. “Being here is weird, it’s getting to me.”

  “We don’t have to stay.”

  “We do. For my grandfather, and my grandfather before that.” He stroked the back of his index finger down her cheek. “I’ll be okay. I can work through it. I know I can. And then this will be the perfect place for us to raise a family.”

  He disappeared outside, and she stared at the space where he’d just been standing. For once she felt at a loss. What should she do? If he wouldn’t talk to her, face the demons in his memories, how could she help him?

  “Hey, Liv, you okay?” Harry wandered in and grabbed a tumbler from a shelf.

  “Yes, I am, but…”

  “But what?” He frowned and opened the refrigerator. “Damn, this is practically empty.”

  “But Evan isn’t okay.”

  “Evan.” He straightened and slammed the refrigerator door. “His father?”

  “Yes, but not what you think.”

  He set the tumbler down.

  Olivia turned to the window and watched Evan grip the railing surrounding the decking. He had his back to her, and he was stooped, his head hanging low. He looked so lost, so desolate. She wasn’t used to seeing her strong, capable husband like that and she hated his father all over again for being able to do this to his son from beyond the grave.

  “So what is it?” Harry asked, standing at her side, his arm brushing hers.

  She was silent.

  “What is it, Liv? Tell me.”

  “I can’t tell you the details, mainly because I don’t know them all. He won’t share them with me.”

  “Won’t share them?” Harry frowned.

  “No, he doesn’t want to upset me with the details of his relationship with his father.”

  “It was really fucked up then?”

  “And violent.”

  “Shit, really?”

  She sighed. “Yes, really.”

  “I should go to him.” Harry paused. “Do you think he’ll talk to me?”

  “Yes, out of everyone,” her heart lifted with hope, “it would be you, Harry. And he can’t keep this bottled up, it has to come out. Otherwise it will eat him alive.”

  “In America he’d just go and see a damn shrink, but I don’t think they have them in the bush.” Harry rubbed her lower back. “Don’t worry, it’s not good for you or the baby, and that’s what he’ll be thinking, too, that he doesn’t want to worry you.”

  “But I am worried.”

  “I know. So am I.”

  “So you’ll speak to him?”

  “Yes. I’ll go now. Get him while it’s raw and hope to hell he doesn’t hate me for prying.”

  “He won’t hate you.”

  “Evan has a knack of surprising us all.”

  She didn’t say anything. Instead she watched as Harry headed out onto the decking. He walked up to Evan, turned so his ass was against the railings, and rested his hand on Evan’s shoulder.

  Olivia wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself.

  Harry was speaking, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying through the glass and the door was shut. He was squinting in the bright sunshine.

  Evan didn’t appear to be responding, his head still hung low.

  For a moment she admired his long lean back, and the way his faded denims hugged his ass. He was so beautiful. How could anyone want to hurt him? Least of all his father.

  Harry stopped talking and folded his arms.

  Evan was staring out into the distance now. Suddenly he straightened. Paced left then right and came to a halt beside Harry. He started talking, gesturing with his hands.

  Harry didn’t speak, just tipped his head and listened.

  She hoped to hell Evan was getting everything out into the open with Harry. Telling him about his violent childhood, the hidden bruises, his fears for his mother, how he’d finally threatened his father, with a knife, and brought it to an end. All of those thoughts in her head were awful. She didn’t want to even begin to imagine what he wasn’t telling her.

  Evan pointed up at the house, then into the distance. When she caught a glimpse of his face, his cheeks were flushed. She became convinced he was telling Harry the whole sorry story.

  She reached for a glass of water then continued to watch as she sipped it.

  Harry remained motionless, arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other, the toe of his sneaker stabbing into the decking.

  “Hey, hen.” Mason came into the room. “What you up to?”

  “I was talking to Evan and Harry. They’ve gone outside now.”

  Mason joined her and looked out of the window. “Evan okay?”

  “Not really, but
I hope he’ll be better when he’s spoken to Harry about how he’s feeling.”

  “Ah, a good chat with a mate will help.” Mason kind of huffed. “Not the Scottish way, though; we handle it all in here, on our own.” He banged his chest.

  “Oh, who are you kidding?” She smiled. “You and Lucas look tough, but you’re softies inside.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Damn, you know our secret.” He laughed. “Don’t go spreading it around, you’ll ruin our reputation.” He kissed her cheek.

  She inhaled his scent. He’d showered after the journey and applied cologne. It was peppery and sexy. She liked it.

  “You think they’ll be long?” he asked. “There’s not enough food here to feed us all. But Lucas found a takeaway menu. Seems one place in the town will deliver out here as long as fuel is covered and the order is over fifty dollars.”

  “Really?” Her attention was back on Harry and Evan. The one-sided conversation was as intense as ever. “That’s good. The kids will be hungry soon.”

  “Aye, shall I order for Harry and Evan?” Mason stood next to her and glanced out.

  “Yes, that might be best.”

  Evan stopped talking. He hung his head and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, his shoulders hunched forward.

  Harry quickly reached for him, dragging him into a tight hug.

  Evan kept his face buried in his hands as he nestled his face on Harry’s neck.

  “Nah, definitely not the Scot way.” Mason shook his head. “All those man hugs and stuff.” He stepped away. “I’ll order for them. What do you want?”

  “Order for me, too, please. I probably won’t eat much. Nothing spicy.”

  “Sure thing, hen.”

  As he left the kitchen, Harry caught Evan’s cheeks in his hands and raised his head so they were nose to nose.

  Anxiety and sorrow was etched onto Harry’s face. He spoke, then brushed Evan’s long strands of hair back from his forehead.

  Evan had stilled, but his body no longer appeared tense, it was as if he was drained, and his energy had been sapped from him. His arms hung at his sides.

  Harry pressed a lingering kiss on Evan’s forehead. It was so tender and gentle Olivia’s heart ached. Whatever he’d just learned had affected Harry deeply.

  She only hoped it had helped Evan to let it out.