‘She’ll give us space. You’re lucky Dan’s not around. There’s no way we would have managed two kisses and a conversation without teasing.’
Luc looks surprised. I guess it’s the easy way Dan’s name rolls off my tongue. ‘It seems talking about him with my parents has made remembering hurt a little less.’
He nods. ‘Dad and I talk about Jolie all the time. It keeps her with us.’ He sneaks another kiss. ‘Have I mentioned how much I adore you?’
‘I don’t think I could hear that enough.’ I pause. ‘For a long time I wasn’t sure I deserved to have love or feel happy. Not when Dan couldn’t. Not after all the mistakes I made.’
His hands tighten on my waist. ‘Why do you think I’ve kept my distance these last few weeks? How could I be with you and allow myself the happiness it gives me, when Jolie . . . I wanted to hold you that day on my doorstep but the sight of you lifted my spirits in a way that made me feel guilty.’
‘But she’d want you to be happy.’
His grin is crooked and adorable. ‘I’m starting to know that. One of the last things she told me was to stop moping around her hospital room like a grouch and return your calls, but I couldn’t. I needed time.’
‘And now?’
‘I think I love you even more. Knowing you were there all this time . . . You’ll never know the hours I spent lying awake, reading and re-reading those texts you sent me. It was like every ding was another of those ring things they have on ships that keep you afloat. I would have drowned without you.’
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘That first night, when I asked why you were grumpy and you pretty much told me where to go. What was all that about?’
‘It was because of Jolie,’ he admits. ‘I didn’t know how to keep her secret. And I didn’t know how to pretend I wasn’t watching someone I love carry out a wish they’d been granted because they were dying.’
My hand closes over his. Still strong despite the pain in his voice. ‘I guessed later it wasn’t at me.’
‘And I liked you. But that wasn’t part of my supervision plan. I couldn’t sleep after the way I’d treated you, but I didn’t know how to explain and keep my promise to Jolie. I saw you leave the campsite that night. I wanted to go after you, to apologise, but I thought you’d figure me for some stalker.’ This time when he kisses me there’s all the pent-up emotion of these last few weeks. I match his hunger, deepening the kiss. When we stop to breathe, there’s wonder on his face.
‘What?’ I ask.
He doesn’t answer, keeping up the amazed act until I have to consider a sharp jab to his ribs. But then he chuckles.
‘This,’ he brushes my lips again, ‘is the only way to taste Diet Coke.’
I cover my mouth. ‘Is it yuck?’
He kisses each knuckle and then nudges my hand aside before answering against my lips. ‘Not at all.’
* * *
‘He’s here.’ Mum’s voice winds up the stairs to my bedroom.
The announcement is unnecessary—I’ve been staring out my window for the last hour, waiting for Luc to arrive.
Despite having been ready for ages, I check my reflection one more time. It’s kind of crazy really. This guy has seen me first thing in the morning, sunburned and without make-up. And as of last night he’s seen me sweaty and amped, singing on stage. He’s seen me drenched from a storm, crying and fighting with a grief I’ll never quite get over.
But it’s hard not to want to impress him. Since he came by on Tuesday we’ve been texting, and we even stopped for a late-night burger when he drove me home from the gig last night. However, he was super secretive when he asked if I was free for lunch today, and wouldn’t tell me where we’d be going.
Everything looks bright this morning. Even the girl in the mirror. I smile at her because I can meet her gaze at last. She’s not the same girl Dan knew.
She’s better.
And I hope he’d like her. In between teasing her and farting on her head, of course.
With one last critical scan of my long white dress and denim jacket, I slip on my wedges and hurry to meet Luc at the door. Mum and Dad look up from the paper as I pass.
Dad clears his throat. ‘Tell Luc he’s welcome to stay for dinner later. Shivani and the little man will be coming.’
‘I will.’
I’m out the door before Luc has climbed out of the car.
‘Hey,’ he says, wrapping me in a hug. ‘I’m pretty glad to see you too.’
I press a hard kiss to his lips. ‘Dad said you should come for the family dinner tonight. I think he likes you.’
Luc wipes a hand across his brow. ‘I wasn’t sure he liked my dance moves last night.’
I wince. ‘Please tell me they didn’t dance. It’s bad enough having my parents come to my show.’
‘By bad, you mean really good?’
Sprung. It was great. They only stayed for the first few songs but it was kind of cool to see them there at the back of the crowd. I grin. ‘Maybe. Where are we going, anyway?’
‘You’ll see.’
I’m more than a little confused when he parks outside one of the city’s biggest hospitals twenty minutes later. He gets a picnic hamper from the backseat and holds out a hand to me. ‘Coming?’
‘A picnic at a hospital?’
He sighs. ‘I’m hoping it will be better than it sounds.’
I get out and he links his fingers through mine. He explains that Jolie spent a lot of time here over the years. He shares the usual sibling stories of fights and adventures, but with the added twist of Jolie being hooked up to monitors, and nurses shushing them when they got out of hand.
They’re happy memories mostly, and he smiles as he tells them, all the while leading me along corridors then into a lift and through more corridors until I’m thoroughly lost.
We stop at a glass door. It’s close enough to the children’s ward that I can hear chattering voices. There’s a big sign with the words ‘Construction Site’.
Letting go of my hand, Luc pulls a key from his pocket. He unlocks the door and pushes it open.
I look around the corridor, expecting someone to yell at us for trespassing. ‘Are we allowed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do we need to wear hard hats or anything?’
‘Not as of two days ago. It’s a shame—I think you’d be hot in yellow. And boots. Now I kind of wish I’d brought you earlier, but I wanted you to see it finished.’
‘See what?’
He holds the door wide. ‘Take a look.’
I step over the threshold and into a kid’s fantasy. High windows let light stream over an area filled with climbing and digging and swinging equipment. Amazing murals of robots and animals and Disney princesses brighten the walls. But the centrepiece is all Jolie.
A blue-grey cubby with white trim and a bright pink front door.
There’s a small plaque in front of the colourful building. It reads, ‘Jolie’s House. Because we remember.’
I trace the words on my wrist.
The night I got the tattoo, I stumbled into the place and told the woman what I wanted, ignoring the judgement in her eyes. I didn’t care that she sneered through her lip rings. The needle stung so bad but I didn’t cry. I laughed until I hiccupped and laughed some more. Until tears ran down my cheeks.
I thought the words meant that I needed to go back to the way I was before Dan died if I wanted to be happy.
Now I think maybe they mean that I’m allowed to keep going. That it’s okay to change.
I can’t go back, and it was crazy for me to try. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a new kind of happiness ahead. If I can manage not to let my lingering fear screw the whole thing up.
Luc and I explore the playhouse together. We debate whether boys will use the rainbow-coloured tea set, race each other up the climbing wall and laugh as we fly down the slide.
‘I can imagine her here,’ I say.
Luc’s eyes grow misty. ‘Me too. She loved all the different play areas around the hospital but I think she would have adored this one.’ He exhales hard. ‘This couldn’t have been built without Gray helping to fund it. I know it’s not much money to him, but it’s a lot to us. He stayed in town for a few days after the funeral. We were talking late one night about her legacy and he remembered the house. She raved about it to him that very first night. We thought this was the perfect place.’
‘The kids will love it.’
‘I think so too. And don’t forget, I promised you lunch.’
I spread out the blue-and-white checked blanket while he pulls containers from the basket. The sun shines through the tall glass windows and it’s warm enough that I have to take off my jacket. It feels like a little bit of summer has been caught in this magical space.
‘First we have a crab pasta thing. It had a fancy name, and you like seafood, so I figured . . .’
He’s looking all nervous and hopeful and I think my heart might burst from the cuteness of it all. Then his words sink in. Crab pasta. I put my hand to my mouth in exaggerated horror. ‘You want me to eat Sebastian?’ I tease.
He understands the reference to Jolie’s favourite Disney movie. ‘No, I checked before I cooked him, this one was nameless.’
‘You cooked? I thought you didn’t really like cooking.’
‘Me too.’ He places the cold pasta salad and crusty bread out on the blanket. ‘For the last few years my life has revolved around Jolie, and I don’t regret a minute of that time. I thought I cooked for her sake, now I’m trying to work out if that’s true.’
I understand. I’m still trying to work out who I am now that Dan’s gone. I’m the same and different. Better for Luc to work it out over some recipes than lying in the gutter after a big night like me.
I sneak one of the pasta tubes from the bowl, giving him an unrepentant grin when he pretends annoyance. ‘It looks too good to wait.’ The creamy pink sauce starts to dribble down my fingers and I pop it between my lips before I can make any more of a mess. ‘Oh, my, deliciousness,’ I moan.
‘Glad you like it.’
I lick the remnants from my fingers and his dark eyes on me make the gesture intimate.
I frown. ‘Don’t look at me like that in a children’s playground.’
Red spots appear on his cheeks as he scans the empty area. ‘I wasn’t looking at you like anything—besides, the area doesn’t open until tomorrow.’ He leans closer. ‘We’re most definitely alone.’
His mouth on mine takes thought and leaves feeling. It opens and I’m drowning and flying and I don’t even know. There is nothing else. I’ve been waiting for this—perhaps forever.
There’s something more than love and heat in his kiss. There’s happiness. I know what it’s like to fear that there’s no such thing, so I’m learning to treasure every drop. Being with Luc makes me think there might be more of it ahead.
But I don’t know. That not knowing used to terrify me. Life was this fragile thing that could be snatched away at any moment. But living with the terror is getting a little easier.
‘I love you,’ he says.
Simple words that wrap around me and then through me, warming the cold places I used to think were on permanent freeze. It’s not that with Luc I don’t think anything bad can happen—we’re both painfully aware of the crap that life can deal.
But in Luc’s arms, I remember that I can handle anything.
I remember.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Losing a loved one is the hardest thing, and I think it changes a person forever.
Writing a book takes a whole lot of people to get to a finished product and I offer my heartfelt thanks to anyone not explicitly mentioned below.
Thank you to the amazing team at Harlequin Australia. You have been incredible to work with at every stage. Special thanks to Sue Brockhoff, Rachael Donovan, Laurie Ormond, Julia Knapman, Vanessa Lanaway and Tara Goedjen who brought out the best in me and this story.
Special thanks to Ali McDonald and her team for being in my corner.
My writing friends keep me showing up to work at the computer every day. Sharing the ups and downs of creating a story with people who understand makes everything a little easier. My writing sprint girls keep me writing when I’d otherwise stop—thanks Lisa Ireland, Emily Madden and Amanda Knight. Extra thanks to Rach Johns for not only the writing talk but the billion emails a day that keep me sane.
Thanks to my family and friends for your love and support. Thanks to the school mums who didn’t (seem to) think it odd the days I showed up sniffling over these characters. Huge thanks to my sisters Fi and Kirst—siblings are amazing things. Also to Dick and Shirley and Dad and Lyn. Special thanks to Mitch and Chloe—this is your book in so many ways and I am so proud of the big people you’re becoming. That song will be forever tied with you, Mitch. And Chloe, you will always be my Ariel.
As always, thanks Mum—you believed in me.
Thanks to my kids. You all love to talk stories with mum (less of mine and more of your own) and don’t seem to mind when I promise I’m coming from my study, but I have to write just one more line.
Thank you to Davey, who has done this road trip with me and our much loved Lion and Matty (but without the fancy accommodation). I love making memories with you. Thanks for everything. Always.
And sorry that I made you cry on the bus.
CHAPTER
1
Callie
I am having a good time.
I am having a good time.
I am having a good time.
Maybe if I repeat it often enough I might begin to believe it. I’ve just arrived at one of the biggest dances of the school year without a date. My so-called boyfriend didn’t even text to say he’d be late. Thankfully no-one’s commented on Jonny’s absence yet, or me turning up as my best friend Bree’s third wheel. Maybe no-one is looking close enough to care.
‘Careful, the cracks are showing,’ Bree murmurs under cover of the music.
Unsure if she’s referring to my sour expression or my thick make-up, I force a smile. The school captain must look the part.
‘Better,’ she says, linking her arm through mine and pulling me closer to the band.
I take a sip of fruit punch. Orange and pineapple, and something else I can’t name, swirl on my tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste. My head throbs in perfect rhythm with the drummer, who’s out of time with the others. The guitarist drops to his knees for some kind of solo and a sudden longing for the peace of my room combines with the smoke from the machine in the corner, stinging my eyes. I should have stayed home, but if I leave now I’ll just draw attention to my single status.
When the music breaks at last, I exhale, relaxing the tight muscles across my neck and shoulders. I reckon two hours of this torture and I can make a dignified exit.
Whispers rustle across the gym, but before I can turn, Bree snickers. ‘I can’t believe she came.’ Her nose wrinkles in that just-stepped-in-something way that tells me the she being referred to is Scarlett Barker. ‘Why bother coming when she doesn’t even have a date?’
‘Thanks,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘You really know how to make a girl feel better about herself. I might as well have “Loser” tattooed across my forehead.’
She looks at me and realises what she’s said. ‘Not you. I mean, Jonny’s coming. He’s caught in traffic. Everyone knows the commute is a nightmare on a Friday night.’
I’m glad she’s so sure. At least one of us is. ‘Maybe she’s meeting someone here.’
‘I doubt it. Look what she’s wearing.’
I turn. The white lace dress is unlike anything else here. It’s obviously handmade or op-shop. I mentally wince on Scarlett’s behalf. ‘It’s unusual.’
‘Unusually bad.’ Bree drains her plastic cup and scans the room, her interest in Scarlett Barker fading.
But I can’t look away.
Scarlett looks u
p. I meet her gaze and see a flash of uncertainty in her dark eyes. Or maybe it’s disappointment. I drag my gaze from hers. I’m probably imagining it.
I refocus on my friend and my empty cup. ‘What’s in the punch?’ I have to shout because the band’s started up again. They don’t sound half as bad as they did before.
Bree shrugs and hands me another drink courtesy of her blonde gorilla boyfriend. She watches him head back to his mates, a glow of adoration flushing her cheeks. ‘I don’t know, but it tastes good.’ And then, when I hesitate, ‘Do you have to analyse everything? There are no exams on this, you know.’
Ouch. She’s right though. Tonight’s supposed to be a celebration. Instead of answering, I raise my cup. We clink cups and drink some more.
Bree frowns. ‘You’re fuzzy.’
Her serious tone makes me want to giggle. I grab the next drink she presses into my hand and sip it while checking my phone. Still nothing from Jonny. I told him he didn’t have to come tonight, but he assured me he’d drive back, given that it’s his mum’s birthday tomorrow anyway. He promised.
‘Do you want to dance?’ Judging by the thin set of Bree’s precisely lined lips, I don’t think it’s the first time she’s asked.
‘Yes,’ I blurt, shaking my head at the same time.
Bree laughs. ‘Which is it?’
‘Yes.’ I grab her hand and tug her towards the dance floor. Right to the middle, in fact, and we move in sync with the throng around us.
Bree dances easily, as always. Her ballet background means she has an immaculate sense of timing, at least on the dance floor. Together with her perfect, shining dark hair, big eyes and curves that I can only dream about, it’s a lethal combination.
My best friend since I was seven sways close enough to shout in my ear, ‘This isn’t like you.’
‘It is tonight.’ I execute a dramatic twirl to prove my point and grab her arm to keep myself from falling.
We celebrate my staying upright by draining our cups of punch.
This must be what Mum meant when she promised I’d have a good time without Jonny. At first when he didn’t show she was the model of sympathy, helping me repair my make-up, and brushing out my hair like she used to when I was a kid. Then came the tacked-on reminder. ‘Don’t forget that the scholarship committee monitors school community participation.’
The Last Days of Us Page 21
