Saving Wishes

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Saving Wishes Page 3

by G. J. Walker-Smith


  “Nice car.”

  “It is. And he drives it like a maniac.” I wanted my comment to get under his skin. The way he chewed his bottom lip proved it had.

  “Park at the café and I’ll walk over,” I said. As expected, Alex ignored me and pulled up along side Adam’s car. “You don’t need to turn the car off. You’re not staying,” I warned.

  Still ignoring me, he took the keys out of the ignition. I should have known Alex would make a production out of it and I wasn’t the least bit surprised when he got out of the car. He stayed behind me as I walked over to Adam. The three of us standing in the car park reminded me of a western movie, right before guns were drawn and carnage ensued. I introduced them before Alex had a chance to say something cringe-worthy.

  “Adam, hi. This is my brother, Alex.” I pointed at him in case Adam mistook him for a seagull or something.

  Adam extended his hand and Alex met it with a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” replied Alex.

  I was a little shocked. My brother usually had a smart remark for everyone and everything. I gave him a look that would have killed him if I’d concentrated harder. “You can go now.”

  “Oh, geez, Charlotte. Thanks.” Obviously the daze had lifted. “Call me if your plans change.” He strode back to his car.

  Adam looked to the ground in a failed attempt at hiding his smile. “He seems nice.”

  “So do most serial killers the first time you meet them.”

  Chuckling darkly, Adam opened the door for me. I got in and breathed out an unsteady breath of relief. I didn’t need Alex there to screw things up for me. I was perfectly capable of doing that myself. Adam got in the car and a few seconds later the engine purred to life.

  I instructed Adam to pull over just after we left the car park.

  “Is there something to see here?” he asked. His confused expression made me giggle. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re having a joke at my expense, Charlotte?”

  He always seemed to speak formally, as if he chose the longest, most articulate way to say something. And there was something really sexy about it.

  “No joke, Adam.” I said, deadpan. “This is a major attraction in Pipers Cove.” He looked sceptical but followed my finger as I pointed through the windscreen. I read the sign out loud. “Welcome to Pipers Cove. Population four hundred and sixty-eight.” I spoke theatrically, as if I was reading from a neon billboard.

  He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “And this is significant because?”

  “You don’t like it?” I asked, feigning disappointment. I added a pout.

  He studied the peeling paint and outdated landscape. “It’s a very nice sign. Is it special in some way?”

  “Of course it is. See the picture of the lighthouse on the rocks?”

  “I see it.”

  “Well, that’s the kicker. There’s no lighthouse in Pipers Cove. It’s a big fat lie. This little Cove is so boring that they had to invent a lighthouse. Tourists spend days looking for it.”

  Adam slowly turned to face me, showing no sign of annoyance. “You’re a stellar tour guide, Charli,” he drawled sarcastically.

  “I had to show it to you. I didn’t want you to be one of the tourists who perish from exhaustion after searching in vain for days on end. I may have just saved your life.”

  “Thank you for the heads up, but Gabrielle’s already warned me about the lighthouse, or lack thereof.”

  I cringed. “Did you tell Mademoiselle Décarie that you were spending the day with me?”

  “I did.”

  “And what did she say?” I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know.

  “She wished me luck.” His warm grin took the edge off.

  “She doesn’t like me very much,” I admitted. “I’m sure she told you that.”

  “I’m free to make up my own mind, Charli. So far, so good – you’ve already saved my life once.”

  I laughed. “Okay. We should probably move on. Is there anything in particular you want to see?”

  Adam hesitated before reaching into his coat and pulling out a postcard. He smoothed it out as best he could before handing it to me. It looked like it had been folded and unfolded a million times. The heavy crease in the centre ruined a very familiar scene.

  “Do you know this place? Gabrielle sent me this months ago. I’m hoping it was taken somewhere close by.”

  I knew exactly where the picture was taken. “It’s not far from here,” I replied casually, passing the postcard back. “I’ll take you there.”

  Adam slipped the postcard back in his pocket. “You barely glanced at it. Are you sure you know where it is?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve lived here my whole life, Adam. Trust me. I know exactly where it is.”

  The sleek black Audi negotiated the turns to the top of the cliffs effortlessly. It was a far cry from my little old car that struggled to make it halfway up on its best day. Thick bush crowded both sides of the track. Adam winced each time a branch scraped the car, probably pained by the thought of the deep scratches being inflicted on his car. I pretended not to notice. He parked at the very end of the track, but there was nothing to see. It just looked like a dead-end road to nowhere.

  Winter meant the bush was especially green, and obscured the view of the ocean. An unsuspecting hiker could fall off the edge by simply walking too far into the greenery, which is why the local council had abandoned the lookout years earlier and stopped maintaining the road. I watched through the windscreen as Adam wandered to the edge of the track, searching for his postcard landscape.

  I’d spent more time up at the lookout than I’d ever admit. It was one of my favourite places to waste away an afternoon, sitting on the rickety old bench that had withstood a million storms. Only Alex knew of the time I spent up there. It was one of my best kept secrets.

  The frigid air stung my face as I got out of the car. It was always windy on the cliffs, a few degrees colder too.

  “Are you sure this is it?” he asked sceptically.

  “Absolutely.”

  I strolled past him, towards a sandy opening between trees. I could feel Adam close behind me but didn’t turn to check that he was keeping up. The roaring of the ocean got louder. I could feel salt on my face. When I broke through to the clearing, I stopped to let Adam pass. He took a deep breath as if the fierce wind had punched him. His expression was a mix of amazement and awe.

  “Unbelievable! It’s exactly the same as the picture!” He walked past the bench, dangerously close to the edge of the drop. He leaned forward to get a better look, making me extremely nervous. I ordered him back from the edge. Adam looked back at me, grinning impishly as he took a large step back.

  “Thank you,” I breathed.

  “Are you afraid of heights?”

  “No. I’m afraid of telling Gabrielle that I let you fall off a cliff,” I replied sarcastically.

  Laughing darkly, he sat on the bench and motioned to the space beside him. “Can we sit for a minute?”

  I stood with my back to the ocean, fighting to keep my footing as the strong wind pushed me closer to him. My hair whipped forward, lashing my face. I brushed it back, holding it in place with my hand.

  “Please, Charli. Before you blow away.”

  The change in wind force as I sat beside him was instant. I linked my hands around my knees, bringing them to my chest.

  “Do you come up here often?” he asked.

  “All the time. It’s very quiet up here.”

  His smile was the most genuine I’d seen from him. “Well, I’m honoured that you shared it with me.”

  “Adam, why are you here?”

  “You brought me here, Charlotte,” he replied.

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  He smiled. “I know what you mean.” I couldn’t believe that Pipers Cove was his dream destination. I wanted to hear that he was on the run from the law or being chased by mobsters. “I’m
on summer break. Visiting Gabrielle seemed like a nice change of pace.”

  Right. We were sitting at the top of a cliff, half freezing to death. Adam sank down on the bench, pulling his collar up. We sat in silence staring into the distance. The massive ocean looked grey and angry, dotted with white caps where the wind had broken the waves, and the dark clouds above complemented its mood perfectly.

  “Are you glad you came?” I asked.

  He kept his eyes on the ocean ahead.

  “All my friends went to Europe, some resort in Spain. They’re probably sipping cocktails on the beach as we speak.”

  “You must be wishing you’d gone with them.” Heck, I was wishing I’d gone with them. “Cocktails versus hypothermia. Tough choice.”

  Adam looked at me. No quick glance, I could feel his lingering stare long before I met his gaze.

  “Coming here was the right choice, Charli.” He spoke slowly and deliberately.

  I felt a blush prick my cheeks and fought to keep my eyes from drifting away. “But why here? What made you come here?” Nobody would voluntarily waste their summer in Pipers Cove.

  Adam sighed. “You’re going to think my reasons are lame.”

  I shook my head, promising I wouldn’t.

  He folded his arms across his chest to combat the cold. “Gabrielle’s been here for a few years now. We’ve always kept in touch. I email her, but she likes to send postcards. She’s old school.” He winked at me and I smiled. “The picture of this place just got to me. I needed to see it. I’m not usually impulsive – in fact, I’m painfully predictable most of the time. Ditching my friends at Heathrow and jumping a plane to Australia is about the craziest thing I’ve ever done. But I needed to see it.” He frowned at the ground.

  “It’s just a postcard, Adam,” I teased, having no clue what else to say.

  The frown melted. “Maybe it isn’t about the postcard. Maybe there’s a bigger picture. Do you believe in fate, Charli?”

  “No.” I almost spat out the word.

  “What about love at first sight?”

  I grimaced, refusing to entertain why he’d asked me. “Definitely not.”

  “So you would leave nothing to chance then?”

  We truly were strangers. Anyone who knew me would know that I had a nasty habit of leaving absolutely every aspect of my life to chance, and not always to my advantage.

  I kicked the dirt beneath my feet, digging a groove in the sand. “Probably not.”

  “Well, I plan every aspect of my life. I don’t think I’ve been leaving enough to chance. I came half way around the world on a whim, searching for a place that might not have even existed.”

  “Well, thank goodness she didn’t send you a postcard of the lighthouse.”

  He agreed, laughing.

  “This view is really something,” he said at last, focusing on the vast ocean.

  “It is.” The beauty of Pipers Cove couldn’t be denied.

  “You don’t sound too impressed.”

  “I was… the first few hundred times I saw it.”

  “Maybe you should consider a vacation of your own, Charli. You sound like you need one.”

  “I’m in my last year of high school. I’ll turn eighteen in December and then I’m out of here.,” I announced with a touch of theatre in my voice. “That’s always been the plan.”

  “Where will you go?” I wasn’t sure if he was interested or being polite. His expression gave nothing away.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted.

  He threw his head back in a huge bray of laughter. “So you’ve been plotting your escape your whole life but you haven’t actually planned where you’re going to go?”

  I grinned; I couldn’t help myself. “The world’s a big place. I’m spoiled for choice.”

  “It is. Does Alex want you to stay?”

  I shook my head. “He wants me to finish school, though. I’m okay with that. It’s the least I can do for him.”

  “How long have you two been on your own?”

  It was a polite way of asking an ugly question. I felt no need to launch into the sad story of our lives. I was sure Mademoiselle Décarie would have filled him in on the details. It would have been her explanation as to why I was so damaged.

  “Since I was three.”

  “You’re close?”

  “He’s all I have.” It sounded trite, but the truth often does. Adam looked forward again, processing the information.

  I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me. It was Alex who deserved the pity. I hardly remembered my mother. All I had was a hazy batch of recollections that dulled a little more each year. I barely knew her in life, so it was hard to stay close to her in death. I remembered even less of my father. According to Alex, he left just after I was born. We hardly ever spoke of them and I think Alex preferred it that way.

  “Tell me about you,” I blurted, to change the subject.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything. Start at the beginning,” I demanded, making him laugh.

  “Okay. Well, originally I’m from Marseille. I moved with my brother and parents to New York when I was seven and….”

  “How old are you now?” It was a question I’d been dying to ask since I’d met him.

  “Twenty-one in October.” I studied his features closely. The wind had dishevelled his dark hair, giving it a little more kink than when it was neat. His unusual cobalt eyes gave him a dark edge that didn’t quite match his personality. He looked exactly twenty years old.

  “What date?” I asked. The look he gave suggested it was a strange question.

  “The thirty-first. Halloween.”

  I nodded and the conversation faltered. I tried to come up with a question intelligent enough to negate the last. Asking him to finish his story was the best I could come up with.

  Adam was decidedly more American than French. He spoke of New York with the fondness of someone who truly felt he belonged there. He lived somewhere called the Upper East Side, between Central Park and the East River. He mentioned it casually, as if I would know where it was. I pretended I did, promising myself I’d research it later.

  His father headed a law firm. Adam – the younger of the Décarie brothers –planned to follow in his footsteps. He wasn’t exaggerating when he’d told me that he had his whole life mapped out. After his impromptu trip to Pipers Cove, he was heading back to New York to commence his first year of law school. This boy was so far out of my league it was embarrassing. I found myself staring at him, trying to find some minute flaw that might justify dragging him back to my level. Finding nothing, I decided that having a dimple on only one cheek was practically a deformity.

  “So what about you, Charli?” he asked.

  “What about me?” He needed to be more specific. I couldn’t think of a single interesting thing about myself to put forward.

  “Do you have any idea what you want to do, apart from travel?”

  “That’s all I want to do. I don’t aspire to rule the world. I just want to rule my world.” The words came out in a rush, sounding horribly conceited. I had no plans of a brilliant career. The biggest thing I aspired to do was get out of town. “I guess it must sound pretty unambitious to you,” I added.

  “I never said that,” he said. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  I suddenly felt wide open, fearing I’d just shown him enough craziness to make him want to cut me loose at any second. Determined to get in first, I stood and began walking away.

  “Have I said something to upset you, Charli?”

  I didn’t turn around. “No. I just can’t find any common ground between us.”

  “What does that matter?” I could hear the amusement in his voice, adding to my embarrassment. “I thought we were getting to know each other. I also thought it was going pretty well. I like you, Charli.”

  “You don’t know me, Adam.”

  He wouldn’t like me if he knew me. In fact, he’d probably despise me. Ke
eping him around was just delaying the inevitable.

  “I know enough. Shall I tell you what I know?” His question stopped me in my tracks. “I think you’re insecure, which is a shame. You’re far too beautiful to be insecure about your looks, so maybe you’re nursing a broken heart. Or perhaps I scared you with my postcard story. Could that be it?”

  “No.”

  “I think you don’t like people getting close.”

  I stared at him, for far too long to appear unaffected by his words.

  “Whatever.” My reply would have been perfectly adequate coming from a ten year old girl with a limited vocabulary. Coming from me, it sounded pathetic. I wasted no more time walking away.

  “Charli, please,” I heard. I didn’t slow down until I reached the car.

  Then I realised that my dramatic exit was for nothing. I had to face the humiliating fact that I’d arrived at the lookout in Adam’s car. I had no choice but to wait for him.

  The tortured French-American boy eventually strolled out of the bush, twirling his car keys around his fingers as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  My awkwardness had consumed me by the time we got in the car. I slumped in the cold leather seat, not looking at him. He turned the key and the engine purred to life. “I’d really like a cup of coffee right about now,” he said. “Do you think we could go for coffee?”

  He must have really needed the caffeine hit. I could think of no other reason for dragging out the agony.

  “I’ve had enough for one day,” I mumbled.

  “Okay, I’ll take you home,” he replied quietly. The scraping of the bushes against the paintwork, amplified by the silence inside the car, didn’t seem to bother him the way it had on the way up. Not a word was uttered until we were nearing the town.

  “You can drop me off at the café,” I told him. “You’re going there anyway if you want coffee. You could try the Daintree’s souvenir shop coffee but as far as I know, it’s still instant and tastes like dirt.”

  He didn’t answer me and I wasn’t sure where we were headed until he pulled up at the café. We weren’t the only ones parked there.

  “What is it?” asked Adam, noticing my grimace.

 

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