by Darcy Coates
“Do you like gardening?”
“I’ve never done it before. But I’d like to.” Mara felt giddy and shoved her half-eaten food to one side.
Neil offered her his hand, and she took it gratefully. The contact helped centre and focus her. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles fondly.
“It probably wouldn’t seem too big with another person living there.” Mara was breathless, and she didn’t dare look at Neil’s face. “I mean, you’d fill it up pretty well.”
“Yeah?”
“If you wanted.”
Neil squeezed her hand. “I can’t leave Mum right now—”
“Oh. Oh yeah, of course.”
Mara tried to pull her hand back, but Neil tightened his grip. He brought his second hand under her chin to raise her head so that she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “But that isn’t going to be permanent. And then I’d love to help fill up that house. And you know, Jenny was right—it’s the perfect size for a family. If that’s something you want.”
His smile was one of the most beautiful things Mara had ever seen. She was glad she was sitting; she didn’t think her legs would hold her up. “Yeah.”
“I love you,” Neil whispered.
Mara tried to lean forward to kiss him, but the booth’s table stopped her short. He laughed and bent towards her, meeting her in the middle, and her heart flipped as his lips grazed over hers. “Mara,” he whispered, and his hand caressed her cheek and pulled her closer so that he could kiss her properly.
“All done here?” The waitress’s frosty voice cut through Mara’s daze, and she and Neil broke their kiss and collapsed back into their seats.
Neil mumbled an apology, but Mara pushed her plates towards the edge of the table. “Actually, can I get some pancakes?”
The waitress didn’t answer but turned a simpering smile on Neil. “Anything for you, honey?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Sure thing.” The waitress didn’t take her eyes off him as she scooped the plates up.
Mara couldn’t fail to notice how much effort the waitress put into sashaying her hips as she returned to the kitchen. “What a jerk.”
She was used to Neil attracting attention. He had an easy, comforting aura. His strong jaw, captivating smile, and muscles that stood out even under loose clothes certainly didn’t hurt either. Luckily for her, he was almost always oblivious to flirtation.
His eyebrows drew together. “You look worried.”
Mara shook her frown off and laughed. “No, just thinking about how lucky I am.”
“With the house? Yeah, it’s actually sort of surprising Jenny didn’t suggest it before today. She’d probably given up trying to sell it.”
“That too.” Mara tilted her head to one side. “But that wasn’t what I was thinking of. How’d I end up with you, Neil? Why’d you ask me out?”
Neil’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, and he raised his hand to caress her cheek. “You were sitting under the big elm in the park and reading Emma. I couldn’t get over how beautiful you looked. It took me at least twenty minutes to get up the courage to ask you out, you know.”
Heat rose across Mara’s cheeks. She couldn’t keep herself from leaning into his touch. “And you’ve stuck with me ever since. Why? I’m broken. I have enough baggage to fill a freighter plane. I yell at our realtor. But you—you have all of your crap together—you could have any girl you wanted—”
“I want you.” Neil’s eyes, sweet and firm, captivated Mara. Perfect conviction laced his every word. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before. When I’m near you, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Mara closed her eyes and nuzzled his hand. “Stop being so nice.”
“Only when you stop being so loveable.”
That made Mara chuckle. “Want to get out of here?”
“I don’t mind, but what about your pancakes?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty certain that waitress is going to spit in the batter. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SEVEN: Relocation
Breathless Jenny turned out to be a surprisingly staunch ally in Mara’s fight to move house. With her rental contract ending with the month, Mara’s days were filled with phone calls to arrange inspections, pay taxes, chase up forms that were moving sluggishly, beg for expedition whenever it was possible and, of course, the eternal search for a new job.
They cut it close. Mara was on the last day of her contract when Jenny dropped off Blackwood House’s keys with an anxiously whispered, “Good luck, honey!”
Mara waved to the hot-pink car as it crawled out of her alley then opened her fist to grin at the tarnished, rusty key. My own home. It may be a dump, but it’s my dump.
She fished her mobile out and left a message on Neil’s phone while she climbed the stairs to her apartment. He was at work and likely wouldn’t finish until late that afternoon. Mara would have to be patient. She needed his car to move her few possessions.
Mara wiggled the doorhandle until it opened, and entered her room for the final time. It felt incredible that, after four years, she’d finally have a house of her own. The incessant sacrifices and innumerable cut corners had paid off.
She owned very little that she wanted to take with her besides her wardrobe. Just her phone, toiletries, a collection of gifts from Neil, and a small bag of tinned food she’d bought to get her through her first day at Blackwood. She hadn’t seen the building since the inspection two weeks previously and didn’t want to commit herself to any large purchases until she had a better feel for what she needed.
Mara crossed to the window and sat in the small plastic chair. She tried to immerse herself in an ebook on her phone to pass the time but couldn’t stop checking the clock every few minutes. After half an hour of futile half distraction, she put the phone down and leaned on the sill to watch the alley. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the silver car parked at the curb below. Neil. He must have gotten my message and left work early.
The car wasn’t idling, which meant Neil was coming inside. Mara grimaced as she turned around. In the six months they’d been dating, Mara had never invited Neil into her room. She’d seen his house; his family wasn’t quite wealthy, but they were very comfortably upper-middle-class, and their home had been decorated with a great deal of care. Rows of photos hung on the walls and cluttered the lace-coated mantels. The furniture had a quaint, homey vibe, and there were bowls of potpourri in the bathroom. It was the polar opposite of Mara’s apartment.
Mara knew Neil wouldn’t like her home, and she’d been hoping to avoid an uncomfortable scene by never letting him see it. Maybe I can head him off on the stairs.
A brisk knock made her cringe. Damn. Too late now. Mara crossed to the door, took a breath to brace herself, and pulled it open.
“Hey, I got your message. Ready to—” Neil paused in the entryway as his eyes roved over the one-room home. Mara’s mattress—a bed frame would have been too expensive—was propped against one wall. A portable cooker, single pot, plate, and spoon sat opposite. The foldable dining table and plastic chair sat below the window, and a cardboard portable wardrobe held her clothes.
Mara felt colour rise in her face. She kept her home clean. Her clothes were arranged neatly and washed often. She’d painted the windowsill with a half bucket of white paint someone had thrown away. But she still knew it was a pathetic living compared to what Neil enjoyed, and mingled embarrassment and injured pride scorched at her insides.
Neil took a step into the room and swore. That startled Mara. She’d never heard anything harsher than fake swears—cripes, shoot, and sugar were his favourites—leave his lips.
“Mara—” He broke off and pressed one hand to his mouth. His voice was thick. “Have you seriously been living here?”
“Of course I have.” Mara crossed her arms defensively.
Neil’s eyes scanned the seeping cracks that ran up one wall and the exposed wires clustered in one corner. His mouth turned i
nto a hard line. “I had no idea—you should have said something—”
“And what?” She knew an aggressive note was crawling into her voice, but she couldn’t fight it.
Neil blinked at her, brows constricted. “You could have stayed with me. I know you don’t like Mum’s home, but we could have gotten an apartment together—”
“I don’t need you white knighting your way into my life and solving my problems,” she snapped. “I’ve been quite comfortable on my own, thank you.”
Neil didn’t reply, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. Her anger deflated like an eviscerated balloon. Crap.
He wasn’t judging her, she knew. He was berating himself for not having helped. Neil was a fixer; the desire to solve problems was as central to his personality as Mara’s love of hot chips was to hers. And seeing a problem he could have fixed, but hadn’t, was agony for him. More than that, he worried about her. Even after six months of dating, Mara still wasn’t used to having another human altruistically interested in her welfare. It unsettled her almost as much as she liked it.
Mara’s pride still stung, but the expression on Neil’s face cooled the burn. She stepped close to him and reached up to lace her fingers around the back of his neck. She pulled his head down until their foreheads met, then she smiled into his wide blue eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry I snapped. But I survived three and a half years without you—remember? And I’m proud that I did. I want to make my way through this world on my own two feet.”
Neil sighed heavily. His arms wrapped around her lower back and pulled her closer, capturing her. She found she didn’t mind at all; his large hands stroked her back, and she shivered at the sensation.
“I know,” he said. “And I admire that. But I could’ve helped if you’d said something.” He shuddered. “Did you even have enough to eat? Crap, no wonder you always seemed hungry—”
Mara kissed him, hard, to stun him into silence. When she pulled back she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Jeeze, no, it’s not that dire. I just hate cooking, and your food is freakishly tasty. Listen—I could have had a nicer apartment if I’d wanted it. But I’ve been saving instead. I wanted my own place. The more money I spent on useless things like televisions and curtains and… I dunno, white-picket fences or whatever fancy housewives spend their money on… the longer it would have taken to buy a house. I was comfortable. Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Neil. I’m finally getting everything I’ve wanted, all on my own efforts, and I feel damn good about it.”
Neil studied her eyes, testing for honesty, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you to that new house, then. Do you need help packing?”
“Hang on a second.” Mara pecked his lips a final time then ducked out of his grip, picked an empty cardboard box off the foot of her bed, and went to the window ledge. She’d arranged Neil’s gifts there to brighten her room, and she swept them into the box in a smooth motion. “Grab the wardrobe, and we’re ready to go.”
Neil hesitated. “You don’t want anything else?”
“Nah. It all sucks. C’mon. I’ve got a somewhat larger but equally sucky house to move into.”
Finally, Neil smiled. It was what Mara had been waiting for, and she felt all of the tension melt away. He picked up the cardboard wardrobe in a fluid motion, braced it against his shoulder, and followed her out of the door. This time, Mara didn’t bother kicking it closed.
CHAPTER EIGHT: Compromises
“Holy crap. I don’t think I could buy a boyfriend as good as you are.” Mara, nestled in the car’s overly large passenger seat, dug through the brown paper bag Neil had given her. She found it impossible to choose just one item. She pulled out both the chocolate and the meat pie and began alternating bites of each.
“There’s some muffins Mum baked, too,” Neil said, not trying to disguise his delight as he watched Mara out of the corner of his eye. “And there’s a really nice apple-and-walnut salad—”
“Dear, sweet Neil. Will you never learn?” Mara found the salad container and smiled at it fondly. “You can eat this later.”
She tossed the plastic packet into the backseat then turned as it made a strange thudding noise. “Hey, what’s with all the boxes?”
“Just some equipment.”
“From work?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Thanks for picking me up so quickly, by the way.” Mara returned to the chocolate with gusto. “Did you have to cut your shift very short?”
“Not too badly. Autumn’s usually a slow time of year anyway, so Joel doesn’t mind me reducing my hours.”
Neil was a partner in his carpentry business and had a small crew working under him. Mara had met the other partner, Joel, a few times and thought he was a little too affable for his own good.
“So…” Neil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
He was trying to sound casual, but Mara knew him too well. She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking…”
“Give it to me straight. I’m a big girl.”
Neil chuckled, and the tension dropped from his shoulders. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I? All right. I know how important being independent is for you. And I really, really like that. But—”
“But you want to help.” Mara took another large bite of the meat pie to hide her smile as Neil exhaled deeply.
“Yeah. We’ve been together for a while. I want to be able to do things for you once in a while.”
Mara dropped the uneaten food back into the bag and folded the top over. “You already do way more than you should. You’re constantly buying me food—it’s going to make me fat, by the way—and you’ve already offered to help with the house’s repairs. I’d say that’s plenty.”
“The house is kind of what’s bothering me actually.” Neil kept his eyes fixed on the road, but Mara could tell he was distracted. The speedometer was hovering slightly over the legal limit.
“Go on.”
“It’s a mess, Mara. The roof is collapsing, it’s full of rotting furniture and dead bugs, and there’s no phone reception. If something happened to you—”
“You checked the house out yourself and said it’s sound. It’s not about to collapse on me.”
“I could have made a mistake, though. What if the floor gives out, or you step on a rusty nail, or the boiled cabbage stalker is still hanging around?”
“Boiled cabbage—you’re mixing up my metaphors, Neil.”
“My point is, it’s at least five hours’ walk to town, and you don’t have a car. If anything goes wrong, you’d be trapped with no way to communicate with the outside world. I’m not asking you to move in with me or anything. Just let me arrange a hotel room for you until the worst of the issues are fixed.”
“You’ve got a better chance of convincing me to eat one of your salads.”
Neil sighed heavily. “Mara—”
“I know.” She squeezed his arm. “You want to help. And I really, truly appreciate that. But I’m also really, truly excited to live in my new house. The damage isn’t anywhere near as bad as you’re making it out to be, and I’m confident in my ability to defend myself if I bump into a geriatric stalker. Please, please don’t be anxious about me.”
Neil worried at his lower lip. The car was coasting nearly ten kilometres faster than it should have been. “Would you be open to a compromise?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Could I stay with you tonight? Just in case.”
Mara tilted her head to one side and tried not to grin too broadly. “A sleepover? That’s not a compromise at all. You’re more than welcome.”
The car began to slow down. “Great. I can stay until eight the following morning, but then I’d have to get to my work. Is that all right with you?”
“Absolutely.” A thought struck her, and she raised her eyebrows. “Will your mother be okay with it?” She quite liked Neil’s mother, Pam, but the older woman held what Mara could only desc
ribe as traditional values.
“I already ran it past her—she’ll be fine by herself for tonight.”
“But we’ll be all alone. Together. It’s absolutely scandalous.”
Neil grinned. “Let me put it this way. I’m her only child and still unmarried at twenty-six. I think I could take up residence in a bordello and she’d turn a blind eye provided it produced some grandchildren.”
Mara had to laugh.
CHAPTER NINE: Home
They left the main road and followed the incline into the country area. Another turn moved them out of the farming land and into a heavily wooded landscape. The road, which had been sealed until then, turned to dirt and narrowed so much that Neil had to pull over to let vehicles driving in the opposite direction pass.
Blackwood’s driveway was a long stretch from any other signs of habitation. Mara couldn’t help wondering what had prompted the original owner to choose that plot of land. She knew that, if she followed the dirt road farther, it would eventually lead into the next town. But Blackwood House had been built nearly halfway between the two points of civilisation and didn’t seem to have any close neighbours.
Her driveway was a little over four kilometres long. The path was potholed and rough, but Neil’s car managed it without trouble. Partway along, green and autumn-yellowed trees gave way to the spindly, grey-trunked monsters that surrounded Mara’s house.
They turned around a final bend and found Blackwood looming ahead of them. Mara dug her fingernails into the car’s seat as an almost electric excitement rushed through her. The house looked even better than she remembered. It was hardly going to win the Cosy Home of the Year award, but it had personality, and it suited Mara perfectly.
Neil pulled up in the scrappy yard and squeezed her hand. “Ready?”
“Absolutely.”
Neil opened the boot while Mara followed the white-stone path to the front door. She took the bronze key out of her pocket and fit it into the lock. The metal scraped, and when the door opened inwards, Mara felt pulled forward like a morsel of food being sucked into a monstrous fish’s mouth.