“It’s settled then.” I gently squeeze Drew’s hand. The three of us caught in this moment, only two of us understanding it’s magnitude.
“Piers! Where the hell is Harriet? Look, I should have already been gone, I just need the—” Scarlett barges in and skids to a halt.
And just like that, our moment is broken.
My eyes collide with Scarlett’s first, finding shock, before turning to look at Willow, who is still as a statue with no expression on her face.
“I— um. Pardon the intrusion Piers, I wasn’t aware you had. Uh. Guests,” she stutters out.
I clear my throat as I lose my tie, suddenly feeling a little warm. “Yes, well. Willow, you remember Scarlett?” She glares at me in reply.
“And Scarlett, you know Willow.” She nods, pulling herself together and extending her hand. “Delightful to see you again.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Willow mumbles under her breath, crossing her arms in defiance.
“Fair enough,” Scarlett mutters as she turns her attention back to Drew.
“Scarlett this is Drew, and Drew this is my mate and coworker, Scarlett.”
“You look just like him,” she whispers, moving toward Drew as if still stunned.
“Like who?” Drew questions innocently.
“Your father,” she blurts out before slapping a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake too late.
“Scarlett!” I warn just as Willow steps forward and gently tugs Drew along, causing his hand to slip from my grasp.
“Come on Drew. It would seem Mr. Nichols has some...work, to tend to after all.” Her tone chills the room by ten degrees.
“But I don’t want to go,” he whines.
“Let’s go look for more buses.” She focuses on him, ignoring me.
“Okay,” he agrees at the mention of buses.
“Willow, please. Lunch!” I brush past Scarlett, chasing after them, catching her at my office door. “Please, just wait.”
“Fine. We’ll go on ahead to the pub and wait,” she tells me, lowering her voice to an angry whisper as Drew goes to press the lift button. “Maybe you’ll come...maybe you won’t. But don’t start your relationship with him the same way you ended ours, breaking promises.”
And with that, she and Drew get into the lift, and the doors close, once again shutting me out.
Looking over my shoulder, I find Scarlett staring at me, having witnessed the entire exchange.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” I yell at her, slamming my door to allow us privacy.
“With me?” She exclaims, feigning ignorance.
“You. Look. Just. Like. Him?” I grit out. “Really?”
“Piers, it slipped; honestly it did.” She does her best to convince me. But I know all about her poker face. “I didn’t know they would be here, and seeing them, seeing him...I was shocked. Can you blame me? He really looks just like you.”
My heart softens a bit at the mention of Drew. But what she did was insensitive and wrong. Not to mention it probably caused a world of trouble where Willow’s concerned since they’ve not got along since we were kids.
“What have I told you about barging in?” I sigh.
“Harriet was gone. I honestly had no idea they were here. But I was looking for the additional files Anderson requested.” She walks to my desk and begins looking.
“Fine; grab the files, and be on your way. Good luck this weekend,” I tell her, shutting down my laptop and placing it in my bag.
“Good luck? That’s the best you can do? What about the files?” She watches me gather my things. Scarlett is the best at what she does, but she has a tendency to have a flare for the dramatics.
“What about them? Find them on my desk. They should be on the top. Since you’re so capable, as you seem to like reminding me, it should be no problem,” I snip.
“So you’re just gonna chase after her again?” She throws her hands up in the air at me.
“I’m not chasing, not that it’s any of your business. This is about Drew. This has nothing to do with Willow.” I grow more annoyed by the second with her interference.
“Like hell it doesn’t! You always take her side!” she throws in my face.
“It’s not about sides,” I growl as I grab my jacket, anger now coursing through my veins. “It’s not about you or me. Or her. It’s about him. My son,” I yell at her as I walk to the door.
“Open up your eyes and think past yourself for a fucking minute Scarlett.” I slam the door shut behind me.
§
WILLOW
Thankfully, Drew is distracted as we ride down the lift, giving me time to pull myself together.
After all this time, you would think my anger for her would have faded...it hasn’t. No one has ever been able to get under my skin the way she has.
He chose her, not me, and I’m sorely reminded of that, seeing her in his office, a part of his daily life.
With her carefully styled hair, her perfect body and designer clothes, looking every bit the corporate jet setter that I’m sure she is. Making me feel doubly inferior as I stand there looking plane as Jane in a tee, simple skinnys and flats.
But Scarlett, his right hand person, has to show up, looking impeccable, as if to rub it in my face. While I’ve been gone, playing mum, she’s been running the world at his side. Just like when we were kids. Glued to him as if she were his shadow. A long sigh escapes my lips. Not much has changed it would seem.
“Mum, are you crying?” Drew asks quietly.
Wiping my face, I turn to look at my handsome boy with such a tender heart, and I’m ashamed to have worried him over something so petty. “I’m fine buddy, really.”
“You didn’t like that lady?” He’s way too intuitive for his age.
“It’s not that Drew. It’s just she’s someone from a long time ago, and I was surprised to see her. That’s all.” I try to keep my opinions to myself, especially my distasteful ones. I could have throttled her for what she said to Drew, no doubt on purpose.
He seems to accept this answer, and we ride the rest of the way in silence. I try to remember that this is not about Scarlett or Piers nor my feelings for him. This is about Drew having a chance to know his father and dealing with my duties here in London, nothing more.
It was silly of me to think that things would be different. It was presumptuous of me to assume that she was no longer a part of his life. I guess deep down, I knew Scarlett would always have a connection with him just as I’ve had. They are simply in entirely different capacities. Just another reminder to keep my distance.
Stepping out onto the bustling London street, my mood improves seeing my son’s face as he watches the black taxis and the double decker buses go by.
A few doors down, I see the pub that Piers was talking about, so Drew and I head to get a table, which shouldn’t be a problem, considering it’s not quite yet happy hour. But it is a Friday, and some like to start the weekend a bit early.
That’s one thing I don’t miss about a traditional job. As a writer and mum, I work from home. Not just when the mood strikes, as most assume, but excessive hours. Juggling being a single mother and self-employed has been challenging. But thanks to Wendy and my parent’s life insurance policies, we’ve never gone without. We, by no means, live an extravagant lifestyle, one that we could’ve been afforded, but I’ve chose to teach Drew a simpler way of life. Sometimes, being a member of society’s coveted inner circles is a shackle all its own.
“Here it is!” Drew tugs my arm excitedly. “Authentic pub.”
Looking up, I see an aged brick building lined with windows, a gas lantern and a worn black, wooden sign with faded, gold words spelling out the name. “The Ship’s Wheel.” I read it aloud to Drew who looks like he’s about to burst at the prospect of eating inside a pub for pirates.
“Think we will meet any pirates? Argh!” he asks.
“Not sure, but best be on the lookout. You never know.” I play along,
proud of his very vivid and active imagination. I suppose he comes by it honestly enough, between Piers and me. Simpler times.
The bell jingles as we step into The Ship’s Wheel, and the barman hollers a greeting. “Pick a seat, anywhere ye like.” The intoxicating smell of fried foods and good spirits surrounds me. I’ve missed this.
Looking for someplace near the window so Drew can continue his observation, I choose a booth and slide him in first, prepared to scoot in after him.
Before I can sit down, someone bumps into me, spilling a pint right down the front of my blouse. Can this day get any worse?
“Oh shit! How clumsy of me. I didn’t see you there,” a deep voice rumbles. “Here, let me.”,he offers, pressing napkins to my front while I swat his hands away.
“It’s fine, really. Just a bit of lager. It’ll dry.” I shake out my top, a bit chilled from the cold liquid dripping down the front.
“Oh, bollocks! I see you’ve got a little one with you! I apologize for my foul language.” He continues as I reach for more napkins. “How about I buy you a pint?”
When I finally look up, I see a handsome face staring back at me, wickedly handsome in fact. Jet black hair and ice blue eyes. There is something about him, but I can’t place it.
“No thank you,” I reply, and I slide into the booth next to Drew, shaking my head.
“Please, it’s the least I can do.”
“No, really. Thank you, but we’re meeting someone.” I nod across from us and he looks at the empty seat. Understanding dawns on his face.
“Well, in case your someone doesn’t show up, my name is CJ, and if you change your mind, I’ll be at the bar.” He starts to back away.
“All right then, thank you,” I tell the stranger...err CJ.
“You’re welcome, ahhh— I didn’t catch your name.” He is a smooth one, this devil with blue eyes.
“I didn’t say.” I reply and smile politely.
This has caught the attention of Drew who now looks over.
“She’s Willow. I’m Drew. Did you know the big red buses here are called double-decker buses? That means they’re two stacked in one!”
CJ smiles at Drew. “Yes, and did you know that you can take a ride on them, lad?”
“Oh mum, can we please?” His eyes light in excitement.
“We’ll talk about it later.” I tell him to look out the window for more buses. And so he does.
“Mum, it’s Piers! Look!” Following his pointing, I spot Piers walking up to the pub.
“It seems our someone has arrived.” I turn back, and CJ is nowhere to be found. Just as well. There was something odd about him.
“Drew, what’ve I told you about talking to strangers, especially telling strangers our names?” I warn him as Piers approaches the booth.
“What? You’ve told my name to Piers. He’s a stranger, and that other woman, Scarlett. And...” He starts naming a list of people that we’ve met here in our short time in London.
Piers stands at the table looking at me, and I know he must’ve heard Drew calling him a stranger. I can tell by the look in his eyes it did not please him. Well, I’m not very pleased with him either.
“I’ll run up to the bar and put in our order. What will you have?” Piers offers.
“Fish and chips for us both, please. Water for me, juice for him. Thanks.” I manage a smile even though I’m still hurting. This is about setting aside our differences for Drew.
After placing the order, he puts on a happy face and slides into the booth across from us, smiling at Drew. “So what did I miss, lad?”
“Well, let’s see. This is an AUTHENTIC pub indeed. It’s for pirates. It’s called The Ship’s Wheel. Shhh it’s a secret.” Piers is hanging on his every word. “We sat by the window to watch for bad pirates, you know, just in case.”
“Good plan, lad.” Piers praises him and plays along. “And have you seen any unfavorable characters?”
“Just the dark pirate, who wanted a date with my mum.” Piers looks at me in confusion. “Spilled a drink down her top then tried to wipe it up. I know all about spills, happens to me a lot. But I’m sure he was a pirate.” Piers’ gaze flicks down to where my white and black striped top is still soaked in the front.
“Where is this pirate now?” he growls and looks around.
“CJ,” Drew chimes in then, his eyes getting wide. “Mum! Piers!” he exclaims drawing the attention back to him.
“What is it Drew?” I ask, concerned as he looks serious as can be.
“CJ. Don’t you get it?” We both still look at him in confusion, then Piers shifts his eyes to me.
“The man that spilled the pint on me was CJ. It was a harmless mistake,” I explain. He doesn’t look the least bit amused.
“Listen guys! CJ has to be a real pirate. His initials are C. J. that stands for Captain Jack! We really did see a pirate!” He’s bouncing in his seat now, and even Piers can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm and brilliant little mind.
Piers puts his hands to the sides of his head, pulling them outward making an explosion sound. “Mind. Is. Blown. Drew.”
Drew breaks out into fits of giggles. Smiling, I’m watching the two of them while we wait for our food. This day is turning out to be better than I had anticipated.
CHAPTER TEN
WILLOW
There is nothing quite like getting lost in a book, the feeling of being submerged in another world. My love of reading is what inspired me to become a writer, and my passion for art led to painting the illustrations for my books. But this place is where the stories themselves were born.
My Everlend adventures, the memories I tried to keep locked away, bled themselves on the pages in print and watercolor. My mind keeps drifting, back and forth, between the past and present. Trying to concentrate is useless, knowing that Piers will be coming over for Sunday dinner. I let the book I’ve been trying to read fall closed in my lap. I’m so lost in my own thoughts, this delicate line between what once was and what will be, that there’s no point in escaping in a book.
Standing, I walk over to where Drew is laying on the massive woven rug, playing with wooden blocks. His little hands, creative and capable, building castles, towers, and turrets, only to knock them down. Over and over. I adore watching him play. With his imagination so active, I often wonder what he’ll be when he grows up. A dreamer like Piers? An adventurer like me? Maybe an artist? A sailor? The sounds of wooden blocks falling down pulls me from my daydream.
“Look mum! Tower Bridge, just like we saw the other day in town!” he loudly proclaims. I see he’s now using the wooden rectangles to construct a bridge-like shape.
“Wonderful, Drew! You’re so smart. Keep working, and I’ll be right back. I need to help Ms. Anna.” I bend down to place a quick kiss to his head before he can dodge me.
As I’m leaving, the blocks tumble down once more. “Mum,” he calls, stopping me.
“Yes, dear?” Turning to see what he needs, I stop in the doorway.
“Is Piers still coming?” He asks excitedly.
“Yes, he should be here soon.” He grins at my reply.
“Great! Because I need help building this bridge. And I bet he is a great bridge builder,” he explains as he goes back to stacking the blocks.
“I’m sure he is.” I turn once more to go, and he stops me once again.
“M—um?” he sing songs.
“Y—es?” I playfully mock him.
“I know you like blocks too. It’s just, building bridges...seems like guy stuff. Right?” he questions as he looks up into my face, gauging my reaction. I pull myself together and smile before he can see the flash of emotion I’m feeling inside.
“Totally guy stuff, darling.” I set his mind at ease, and he resumes playing. Even if almost everything I’ve done that has been wrong, I know I did at least one thing right for this small boy to have a heart so big, overflowing with compassion and consideration. He was worried wanting Piers’ help would hurt me
. I’m anything but.
I’m relieved they’ve gotten along so well. I’m only saddened that he had to go this long without a father figure in his life. My feelings and thoughts are much like the stacking and tumbling of blocks. The rapid up and down. Who would have thought my present life and being back in London could be summed up metaphorically by child’s play?
I’ve returned to my true home.
Up.
Wendy isn’t here.
Down.
Piers doesn’t entirely hate me.
Up.
What was between us is history.
Down.
It’s like a rollercoaster of emotions.
I’m actually surprised that he agreed to come to dinner since it’s only been a few days since he knocked on my door and a bomb dropped on him. He seems to have cooled off some with us being back.
We had a really great time Friday evening. When we left the pub, he drove us around to show Drew a few landmarks before bringing us back to Everlend. Seeing the flash of red as a double decker buses sped by, or the shiny black taxis, the trademark phone booths, and hearing the bell toll as Big Ben marked the hour, were like jolts, bringing back to life a piece of my heart I thought was lost. Reminding me how much I’ve missed this place.
When Piers was dropping us off, Drew invited him to dinner. Big Sunday dinners were a London tradition that I took to the states with me. It was usually just the two of us, so Drew was very excited about the idea of adding another seat at the table. Piers graciously accepted, and I could tell his delight was genuine. It’s these moments when he lets his guard down, he’s not a suit or a mogul. He’s just Piers.
Spending time together Friday, the three of us, gave me a glimpse of what we could be like as a family. It makes my heart hopeful. But then Drew calls Piers by name while calling me mum, and the illusion is shattered by the reminder that he has no idea he should be calling him dad. I see the pain in Piers’ eyes, and I know I’m responsible for putting it there.
We will tell Drew soon, but we’ve agreed it is best not to overwhelm him.
Happy Ever Never Page 6