Not that Ren wasn’t a master of that already with his past, or me, thanks to my chores of helping on a farm in my childhood, but this was something else.
This was Ren and me in Utopia.
It was how humans were supposed to exist.
I could’ve lived in fruit-picking paradise forever, but unfortunately, our life had a few bumps up ahead.
If I had known what was about to happen, I would’ve prepared myself.
But that was the thing about life.
You didn’t know what to expect until it happened.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
REN
* * * * * *
2020
THE PHONE CALL came on a Sunday.
I knew it was a Sunday—unlike most of my life when I had no idea what day or even month it was—because we’d just been paid for our fifth week of fruit picking, and I’d agreed to take Della out to a diner down the road to celebrate having some cash saved up again. Plus, we hadn’t enjoyed our shared birthday yet, and that tradition was one we did our best not to break—especially as she was no longer a teenager, and I was officially thirty.
I was old.
And some days, I felt it.
Especially when I recalled a TV show we’d watched a few years ago with men who claimed their first million before they were thirty. The show interviewed entrepreneurs and successful business owners, making me doubt I had what it took to be anything more than what I was.
I’d never been number savvy or have any desire to be rich.
I was rich.
I had Della.
But just because I had everything I ever needed, didn’t mean Della did, and that put pressure on me to find a way to be more.
At least we had some cash again—not much, but enough to fill our backpacks with food, and travel in the final patches of warmth before winter arrived all over again.
We were late hitting the road, and we still didn’t have a clue where we were going. I’d tentatively thought of finding another farmhand job or a milking foreman position—something I knew I was good at and paid fairly well—but I didn’t know how to go about finding those.
Of course, those worries became obsolete the moment the phone rang, diverting our journey onto a totally different path.
I had a razor in my right hand and a face cloth in my left, staring into the grainy mirror in our fruit-picking cabin, combating terrible lighting to shave the couple-of-month-old beard that I hadn’t trimmed in far too long.
Poor Della earned red lips instantly from kissing me these days, and I was sick of itchy cheeks when I got too hot from working.
Della looked up from where she sprawled on the bed, already to go in a black flower print dress with her gorgeous hair loose and curly.
The phone rang again and again in her hand, all while she continued to stare at it rather than answer.
“You going to get that?” I asked, swishing my blade in the sink, ridding the hair it had already shaved from my throat.
“It’s Cassie.”
I spun to face her. “Why would she be calling?”
She shrugged. “We messaged last week. She said everything was fine. Just shot the breeze about unimportant stuff.” She bit her lip, nerves dancing over her face as if she didn’t trust Cassie even now.
The phone seemed to ring louder. “Maybe you better get it.”
Swallowing, she shot me a look and pressed accept. “Hello?”
Instantly, her skin eradicated all colour, leaving her white. A hand plastered over her mouth. “Oh, God, Cas. I’m so, so sorry.”
Abandoning my razor, I rubbed off the soap from my cheeks and crossed the room to her side. The tinny voice of Cassie drifted from the phone. She was crying, but I couldn’t understand what she said.
Della’s eyes welled with tears, spilling over and hurting my heart. Clutching her hand, I sat heavily on the mattress as she sniffed and nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll be there.” Shaking her head at whatever Cassie had mentioned, she said firmly with a little wobble of tears, “No, not at all. We’re family. We want to be there.”
Another few seconds ticked past before Della sniffed again and straightened her back. “Okay, let me talk to Ren. I don’t know where we are exactly or how long it will take to get back to you. Just…let me talk to him, and I’ll let you know, okay?” Her eyes shot to mine, then more tears fell onto our joined fingers. “Okay, sure. Here he is.”
With a shaking hand, Della passed me the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
I wanted to ask what had happened, but I had no time as I took the heavy cell and held it to my ear. “Cassie?”
Instantly, her cries became sobs, and the part of me that cared deeply for her sprang into an all-out blaze. “What is it? You okay? What can I do to help?”
I winced, glancing at Della, afraid she’d be jealous or hurt that I’d leap to Cassie’s aid if she needed me. It wasn’t romantic entanglement; it was purely friendship, and the knowledge that I owed her family not just my life, but Della’s, too.
Only, Della just looked at me with adoration and trust, nodding for me to continue.
Cassie swallowed back her sobs, long enough to splutter, “Please come home, Ren. Please.”
Before I could assure her that we would do whatever she needed—regardless if I knew why, she told me.
And broke my damn heart.
“It’s Mom. She died this morning.”
And nothing else mattered.
Not how we’d get there or how long it would take. Standing, I looked for the backpacks, but Della was already ahead of me, flinging open the single wardrobe and shoving our clothes into each bag.
“We’re coming, Cassie. We’re coming home.”
CHAPTER FORTY
REN
* * * * * *
2020
IT TOOK US six days to cross the miles we’d travelled since leaving the Wilsons.
Between paying for bus tickets and hitchhiking, we managed to trade the still sunny skies of whatever small town we’d been picking fruit in for the cooler clouds of the Wilson’s territory.
Della and I barely slept, and when we did, it was in a hastily erected tent with a muesli bar for dinner or something just as quick and easy.
Cassie had called twice since we hit the road. First, checking in to see where we were, and second to let us know the funeral had been arranged and we better hurry if we wanted to attend.
We travelled as fast as we could, even though I still felt bad about ditching Lo and her fruit-picking job after she’d helped us out. I’d broken my honour, and I hated that I’d do it all over again because Patricia Wilson had died.
Gone.
She was the only mother I knew.
The woman who’d shown me that not all mothers wanted to sell their children.
I couldn’t think of her as…dead. It just didn’t compute. It hurt too much.
“She’s been keeping things from me,” Della murmured, her head on my shoulder as the overnight bus trundled us the final distance.
“Hmm?” I opened my eyes. I hadn’t been sleeping, but my brain was fuzzy enough not to follow. “Say again?”
“Cassie. I didn’t want to pry as I’ve been keeping things from her, too. But…now I wonder if she was hiding the fact that Patricia was sick along with all the other stuff.”
“What stuff?”
She shrugged, jostling me a little in the small, squished together bus seats. “I think she and Chip have had a rocky time. Some messages they’re back together, others they’re apart again.” She sighed, deflating beside me. “I haven’t been a good friend to her.”
Moving my arm, I looped it over her, forcing her to rearrange before resting her head on me for a pillow. “The fact that you stayed in touch shows you’re a better friend than me.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’ve thought about her over the years.”
I chuckled under my breath, halting a cough. “I think I have some idea.�
�
“Believe me. You don’t.”
“Believe me. I do.” My hands curled, reliving the suffocating rage and stomach-clenching helplessness when Della ran to David. “You’re forgetting I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Della. I just kept it hidden. Just because I didn’t let on, doesn’t mean I wasn’t in pain when I saw you with another boy.”
“I put you through that just a couple of times.” Her voice turned sharp. “Whereas I lived a constant nightmare with you and Cassie.”
I flinched.
I’d wondered when this subject would come up.
For years, I’d felt the strain between Della and me back at Cherry River. At the time, I’d been too blind and stupid to understand that the discord between me and my tiny best friend was Della’s heart breaking. When she was a little girl, it was broken because she thought she’d lost me by having to share me. And as a young woman, it was broken because she fell for me long before she should feel such things.
Kissing her hair, I cuddled her close. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Little Ribbon.”
Her body stiffened in my hold. “You didn’t—”
“I did. Countless times. I was just too clueless to see it.”
She laughed softly. “I was five and you were fifteen when we first met the Wilsons. We couldn’t have been expected to vocalise how we felt when we had no clue ourselves.”
“You have a point, but I’m still sor—”
“Don’t apologise.” She snuggled nearer. “There was no other path we could’ve taken. Our ages don’t make any difference now, but back then, ten years was an ocean apart.”
“It still doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you. Then again, I don’t fully understand why you were jealous.”
“What?” She twisted to look up at me, her eyes a condemning blue. “How could you not understand? I was obscenely jealous.”
“But you should’ve known there was nothing to be jealous about.” I kissed the tip of her nose, braving her temper. “I remember telling you once that you were it for me. No one else ever came close. You’ve had my heart since you could barely say my name.”
“Ugh, and that just makes me feel even more wretched.” Her face fell as she tucked herself back against me. “Did you know Cassie once admitted she was in love with you? On a ride together. It was one of the things that pushed me into kissing you that night.” She winced, a deeper blush working over her skin. “That was the day of my first period. I didn’t have the courage to tell you, but Cassie…she looked after me.”
“She loves you, too, Della.”
“Not the way she loves you.”
It wasn’t news that Cassie was in love with me. I’d seen it—admittedly too late, but by the time I did, I hadn’t slept with her in a long time. And I hadn’t given it any thought because I had Della, and no one else mattered.
But I also understood why this conversation had happened. Della was feeling nervous.
And to be fair, so was I.
Not just because we were about to say goodbye to one of the best women we knew, but because we hadn’t addressed the past.
Bracing myself, I asked, “Did you tell her? About us?”
My heart pounded for her answer, which didn’t make sense as it wasn’t like I wanted to keep our love a secret, but…Cassie wouldn’t understand.
“Are you crazy?” Della shuddered. “That sort of information isn’t something you announce via text.”
“I agree it’s something she needs to hear in person.”
“I know.” She rested her fingertips on my chest. “But it’s even harder because her Mom just died. What sort of people would we be if we hurt her even more when she’s been hurt enough?”
“Honest people.” Staring ahead, I worried just what sort of shit storm we were about to walk into. “You’re my only family, Della, but the Wilsons…they come a close second. We owe them a lot, but don’t think for a minute I won’t tell her. I won’t spare anyone’s feelings from the truth.”
Even as I gave her that assurance, I couldn’t stop the thread of fear.
John Wilson had sent us away for a reason.
That reason being the town had seen Della and me grow up as brother and sister. Did we still run the risk of being separated by Social Services now Della was twenty? Could I still be arrested for keeping her, even though the crime had no doubt been filed with unresolved cases and not on a local cop’s radar anymore?
Della’s tension slowly crept back, chasing the same thoughts I did. “You said you couldn’t go back. Do you think that still stands?”
I wanted to smile and shake my head and tell her not to be so silly. But I couldn’t because I honestly didn’t know. And not knowing was tantamount to danger.
I coughed and closed my eyes. “We made our choice. We’re almost there. Guess we’ll face any consequences together.”
* * * * *
My phone was almost out of battery by the time we crossed the town boundary, and memories bombarded me of the last time we were here. The night of panic as I ran down streets and investigated houses, thanks to Della running away.
The night she’d kissed me for the first time.
The night everything changed.
Della weaved her fingers through mine as our boots crunched on the road and our bags creaked on our backs. “The night I kissed you…” She gave me a sad half-smile in the pink light of a new day. “I felt something, Ren. I didn’t quite understand it at the time, but I felt everything when I kissed you.”
Bringing her hand to my lips, I kissed her quick. “You destroyed me that night.”
“Would you have noticed me differently if I hadn’t?”
It was a question I’d asked myself before, and even though I would never know for sure—never fully know if I would’ve continued loving Della the way I was supposed to or if she was always meant to be more—now our lives were entwined, it was hard not to believe all of this wouldn’t have come true anyway. Kiss or no kiss.
“I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”
She laughed quietly. “You know, two years ago, you wouldn’t have been able to say that. You would still be hung up on how wrong it was to want me.”
“That’s true.” Looking down the road with only a few more steps separating us from the Wilson’s driveway, I murmured, “But life is too short. Patricia just showed us exactly how short.”
Della’s shoulders rolled in grief. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Me neither.”
“Cassie said the funeral is today.”
I sighed, rubbing the grit from my eyes and exhaustion from my mind. “It’s dawn. We have time to have a quick shower and dress appropriately.”
Not that we had anything appropriate to wear. I didn’t own anything black that wasn’t riddled with holes, and the closest thing Della had to a somber dress was her charcoal-flowered one.
I coughed a little as we traded public road for private driveway. It ought to feel different, stepping back into a place where we’d grown up, but nothing happened.
No bells.
No fanfare.
Just a farm that I knew so well with tractors tucked up in bed and paddocks I’d explored a thousand times before.
The familiar blue and black letterbox proudly stated the Wilsons lived here. A manila envelope wedged in the slot, delivered by a postman who didn’t know the tragedy that’d happened inside.
Della let out a heavy sigh as we crunched on gravel and moved toward the barn where we’d lived for so many years. The barn where I’d had my first blowjob, lost my virginity, talked about sex with Della, and every other nonsensical moment in between.
“Ren?” Della tugged on my hand, removing her fingers from mine. “I didn’t finish saying what I wanted on the bus, but…I don’t think we should tell anyone about us. Not yet.”
I scowled. “It doesn’t matter if we tell anyone or not. They’ll know.”
“How will they know?” The far
mhouse came into view with its beautiful gardens and flowers that would no longer be tended to by Patricia. “People are used to us being affectionate. Nothing has changed in that regard.”
“Oh, they’ll know, Della.” I rolled my eyes at her naïvety. “The way you look at me, and the way I look at you? That isn’t something that can be ignored. It’s obvious we’re not just brother and sister. And besides, I’m not going to hide that I’m in love with—”
“Oh, my God!” a familiar, husky voice cried as the front door slammed open.
Cassie gawked at us for a second, her hair still the same colour of her bay horse, messy and long. Her figure was trim and toned, encased in cream silk pyjamas.
She was older than before.
Time worn, just like me.
“I can’t believe it.” Shadows etched her pretty face and grief gnawed her body. “Ren? Della? You’re truly here.”
Charging from the doorway, she winced and hobbled as her bare feet danced over gravel, then she threw herself at us. “You’re both so much bigger than I remember!”
She clutched us in a three-way hug, both Della and I soothing the girl from our past. The girl who’d made our worlds difficult and taught us so much.
“Cas!” Della hugged her back.
My arms wrapped tight, breathing in a foreign smell of a woman I no longer had any feelings for apart from sadness for her mother and gratefulness for her friendship. “I’m so sorry, Cassie.”
She squeezed us tight, her body quaking as she fought tears. A few seconds passed before she composed herself enough to pull away and smile fake-bright. “I couldn’t sleep. There I was, staring out the window and thought I was dreaming when you guys appeared. At first, I didn’t recognise you.” She nudged Della. “You’ve grown so much.” Her eyes landed on me with a flash of history and heat. “And, wow, Ren. Age has been kind to you.”
I stiffened, but her quick assessment vanished as another tear welled and rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry for dragging you back here. I just…I really needed to see you both.”
The Girl and Her Ren Page 26