by T L Swan
He throws his paper down, drags himself off the couch, and walks out to the car.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going without me,” he murmurs.
“I can’t believe that you don’t want to come,” I reply as I throw Owen his little leather working gloves as he sits in the backseat.
“What are these?” he asks excitedly.
“Your working gloves. I got you some working boots, too, big boy.”
His eyes widen in excitement. “Awesome.”
Cameron frowns. “I don’t want him working on that house.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re going, Cameron, so he can learn that just because his daddy has money doesn’t mean he gets things for free.”
Cameron looks at me, deadpan.
“I want him to be proud of what we build and renovate.” I smile softly up at Cam and he frowns. “This is like the ultimate family hobby. Something that we can achieve together.”
Cameron rolls his eyes in an over-dramatic fashion.
“And you’re in this family, Cameron.” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point.
He shakes his head. “Do you have any shovels packed?”
“What for?” I ask.
“Grave digging!” he snaps. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Your things are already in the car.” I smile broadly.
He looks at me, deadpan. “Did you just play me?”
“Like a fiddle.” I kiss him softly on the lips and he shakes his head.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Tucker.”
“But you love me, right?”
“Unfortunately.” He marches inside and ten minutes later he reappears, all showered and ready with a case of wine under his arm. “I need alcohol if I’m staying in that hell hole.”
“Already packed and in the car.” I tap my temple. “Up here for thinking...”
He raises an eyebrow and points to my sex. “And down there for dancing?” He slams Owen’s car door shut. “My only goal this weekend is to pop that airbed with your body.” He gets in and starts the car. “Get in, Tucker, before Owen and I leave you here.”
“Mom, it’s nearly time to get it started. Come look,” Owen calls in excitement.
I walk out of the barn to see my men’s afternoon handiwork, and I smile broadly. It’s dusk, and we’ve been working all day. I’ve swept and cleaned the barn. We decided to sleep out here tonight. It’s in much better condition than the house is, and we know that if it rains the roof definitely doesn’t leak. The stone wall and floor are both rock-solid. I’ve prepared our beds and sleeping bags, and I’m just finishing with the windows. “Wow.” I raise my eyebrows. “Impressive.”
Owen and Cameron built a fire pit together. They cleared a space, collected rocks, and then placed them carefully in a circle, four high. They have three folding chairs positioned around it, and the marshmallows are front and center with three long toasting sticks ready.
I throw down my window-cleaning rags and take a seat by the fire.
Cameron’s face falls as he thinks. “Do we have any matches?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Didn’t you think of that before you started building this?” I ask.
“No.” Cameron sighs as he drags his hand down his face.
Owen’s little shoulders slump in disappointment.
“Lucky I was a Girl Scout,” I tease. I go to my supplies bag and pull out a cigarette lighter I brought from home. I’ve thought of everything... I hope. I pass the lighter to Cameron and he lights the paper they have scrunched up around the kindling, and it slowly starts to take off.
“Mom, quick take a photo of me and Dad with our fire to send to Jenna,” Owen says, wide-eyed.
Cameron smiles a proud of himself smile.
I dig out my phone. “Great idea, Owie.”
Cameron puts his arm around Owen’s shoulders and they pose as I click away.
Owen then sits on his little fold-up chair and watches the fire, his legs swinging with glee as he smiles from ear to ear.
Cam watches him silently and I can see him thinking. His eyes flicker to me, and he smiles softly.
I think he just had an ‘aha’ moment as he watches how proud his son is of making a fire. He comes and takes a seat next to me on his camp chair, puts his hand on my thigh, and kisses my lips. “I do love you.”
I smile against him. “What’s not to love?”
“Give me your phone, Mom.” Owen demands. “Let me take a photo of you two.”
Cam and I smile as Owen snaps away.
We toast marshmallows and play I Spy, and we make toast with jam, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had a nicer night. Cam and I have drunk a bottle of red and I’m sitting with my legs draped over his while he and Owen play rock, paper, scissors. To be honest, this is the most relaxed that I’ve been in such a very long time. No internet, no television, no distractions. The only sound that can be heard is the sporadic crackling of the fire. I look across the paddock and up at the old house, and I wonder if Gloria is up in Heaven watching us.
I bet she’s smiling.
She told me I would find my Mr. Darcy and I did. I’m marrying him and he’s here on the very same farm, maybe at the very same place, where she sat with her Mr. Darcy.
I look back over to watch my two boys laugh freely, and I become emotional, tearing up.
For the first time in so long I feel as if everything has clicked into place.
My son, my job, my future husband, and this house… I feel like it was all meant to be, and maybe it’s the red wine talking, but at this moment I could happily live here on this farm without one cent to my name.
I have everything that I could ever want right here.
The fire’s dying down. It’s late. We’ve been sitting around it for hours. “Come on. Bedtime, mister,” Cam tells Owen.
We stand and make our way into the barn to change into our pajamas, and I close the door. Owen dives onto his airbed and Cameron stands at the end of the bed with his hands on his hips as he studies our surroundings. “Is this even fucking safe?” he whispers under his breath.
“Oh, yeah,” Owen calls out excitedly. “This bed is sick!”
I giggle as I climb onto the airbed and get into my sleeping bag while Cameron walks the perimeter of the barn with the light on his phone turned on.
“What are you doing?” I call.
“Looking for rats. I don’t particularly want my ear chewed off in the middle of the night. They’re most welcome to yours, though. You could do with some otoplasty.”
I laugh and lie back onto the bed. I glance over, and Owen is already sound asleep. He’s worn out from carrying all those rocks today. After ten minutes of investigating, Cameron slides into his sleeping bag next to me and sits up to shine his light around once more.
“Will you relax?” I sigh sleepily.
“Fucking Amityville Horror. Here we go,” he murmurs. “Who fucking knows what lives in this barn?”
“We do now,” I whisper.
He exhales deeply. “You’re lucky I love you, Bloss.” He lies down. “I wouldn’t do this shit for anyone else.”
I smile broadly with my eyes closed. “I know.”
“So, I was thinking that we just start by taking everything outside,” I announce.
Cameron frowns as he looks at me. His hands are on his hips, encased in his leather working gloves, and he has his new steel-toed boots on that I bought him in secret over the week.
Owen is playing with his trucks on the front veranda.
“What do you mean?” He frowns as he looks at all the plasterboard everywhere on the ground. “What… all this?’ He gestures to the pile of rubble.
“Yes.” I pick up a piece and carry it outside to put it out on the grass to the side of the house.
I walk back inside to see Cameron’s confused face. “What? You think that we’re going to strip this house ourselves?”
“Uh-huh.” I pick up another piece of plasterboard
and disappear back outside before I come back in.
“Ashley, this job is too big for us. If you’re that set on doing this hole up, we’ll pay for someone to do it.”
“No, we won’t.” I pick up another piece and take it outside. “We’re doing everything ourselves, Cameron.”
“It’ll take years.” He frowns.
I shrug. “So? We have years, don’t we?” I pick up another piece and take it back outside, and I smile as I walk back in. He’s secretly having a panic attack over there.
“Hang on, hang on.” He puts his hands onto his hips. “So, you actually think that we can renovate this house ourselves?”
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “Are you listening to me at all?”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “How?”
I pick up another piece of plasterboard. “Not by standing there watching, that’s for sure.” I take it outside and I smirk when I come back in.
“Well, I’m not sleeping in a damn barn, Ashley. I need a bathroom, at least,” he demands.
“You can get the bathrooms done professionally,” I concede as I pick up another piece of plasterboard. “We can sell the other house to pay for everything.”
Cameron looks at me blankly, his hands still on his hips.
“You organize the bathrooms. Find a plumber and pick the tiles and fittings, and I’ll clear the plasterboard.” I pick up yet another piece.
“You’re… You’re fucking serious?” he stammers.
I nod.
He frowns. “Well, where will I find a plumber out here?”
I look at him, deadpan. “You’re a heart surgeon, Cameron. I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to work this shit out.” I carry out the next piece of plasterboard. “Oh, and I want a bathroom out in the barn, too, please!” I call.
“What for?”
“I’m making that a guesthouse so we can have friends stay over.”
“Fuck’s sake,” I hear him mutter under his breath, and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. I come back inside.
“So that’s four bathrooms I have to organize. How in the hell will I organize four bathrooms?”
It’s really hard not to burst out laughing here. “I would start by writing a list and maybe Googling bathroom renovation.”
He glares at me as I continue taking out my plasterboard.
“Well, it’s going to have to wait until after the wedding.”
“If you can’t handle organizing a few tradesmen, just leave it.” I sigh as I pick up more plasterboard. “I’ll do it.”
“I can handle it,” he snaps.
“Doesn’t look like you’re handling it.”
“And I thought the hard thing about marrying you was going to be proposing…” he mutters.
I turn to him. “No, Cam.” I put my hands on my hips. “The hardest thing for you is going to be getting me pregnant and looking after our kids.”
His eyes hold mine, and he smiles softly. “Now, there’s a plan.” He comes to me, brushes the hair back from my forehead, and kisses me softly.
“Renovating a house is easy, Cam.” I look up at him. “It’s going to be so rewarding to have done this ourselves. I know it’s going to be hard, but can you imagine when we come here with the kids? The house will be finished, and we’ll have a pool. They can have horses and motorbikes and know that we did all of this ourselves.”
He looks around the house as he holds me in his arms.
“The whole thing is just overwhelming, Ash.”
I smile. “You know what’s overwhelming, Cam?”
“What?”
“Having a baby on your own. Not knowing who his father is. Don’t talk to me about overwhelming because you have no fucking idea what it means.”
He swallows the lump in his throat and blows out a breath. “You’re a tough chick.”
I smile broadly. “I am, so start moving this damn plasterboard before I hurt you.” I smack his behind. “Now!”
It’s 5:00 p.m. when I finally take one last look around Pemberley. Cameron and I have cleared the family room and half of the downstairs today. We’re exhausted.
Owen has climbed trees and gotten into everything. The three of us are filthy dirty.
We walk down to the barn to get our things, and as Cameron loads himself up and disappears outside I stop and inhale my surroundings.
I love this stone barn. I love everything about it.
A thought crosses my mind and I go outside to look at the surrounding paddocks before I come back into the barn. It’s big enough, sitting at about thirty meters long and about fifteen meters wide, but… no, it couldn’t be possible.
Could it?
Cameron reappears through the doors.
“Cam.” I bite my bottom lip nervously. How do I say this? “I think I know where I want to get married.”
“Where, Bloss?” he mutters, distracted.
“Here. In this stone barn.”
His face falls in horror. “You can’t be serious.”
6
I smile, hopeful. “Completely.”
He shakes his head. “You’re obviously having some kind of dust-induced delusional episode. Get in the car.” He picks up the last of our bags. “Owen, get in the car, please,” he calls. “Where is he?”
We walk outside to see Owen sliding down a tree trunk at full speed.
Cameron’s eyes widen. “Be careful!” he calls in a fluster.
“Look, Cam.” I grab his hand and lead him back inside. “Just listen to me for five minutes, please. Just five minutes.”
He rolls his eyes.
I point to the back of the barn. “We could put a beautiful bathroom at the back for the guests.” I point to the front. “We could put a carpeted clearing at the front where we could stand and get married. There could be a carpet down the center to create an aisle, or we could get married outside under the big oak tree.” I run to the front of the barn as I try to pitch it to him. “We could rent beautiful seats, candles, lighting, and we could have musicians and fairy lights, too. Maybe circular tables with white chairs? We could employ caterers and hire a cocktail bar to put out on the lawn under the stars.” I look around in excitement. “Lots of fresh flowers.” I bounce up and down on the spot. “It could be so amazing.”
He stares at me blankly.
“And the gardens… we could have a working bee out there with potted plants and a decorated entryway. It would probably cost the same as those swanky places you looked at.” I shrug.
He looks around and exhales heavily. “Our guests won’t want to come all the way out here, Ashley.”
“The ones who matter will, and if they don’t want to come then good riddance to them anyway.”
I take his hand in mine. “Cam, I know you don’t like this farm yet…” My eyes search his. “But you will. I promise, you will. And I want to get married somewhere that’s sentimental to me, to us. Somewhere we’re still going to love in fifty years’ time.”
“Marrying me isn’t a big enough sentiment?”
I smile sadly. “Of course, it is.” I look around and exhale. “You’re right. It’s okay if you don’t want this.” I shrug. “I understand.” I smile and pick up the last of our bags. “It’s got to be a joint decision, Cam. This is your wedding, too, and if you want to then we can just keep looking for a venue.”
I walk out to the car and throw the bags into the trunk, then I strap Owen into his car seat. Cameron stays in the barn and I hold my breath. I know he’s walking around, considering what I said.
Please, please, please.
He walks down the pebble driveway and looks around as I sit in the car, watching him.
“What’s Dad doing?” Owen sighs. “Can we get McDonald’s on the way home? I’m starving. I want nuggets.”
I smile as I watch Cam doing his internal assessment. “Yes, baby. I’m getting a Big Mac,” I reply.
Cameron finally gets into the car and slams the door, and his eyes flick over to me. “You�
��re a pain in my ass, Tucker.” He sighs.
“That’s not a no.” I smile hopefully.
He starts the car. “It isn’t a yes, either.”
Cameron
I fasten the buttons on the white shirt I’m trying on. It’s Wednesday afternoon and I’m in a menswear boutique looking at suits for the wedding with Joshua and Adrian. This was the only time the three of us could coordinate the same time off work in the next few weeks. Jenna is dropping off Owen soon.
“Well, what was so bad about it?” Adrian asks through the door.
“You should see this farm, Murph. You’ll have a fucking conniption.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Yep. This suit is good,” Joshua calls out from his changing room.
“Leave it on. I want to see it,” Murph tells him.
“It’s worse than bad, it’s…” I shake my head as I try to find a word bad enough, but there isn’t one. “It’s bulldozer material.”
“And Ashley seriously wants you to do this up?” Adrian asks, surprised.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes as I pull up the suit pants and zip them up. “Something about us working hard for something and it being a family project or some crap.”
“Gray ties first, please,” Adrian calls.
I shake my head and retrieve the gray tie from the chair. “She thinks it will be good for me and Owen,” I reply.
The both stay silent as they dress.
“She says that just because Owen has a dad with money, she won’t let him become spoiled, and she wants to him appreciate non-materialistic things… or something.” I wrap the tie around my neck, frowning as I look at it. “How does this tie go again?” I ask.
“Ha,” Adrian cries. “I love that girl, and it’s a cravat. Hang on. I’ll tie it.”
“Yeah, well, if you love it so much then you get married in this bad version of Old McDonald Had a Farm!” I snap. “I get why she likes it, but seriously, this is going too far.”
I hear Joshua chuckle in his changing room. “Blake loves that song,” he snickers.