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Saving Wishes

Page 21

by GJ Walker-Smith


  ***

  The last period was supposed to be free study. I used it to double-check my passport application. By the time Alex picked me up that afternoon, I was confident that it was flawless.

  Alex parked in front of the post office and got out of the Ute. He was almost at the door before he realised I wasn’t following him. “Are you coming?” he asked, dropping his head to talk to me through the open window.

  “Adam opens the car door for me,” I said, adding a pout.

  “I’m not your date, Charlotte.” He opened the door anyway.

  Valerie Daintree kept us waiting at the counter a long time, sorting mail into pigeonholes, knowing full well we were waiting to be served. Alex’s patience eventually ran out. He thumped his hand on the service bell so hard that it distorted the sound of the ring.

  “Yes, Alex. May I help you?” she asked, finally turning to acknowledge us.

  She was stringing him along for good reason. Alex had once dated her daughter, Sabine. Valerie had high hopes for them but as usual, Alex lost interest after just a few weeks, dumping her on Christmas Eve. Poor Sabine recovered quickly, moved to the mainland and married an accountant. Valerie, however, never seemed to get over it, which explained why she was trying to bump him off with a fierce stare.

  Alex pushed the papers across the counter. Mrs Daintree took her time reading through them. It was excruciating, like waiting for Gabrielle to grade my French homework while I was still in the classroom.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. It’s erroneous,” she said, thrusting the application back.

  Who uses words like erroneous? I’d never even heard a Décarie say it.

  He pushed them back to her, speaking slowly and smoothly. “Val, if you check the details, you’ll see that every detail is exactly as it should be.”

  Mrs Daintree flicked forward a few pages to the copy of the birth certificate, studying it with wide-eyed interest. “Err, yes,” she stammered. “It appears to be in order.”

  Alex leaned over the counter. “I assume that all information received at the post office is confidential and private?”

  “Of course,” she replied snakily.

  “Then I have no reason to think that this information will go anywhere other than the passport office.” He patted the papers with his palm.

  Mrs Daintree’s mouth fell open as if she was going to speak but Alex beat her to it.

  “You have a lovely day,” he said insincerely. He winked at me and grabbed my elbow, leading me towards the door.

  I was glad we got out of there when we did. If we’d been a minute later, we wouldn’t have seen the pretty black Audi driving down the street.

  “Is that Adam’s car?” asked Alex incredulously.

  I couldn’t blame him for being unsure. The sleek black car had undergone some changes. Most noticeable were the huge glittery butterfly decals adorning the side windows.

  I gagged. “Not any more.”

  The sale of the Audi had been rushed through much quicker than Adam had anticipated. His original plan of handing it over just before he left town fell by the wayside once Jasmine started calling him incessantly, pleading with him to give it up early. He was mystified how she got his number. I suspected Nicole, but kept my thought to myself.

  It pulled into a bay in front of Carol’s salon. The doors were flung open. Alex began to laugh. The hot pink velour seat covers, purple dash mat and fluffy thing hanging off the rear vision mirror made it look like the inside of a seedy nightclub.

  Jasmine, Lily and Lisa piled out. The juniors headed straight into the salon, but Jasmine spotted us staring at her.

  “Hi Alex,” she called, ignoring me. “What do you think?”

  “I think I want to scratch my eyes out,” he muttered, too quietly for her to hear. He gave her a thumbs-up and sought refuge in the Ute. I was still giggling when I got in.

  “Adam will cry when he sees it,” I told him.

  “Adam should have known better,” he replied.

  Before he started the car, his phone rang. Alex answered it without checking the number. “Yes Val, that’s correct,” he said formally.

  After answering a few more questions with one-word answers, he ended the call, groaning. “Val’s going through your application as we speak. She had a few burning questions,” he said wryly. “She’s probably in there right now Googling Olivia’s name.”

  “Have you ever Googled her name?” I asked in a small voice.

  He turned the key. “Why would I do that?”

  “Aren’t you curious? Don’t you ever wonder what became of her?”

  “I’m sure she did just fine,” he said, looking over his shoulder as he backed out. “But I’ll understand if you’re curious. If you want to find her, I’ll help you.”

  I couldn’t make sense of his attitude. He’d loved her. They’d had a child together. How could he not be curious?

  I wasn’t interested in finding her. Olivia Fielding meant nothing to me. All of my curiosity was based around her relationship with my father.

  Neither of us said much on the journey home. Once we got out of the car, the conversation would be over. If I wanted to know more, I had to ask now.

  “How could you just forget about her, Alex?”

  He looked at the bunch of keys in his hand. “I’ll never forget her. I see her every time I look at you.” He looked across at me, looking embarrassed by his admission. “We went our separate ways and that’s how it was supposed to go. We weren’t destined to be together forever.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because we were so different, Charli. I wanted a quiet life where I could surf all day. She had hopes of living in a big city and touring with a famous ballet company. The only thing we had in common was the fact that we were hopelessly in love with each other.”

  “Perhaps you should have thought about that before you made a baby,” I snapped.

  “There are reasons why society discourages teenage pregnancy, Charli,” he said, tapping the side of his forehead.

  “Why did you stay with her for so long if you knew it wasn’t going to work out?”

  “Because I loved her.” He enunciated each word like it was a stupid question.

  I let out a disgusted groan. “Trite.”

  “It’s the truth,” he insisted. “You’re so sure I don’t understand what you’re going through, aren’t you? I lived it, Charli.”

  “It’s completely different.”

  “Of course it is,” he said sarcastically. “Because you and Boy Wonder are peas in a pod, right? So similar it’s scary.”

  I hated the condescending tone he adopted whenever he dragged Adam into a conversation. No good ever came of it.

  “There’s no comparison. I’m not about to make any accidental babies,” I hissed.

  “The baby had nothing to do with it. I know that because you’re very young, you’re hopeful that things will work out for the long haul. I also know that you’re going to absolutely hate New York. Adam will win out for a while, but eventually you’re going to have to make a tough decision.”

  “What decision?”

  “You’re going to have to decide when to call it quits.”

  Why would I ever have to do that? I loved Adam. There would never be a time when I wanted to end it. I was certain of it.

  Alex shifted in his seat. “Charli, I know logic isn’t your strong point, but work with me here. Adam is about to start law school. That’s his dream. You have a dream. He has a dream. They don’t match up.”

  Adam had his whole life meticulously mapped out. A career in law awaited him. That was his bliss. None of that was achievable unless he spent the next few years working towards it. My hopes for the future were much more simplistic but just as valid. I wanted to tell Alex that I’d found a way to tie it all together, that we could be happy together in New York for as long as Adam needed to be there. But I couldn’t.

  “Things might change.” My voice sounded w
eak even to me.

  “If you alter his course, you’ll never be able to live with yourself,” he warned. “There should be no compromise at your age, for either of you. You’re both supposed to get what you want. The best you can hope for is that you meet somewhere in the middle later on.”

  “I wasn’t planning to change Adam’s path.”

  “You know you have the power to do that though, right?”

  Ridiculous, I thought, shaking my head emphatically.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Charli. He’s at the point where he’d do just about anything to keep you in his life and for Adam, that’s completely new territory. He’s used to getting everything he wants. He’s never had to work for that to happen.”

  Ordinarily, Alex could go days without saying anything insightful. Deep conversations were a rarity. Perhaps that’s why I was so confused.

  “Tell me what you think I should do,” I muttered.

  “I can’t tell you what to do.”

  That was a lie. Alex was always telling me what to do. The fact that I’d never actually done it was failure on my part, not his.

  “Once you stop being ruled by your heart and start actually listening to what your head is telling you, things will become clearer. There just shouldn’t be compromise at seventeen.”

  Alex’s words burned like acid. I thought hard, struggling to find a flaw in his theory. “I won’t change my mind about him,” I insisted.

  “Love affairs at seventeen are about intensity, Charli, not longevity,” he said gently.

  I didn’t want to hear it. Getting out of the car, I slammed the door as hard as I could. It was childish, and it was the best response I could come up with.

  Alex got out and slammed his door as hard as I’d slammed mine. “Who taught you to run away when conversation gets tough?” he said angrily. “I never taught you that.”

  “You don’t get to take credit for everything.” I stormed over to my own car. Now that Adam had no car, we were reliant on mine.

  “Curfew, Charlotte,” he growled, walking past me to the house.

  I glowered silently. The last word was his – again. That was happening a lot lately.

  Unlike Alex, my beaten-up little car endorsed young love, behaving perfectly all the way to the cottage. I was glad to see Gabrielle drive past as I turned into her street. Desperate to see Adam, I ran to the door, prepared to kick it in if he took too long to answer. Fortunately, he was there before I made it to the porch. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and hooking my legs around his waist.

  “Are you happy to see me or is there some other reason for your enthusiasm?” he asked, murmuring the convoluted question against my mouth.

  I tightened my grip, trying to hold him closer to me as he walked us across the room, lowering me to the white couch and blanketing my body with his. I moved my hands behind his head, knotting my fingers through his hair as I drew him to me, kissing him with my whole body.

  Adam was always better at drawing the line than me. The point of no return was my favourite place to be these days. He pulled away, moving to the other end of the couch.

  “Tell me what you did today,” he said, breathing a little unsteadily. “I did absolutely nothing so you’ll have to share your day with me.”

  It was going to be a long week for Adam. Not only had he parted ways with his treasured boat, he had been prematurely separated from his car. I stretched my legs across his lap, sinking deeper into the couch and trying to think of something interesting to tell him. Rehashing my spat with Alex wasn’t remotely interesting – it was becoming old hat and overdone.

  “I got my passport application lodged,” I said, hoping that was newsworthy.

  His face lit up. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “No, what?”

  “You’re now officially a flight risk.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making me giggle.

  “Where will we go?” I asked.

  “You, Coccinelle, will go everywhere. And then you’ll come back to me.”

  “I wish you were coming with me. We could find a nice deserted island somewhere,” I told him. “Would you be happy living on a beach with me?”

  He smiled, but it was strained. My suggestion was ridiculous, but Alex’s words screamed at me. Adam wasn’t a boy who belonged on a deserted island. And maybe – horrifically – that meant that he wasn’t a boy who belonged with me.

  Alex had the uncanny knack of making me rethink conversations long after the event. Maybe it was a gift, or maybe he’d spent my lifetime perfecting the craft. Either way, alarm bells in a distant vault of my mind were growing louder.

  I prayed it wasn’t common sense kicking in. I’d managed just fine without it so far.

  Travelling the earth in search of the perfect place was the biggest dream I’d ever held. In my mind, my place was warm and sunny. The ocean was the bluest shade of blue and the sand was pure white. There were no skyscrapers, no traffic and no snow in winter. New York – Adam’s perfect place – had all those things.

  Effectively, I had made the decision to cut one dream short one for another. My entire heart belonged to the French American boy with the cerulean eyes. I would want him forever. But my soul belonged to a place I hadn’t found yet and the truth was that when I did, Adam wouldn’t be there.

  I looked across at him. “If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  I chose my words carefully. “When I go on my trip, if I find my perfect place, will you come?”

  Adam’s face contorted as if I’d punched him. He looked to the floor for a long time before his eyes drifted back to mine. “Happiness isn’t a place, Charli. Just be.”

  I stood, and brushed at my clothes as if they were covered in sand. “You didn’t answer my question.” The brushing had become slaps. I was literally beating myself up while I waited for him to speak.

  “I love you, Charli.” I stopped smacking myself. “I would go anywhere to be with you.”

  “But if that turns out to be the place I belong, would you stay there with me?”

  Adam hesitated, making me hopeful of receiving an honest answer. “I would. I guess we’d have to work something out.”

  “What could we work out?”

  “Charli, I don’t know. I guess maybe I’d have to defer school for a while or something.” His tone was rough. I’d dredged up his worst-case scenario and he wasn’t handling it well.

  “You’d do that?” I asked in a tiny voice.

  “If I had to.”

  I believed him and it terrified me. Alex was right. The capacity I had to change Adam’s path was huge. He loved me enough to put everything he’d worked for his whole life on hold – and I couldn’t promise him the same in return.

  “I have to go home,” I said, staring vacantly at him.

  “Why? You just got here. Stay,” he urged. His dark eyes were pleading with me. I couldn’t find my voice.

  I needed time to think. I walked out into the cold air, praying that I’d find a way to deal with the fact that my heart had just waged war on my soul.

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