Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3)

by Walker-Smith, G. J.

  “Sit,” ordered Jasmine, pointing at the chair next to her paralytic sister.

  “No, it’s fine,” I replied. “I’m just here for dinner then I’m heading home.”

  “Where’s Charli?”

  News in this town normally spread like wildfire, but they seemed oblivious. It was a surreal moment. After being kept in the dark for months, I was actually the first to announce Bridget’s birth.

  “In the hospital. Charlotte had a little girl this afternoon.”

  I wish I’d taken a step back before speaking. Jasmine’s shrill squeal echoed through my ear. Wade lurched forward and I ordered him not to hug me. I must’ve looked serious because the hulk stopped and thumped me on the back instead. “Great news,” he beamed. “I’ll bet she’s small.”

  “Babies usually are, Wade,” I replied.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said thumping my back again. “She’ll grow. You can never judge a book by its character.”

  I swear, the man’s head would’ve whistled in a crosswind. Unable to deal with him any longer, I decided to make a run for it and go hungry.

  “Attention. Attention!” yelled Jasmine. I spun around to see her standing on the bar. I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t her first time up there. “This bloke is Adam Décarie and today he has a brand new baby girl!”

  She charged her glass as the whole bar erupted into cheers. Someone shoved a beer in my hand. And that was one of the last things I remember.

  * * *

  I don’t know who called Alex, but I’m glad they did. I don’t think I would’ve survived another round of Pipers Cove generosity. I’d been shouted so many beers that I’d lost the ability to swallow.

  Somehow, he managed to drag me out and get me to his car. “Did you at least get some food?”

  I couldn’t remember. My mind was elsewhere. “Alex, there was a guy in there called Spanner.”

  He laughed, somehow managing to keep me upright as he threw open the door of the ute. “Yes, I know. Get in.”

  “Is he a mechanic?”

  “No. They call him spanner because he looks like he’s been hit in the face with one. He has a brother called Brick.”

  “Is that because he looks like –”

  “No Adam.” I was glad he interrupted. Speaking was a chore. “His name actually is Brick. Apparently his mother had a thing for romance books.”

  “There are strange people in there,” I muttered. “Your people are strange.”

  “The thing is, Boy Wonder,” he patted my shoulder, “if you’re planning to stay here, they’re your people now too.”

  He slammed the door closed and my day was done.

  * * *

  I’d been drunk before. I’d been very drunk before, but I’d never been so drunk that I had to put serious thought into where I was when I woke.

  I eventually figured out that I was laid up on Gabrielle’s couch – and then groaned out loud at the hazy memory of Alex dragging me out of the pub.

  I staggered into the kitchen and hung my head in the sink, half drowning myself in an attempt to feel human again. It was not a good look for a brand-new father. It wasn’t a good look for anyone. And even the freezing cold dousing wasn’t going to cut it. I needed a shower.

  Mercifully, Gabrielle recognised that I needed clean clothes too. She inched open the bathroom door and thrust some at me.

  “Merci,” I muttered.

  “Imbécile,” she replied, pulling the door closed.

  * * *

  Despite the early hour, Alex was in the shed. Avoiding him was impossible. I was relying on him to drive me back to the pub to collect my car – assuming that’s where I’d left it. I downed two cups of strong coffee before venturing out there. When I did finally face him, I was wearing his shirt. I felt like a total dick, for more reasons that one.

  “A bit rough this morning, Boy Wonder?” He barely cast a glance in my direction.

  “No, I’m good,” I lied.

  He laughed, the same evil laugh he’d come out with on the morning he nearly killed me in the surf.

  “If you’d told me you were heading to the pub, I would’ve warned you,” he told me. “Not even you deserved to get caught up in the drama of Jasmine Tate’s third hens night.”

  “Hens night?”

  “Bachelorette party.”

  “Third hens night?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed. “It’s going to be a regular Saturday night event leading up to the wedding.”

  I’d never heard anything more ridiculous in my life.

  “It was ugly,” I said, shaking my head. “I was lucky to escape alive.”

  Alex laughed his way to the rear of the shed. “I have something for you.”

  He lifted a surfboard off the rack on the wall and carried it back to me. “This one’s much shorter than the other one you used, but the core is thick so it’ll sit high in the water.”

  I had no clue what he meant, but nodded. Charli would translate later.

  He laid it on the workbench and I thanked him. If I could’ve come up with something more heartfelt, I would’ve given it a shot. Alex was giving me much more than a board. He was giving me permission to stay.

  He walked back and grabbed another board. “This one’s for Bridget,” he proudly announced. “Gabrielle wouldn’t let me give it to her yesterday.”

  The hard line my cousin had taken was perfectly understandable. The surfboard had to be at least five feet tall. Bridget was barely eighteen inches tall.

  “You’re giving the baby a board?” I asked incredulously.

  “No,” Alex beamed. “I’m giving her a religion.”

  The notion slightly scared me, and I got the impression that was the reaction he was aiming for.

  Raising Bridget in the Cove meant that she’d probably share Alex and Charli’s kinship to the ocean – something I’d never really understood. I’d grown up with an affinity to getting good grades and learning languages.

  I casually looked the board up and down, playing down the terror associated with raising a La La baby. “It might be a while before she can use it.”

  “Trust me,” he replied knowingly. “She’ll be ready in the blink of an eye.”

  I believed him, and I was determined not to miss a second of it. I wondered if he knew that. “Just so you know, I’m here to stay.”

  “Little girls are hard work, Adam,” he warned. “Much harder than getting a law degree.”

  “I’m up for it.”

  He leaned across the workbench and picked up a strip of black plastic. “What do you think this is?” he asked.

  “A cable tie.”

  “Today it’s a cable tie.” He waved it at me. “When you’re running late on a school morning, it becomes a hair tie.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t tie hair.”

  Not that it mattered at that point – Bridget had none.

  “You’d be surprised what you can do. You can splice rope, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” I’d done all the rope work on La Coccinelle, but I wasn’t about to admit that I’d spent a whole day studying a book to learn how.

  “Congratulations,” he praised. “You can plait hair.”

  Alex’s words of wisdom were hardly life altering, but I wasn’t expecting much. Most of the lessons I’d learned from him were silent ones.

  “That’s it?” I teased. “That’s the best advice you can give me?”

  “Trust me, Boy Wonder,” he chuckled. “You’ll appreciate the skill when she goes through her mermaid phase.”

  June 30

  Charli

  Being woken by a kiss is the best feeling in the world – unless you’ve only been asleep twenty minutes after dealing with a fussy newborn throughout the night.

  “Hey,” whispered Adam. “Where’s Bridget?”

  “They took her to the nursery so I could sleep,” I mumbled.

  He swept my hair from my face, settling his hand on the side of my face. “H
ad a rough night?”

  “Not really. You look like you did, though. Is that Alex’s shirt?”

  He withdrew his hand, smiling sheepishly at me. “I was led astray by the locals.”

  He elaborated, but the story was short. I suspect that was because he didn’t remember most of it. If I’d known he was going to the pub in search of food, I would’ve warned him that the bride-to-be had been commandeering it every Saturday night for the past month.

  “They got you smashed, didn’t they?”

  “I didn’t even see it coming.” He shuddered. “Your father had to come to my rescue.”

  I grimaced and smiled at the same time. “Ouch.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” he replied. “It gave us chance to talk.”

  I didn’t ask for details. Whatever was said didn’t seem to have damaged him.

  Conversation soon trailed off but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I stared at him, trying to figure out how to put my thoughts into words. There was so much that we needed to discuss. Yesterday I’d been happy to go with vague promises of a great life together. I’d had other things on my mind at the time. Today was different. I wanted to know exactly how we were going to pull it together. I knew that regardless of what happened from here on, we were done bouncing back and forth. Babies don’t bounce.

  Perhaps predicting the heavy turn in conversation, he spoke first. “I love you so much.”

  “You have to say that,” I said wanly. “I just had your baby.”

  He sat in the chair by the bed and reached for my hand. “No, you had my baby because I love you. There’s a difference.”

  Despite the pretty spin he put on it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Adam had got caught up in the moment. Deciding to stay would’ve happened quickly. But I wasn’t going to dwell. I was used to having him for five minutes at a time. If that was all we were meant to have, I’d deal with it. I’d done some serious growing up over the past few months. As much as I loved Adam, I no longer felt I needed him. I just wanted him. Our future was going to be decided by how much he wanted us.

  Nothing was going to be decided that morning. The same nurse who had kicked him out the night before barrelled into the room and ordered him out again.

  “No visitors before one,” she barked. “Mothers and babies need their rest.”

  “But I’m not tired,” I protested.

  “And I just got here,” Adam complained. “It took me an hour to get here.”

  The nurse could not be moved. “And it will probably take you an hour to get home,” she replied, moving to the foot of the bed. She tucked me in so tightly that I expected to start turning blue.

  “He hasn’t seen the baby today,” I told her, still pleading our case.

  “You may pop in and see her in the nursery on the way out,” she permitted.

  “Gee, thanks,” muttered Adam.

  She pointed toward the door. “Out.”

  He had no choice but to go quietly, but he took his time, just to be annoying. He leaned down and kissed me. “I’ll be back later,” he whispered.

  I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. “What time?”

  “Depends,” he replied, glaring at the nurse. “What time is shift change?”

  “One. Now go.” She pointed at the door again.

  I grabbed his hand. “We’re going home tomorrow, no matter what. Okay?”

  I’d had enough. I had to get out of there.

  He nodded, leaned down and quickly kissed me again. “Fine by me.”

  June 30

  Adam

  I wanted everything to be perfect when my girls arrived home, and I had less than twenty-fours hours to make it happen. Standing in the doorway, looking at the purple nursery, I realised that was a tall order.

  My brother had done a horrible job of painting. I knew he’d done it because he’d gone to the effort of painting his name on one of the walls he’d left half finished. Even more annoying was the way he’d managed to paint over the light switch and outlets.

  Repainting the nursery wasn’t my only mission. I called on Gabrielle for all things Bridget-related. She seemed happy to help, but I knew I had to tread carefully where Gabrielle was concerned.

  I didn’t have a clue how prepared Charli was for her early arrival. Gabi swept through the cottage like a pro, taking notes.

  “She needs no clothing,” she told me. “I’ve been stockpiling clothes for months.”

  She threw open the closet door, showcasing a million tiny outfits all hanging neatly. Even she seemed impressed by Charli’s organisation.

  “So much pink,” I noted.

  Gabi nodded. “Charli was adamant she was having a girl. Mercifully, her hunch was right. But I kept all the receipts just in case.”

  There was no need to hedge bets when it came to the universe. I knew that now.

  “What else do you want me to buy?” she asked, closing the closet doors.

  I shrugged, clueless. “Just get whatever you think we need.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she assured, scribbling something down on her notepad.

  * * *

  Once Gabrielle left, I made a start on the painting. I’d only been at it for a short while when I heard a knock at the door. Slightly annoyed by the interruption, I abandoned the painting to answer it.

  It was Nicole Lawson. I didn’t quite know what to say. Charlotte hadn’t mentioned her since I’d been back. She didn’t look terrified so I assumed they’d sorted out their differences.

  “Hi.” I held the door open.

  “Hey,” she replied, walking in. “Alex mentioned that Charli and the baby are coming home tomorrow.” She set her bag on the table and glanced around. “I thought I’d stop by and see if there’s anything you need.”

  “How are you at painting?”

  She shrugged. “Competent.”

  “Awesome,” I replied, heading down the hall. “You’re hired.”

  * * *

  I’d never spent much time with Nicole before and despite her past misdeeds, I hadn’t really formed an opinion of her. The feeling wasn’t mutual. Before half of the first wall was painted, I’d worked out that she didn’t like me very much.

  “Tell me again why you’re repainting,” she said. “It was only done a couple of days ago.”

  “Ryan did a half-assed job. I want it to be perfect.”

  She carelessly slapped the roller onto the wall, leading me to think her efforts weren’t going to be any better than his.

  “Charli’s not expecting you to hang around, you know,” she revealed. “Her expectations of you are low this time round.”

  I continued painting, refusing to appear affected. “Things are different now.”

  “How?”

  Her interrogation irritated me. The only person I had to answer to was Charli, and possibly Alex when he was in the mood for holding my feet to the fire. I put the roller in the tray and picked up a rag to wipe my hands. “We have Bridget. That changes everything.”

  More specifically, it had changed me.

  “No, Charli has Bridget,” she corrected. “Charli’s always going to have Bridget. You’re only going to have her as long as you’re a good boy. When you screw up again, you’re out the door.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Nicole.” There wasn’t an ounce of sincerity in my tone. “But we don’t need your input.”

  She abandoned the painting and stood, hands on hips. “Charli didn’t want to tell you about the baby, no one did. Your brother didn’t even tell you, did he?”

  I now had a perfectly formed opinion of Nicole Lawson. She was a bitch.

  “What’s your point, Nicole?”

  “The point is, no one has high hopes for you, Adam – especially Charli.” She glanced around the room and sighed. “All this effort is wasted. You’ll be out the door before the paint dries.”

  I stared at her, wringing my hands on the rag while I thought things through. I didn’t want to accept her word
s as being anything other than ignorant and mean-spirited – but doubt was already eating away at me. If things had gone my way in the beginning, there would be no Bridget. At the time, I’d considered her to be a terrible mistake that I wanted erased. I didn’t deserve a second chance. Perhaps Charli felt the same way.

  “I think I’m going to finish this later,” I told Nicole.

  She carelessly dropped her roller back in the tray. “Fair enough.”

  “So you can go.”

  She looked at the floor and smiled. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Adam. I don’t really care about you. I’m just giving you a heads-up.”

  “Go home, Nicole.”

  “I’ve got things to do anyway.” She headed for the door. “I’m going to Hobart to see the baby.”

  I shut her down in an instant. “Not my baby.”

  Gripping the doorway, she turned back to face me. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not welcome there.”

  Her mouth straightened into a tight line. “So it’s started already, huh? Charli’s going to work you out, Adam. For once, she’s calling the shots, not you.”

  I walked Nicole to the door because I wanted to make sure she actually left. I didn’t want to deal with her for a second longer.

  I returned to the task of painting, which wasn’t necessarily a good activity for someone wrestling with the kind of thoughts that I had in my head. It gave me plenty of time to jump to every horrible conclusion imaginable.

  Everything had happened so quickly that Charli and I hadn’t had a chance to really talk. Every plan I’d made over the past two days was my own. I had no idea what direction she wanted to go in, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to find out.

  * * *

  Nurse Nasty had clocked off when I arrived back at the hospital. Bridget was back in Charli’s room, sleeping peacefully in the plastic bucket. I didn’t know which one of them to kiss first. Charli made the call for me, grabbing me as soon as I was in reach.

  “What took you so long?” she asked, pulling me close.

  Her enthusiasm sent a rush of relief through me. It wasn’t the gesture of a woman with thoughts of cutting me out of the picture.

  “I was told not to come back until one,” I reminded her, murmuring the words against her lips.