Silver Dawn (Wishes #4.5)

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Even Adam?”

  He glanced up and flashed a tiny but genuine smile. “A little,” he confessed. “But there’s no point telling him. I’ll deny it.”

  I laughed, and after a day of immense sadness, it felt good to take a step back for a minute. I could only assume that Alex felt the same way. We sat at the table long after the soup had gone cold, talking about everything except Gabrielle and Jack.

  I told him about Bridget’s fascination with Central Park, my great new position at the gallery, and Adam’s job at his father’s firm. “I don’t think he really likes it,” I explained, “But he’s sticking it out.”

  “He doesn’t belong in New York any more, Charli,” replied Alex.

  I shrugged. “Time will tell, I guess.”

  “Are you still coming home for Christmas?”

  I smiled across at him. “I hope so. I think it’d be great for Bridget and Jack to spend time together.”

  “Gabi would like that too.” His voice trailed off at the mention of her name and in the blink of an eye we were back to square one.

  I stood up and carried our bowls to the sink, purely to avoid the woeful expression on his face. It should’ve been the moment that I came up with something supportive to say, but I’d been shot down too many times for trying.

  “Can you drive me to the cottage, please?” I asked quietly.

  “Just take my car,” he offered. “You can bring it back in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  He lifted his head to look at me. “Do you think things will be better tomorrow, Charli?”

  I wasn’t prepared to promise anything that could backfire on me later. I was married to the king of tactful ambiguity so I’d learned a thing or two when it came to dodging difficult questions. “If you get some sleep tonight, I guarantee the story of the day will be brighter,” I replied.

  Alex pushed his chair back and stood up. I didn’t move. I was too busy steeling myself for another snarky reprimand.

  Thankfully, it didn’t come. He walked over and wrapped his arms around me instead. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head.

  Nothing compared to a hug from Alex. It was strong and warm and honest. After all these years, it was still the safest place on earth – and I wanted nothing more than for Jack to find his way there too.

  24. TAKE YOUR WIFE TO WORK DAY

  I didn’t feel tired until I got to the cottage. Once I walked through the door and kicked off my shoes, the familiar feeling of being home hit me like a tonne of bricks.

  Not one thing looked out of place. It looked exactly as it had when we lived there, only tidier thanks to the absence of toys and the little girl who loved to strew them all over the lounge room.

  I didn’t spend too much time looking around. It made me think of my little family that were impossibly far away from me.

  I found some linen in the cupboard, made up the bed, and spent the next few minutes trying to work out how to make a video call on my phone. I’d promised Bridget I’d figure it out and call her every morning.

  After a lot of messing around, a weird chiming noise rang out. A few seconds later, Adam’s handsome face appeared on the screen and I instantly knew I’d called too late to catch Bridget. He was sitting at his desk in his office, and it wasn’t even 9AM.

  “Hi,” he beamed. “You worked it out.”

  “Was there ever any doubt?”

  He pinched his thumb and forefinger together. “Little bit,” he replied making me smile.

  “Why are you at work so early?”

  Adam propped his phone up on something on his desk and began shuffling papers around. “I had a bit of work to catch up on because I wasn’t here yesterday,” he explained.

  “Where were you yesterday?”

  He stopped shuffling papers and leaned closer to the screen to whisper to me. “Bridge and I dropped you off at the airport and then hit the town.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down making me laugh. “We did the whole shebang – the park, the toy stores and lunch. She has four new girls and a new appreciation for chicken nuggets.”

  My heart suddenly ached, acutely aware that parts of it were missing. “I miss you both.”

  “We miss you too, Coccinelle,” he replied. “How are things in the pretty part of the world?”

  I wasn’t quite sure how to explain, or even if I wanted to. Adam was oblivious to the events of the past few days. I’d given him nothing more than a quick text message from the airport letting him know I’d arrived.

  I eased into it by starting with the good part. Talking about Jack wasn’t difficult. “He’s big for a newborn,” I told him. “Much bigger than Bridget was.”

  His smile brightened to Décarie level. “She was tiny,” he agreed.

  “I love your face, Adam,” I said irrelevantly.

  He leaned back in his chair and straightened his tie. “How about my tie, Charlotte? Do you love my tie?”

  The green and blue striped tie had been a gift from the queen. It was hideous. “No,” I replied. “But you hate that tie too.”

  “I do,” he confirmed. “But my daughter picked it out for me this morning. She also made my lunch.”

  “She did?”

  He grinned again. “Yeah. Her mama told her to look after me.”

  “What did she make you?”

  “I’ll show you.” He leaned to the side and pulled open a drawer before dumping a pink Barbie lunchbox on the desk and flipping open the lid. “Peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches,” he proudly announced.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and an egg.” He wasn’t even lying. He waved it at the screen to prove it.

  I giggled so hard that my stomach hurt, and for a moment, the good pain eased the bad. “How are you supposed to eat an egg?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but she thought to pack a fork,” he replied, holding it up to show me. “She’s very thoughtful, that daughter of yours.”

  The silly long-distance conversation took me all the way home, if only momentarily. The instant I broached the subject of Gabrielle, life got serious again.

  Adam didn’t say a word as I explained the situation. “Things will be better tomorrow,” I predicted. Playing it down didn’t seem fair but neither did causing unnecessary worry. “Once the antibiotics take effect, I’m sure she’ll improve.”

  Adam frowned. “Gabrielle spoke to Aunt Monique after the baby was born,” he told me. “That’s how the family found out he was here.”

  “No one knew she was sick until the next day,” I explained. “Things went downhill quickly.”

  “Did Alex think to call her?” His frown morphed into a concerned stare. “Charlotte, I don’t think her parents know any of this.”

  I sat bolt upright in bed, horrified by the realisation that he was probably right. Alex was in no fit state to deal with anyone. Calling Gabrielle’s parents probably didn’t even enter his mind. “Adam, you need to call them,” I instructed. “Today, okay?”

  “I will,” he assured. “I’ll do it now.”

  “Will you call me back?” I wasn’t ready to let him go, and sounded desperate because of it.

  He smiled again as if he knew I needed to see it. “Don’t hang up.” He picked up the phone on his desk and began dialling. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  Even the longest conversation only takes a minute in French. I had no chance of understanding what he was saying, but he was right when he said it’d be quick. The call only lasted a few seconds. “It went to voicemail,” he told me. “I left a message asking her to call me back.”

  I laid my head back on the pillow. “Okay,” I replied dully.

  I refused to allow myself to think worst-case scenario. I had to believe that tomorrow Gabi would be better and there would be no need to tell her parents anything.

  “Are you tired, Coccinelle?” he asked. “It must be late there.”

  “Nearly eleven,
I think,” I replied. “I’m not sure if I can sleep without you, Adam. It’s been a long time.”

  Adam picked up the phone and held it closer to his face. “I’ll spend the night with you, Charlotte.” The low tone he used was most unfair. “Just go to sleep. I’ll keep working and you go to sleep.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he drawled, stretching out the word. “We’ll call it Bring Your Wife To Work Day.”

  “What if I snore?” I joked.

  He looked to the screen and smiled. “I’ll mute you.”

  I turned on my side, pulling the blankets up to my chin. Adam set the phone back on the desk and began sifting through papers again.

  “You have an answer for everything, Boy wonder.”

  “Not everything.” He was only half paying attention to me as he wrote something down. “Yesterday Bridget asked me why squirrels are so mean. I had no answer for her.”

  He still would’ve tried, because that’s what we do. We were the parents of the most inquisitive, astute and determined little person on the planet. In order to keep her that way, we had to endure mayonnaise sandwiches and questions about mean squirrels.

  It already felt like months had passed since I’d held her in my arms. I took heart in the fact that I had Jack as a proxy cuddler. I also took heart in the fact that I was a stand-in cuddler for him. There was no substitute for being in Adam’s arms though, and after just one day, I was already feeling the loss.

  I brought my phone closer to my face, studying the handsome man on the screen. “I love you, Adam,” I declared. “And your ugly tie.”

  His dark chuckle was quiet and low. “You’re beautiful,” he told me. “Now go to sleep or I’ll mute you.”

  I was too tired and heavyhearted to argue. I propped the phone up on the edge of the pillow next to me and watched Adam going about his working day until sleep took me away.

  25. TOKEN LOST BOY

  Winter in Pipers Cove always seemed to have a tinge of anger to it. The weather was never merely rough. It was punishing.

  The thick grey skies weren’t always a dependable sign of rain. They were constantly gloomy. Perhaps that’s why the Lost Boys were so caught off guard by the early morning downpour.

  I was standing on the veranda checking out the surf when the heavy rain flushed the three little boys out of their hiding spots in my garden.

  “G’day, Charli,” crowed Tyler, shaking his blonde mop of hair like a wet dog.

  His swagger made me laugh. All three of Hannah’s sons were blessed with great confidence, and it never went to waste. In a move reminiscent of a football tackle, Mason and Sean stormed the porch and threw their arms around me. “We knew you’d come back,” beamed Sean.

  Tyler played it a little cooler than his brothers. He chose to hang back on the lawn and get pelted by the rain. “When did you get here?” he asked.

  “Yesterday,” I replied, prising Mason off my leg. “I came to meet my baby brother.”

  “By yourself?”

  I rolled my eyes at the predictable question. “Yes. Adam and Bridget stayed behind in New York.”

  His cheeky grin transcended the rain. “You should leave them there and stay here for good.”

  I ignored him for obvious reasons.

  “So what have you been up to since I left?” I asked, aiming the question at all three of them.

  “We’ve got a slingshot,” announced Shawn, reaching into his back pocket.

  “Leave it, Sean,” muttered Tyler. “Don’t show her.”

  I smirked across at the oldest boy. “Why can’t I see it?”

  Tyler finally escaped the rain and stepped up onto the porch, but only to snatch the slingshot from his brother. “It’s not very good,” he muttered. “Alex told us to shorten the strap, but it still sucks.”

  I held out my hand. “Let me see.”

  After a long moment of deliberation, Tyler finally handed it over. “Don’t use it,” he warned. “You’ll get hurt.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve used one before.”

  My slingshot phase at ten-years-old was short but memorable. After weeks of begging Alex to make me one, he finally gave in. Things went well for an hour or two until I smashed out my bedroom window – from the inside. My father promptly confiscated it and I hadn’t seen it since.

  “It’s dangerous,” claimed Mason. “It hits your face.”

  The visual demonstration he gave was epic. Mason smacked himself in the eye, groaned exaggeratedly and dropped to the floor.

  I turned my attention back to Tyler. “Give me a gumnut,” I demanded.

  He showed no sign of giving in but Sean caved instantly. He stepped forward and handed me a gumnut from his pocket.

  “Don’t do it, Charli,” warned Mason, still flat out on the deck. “It’ll hurt you.”

  I loaded the nut, lined up my shot and let fly. In a move I couldn’t have repeated if I tried, it crossed the yard and pinged against the metal letterbox.

  Mason jumped to his feet. “Whoa! Good shot, Charli.”

  Tyler frowned at me. “Go again,” he ordered.

  I wasn’t keen to give it another shot, mainly because the first one had been a total fluke. I just didn’t want the Lost Boys to know.

  I called his bluff and handed it back to him. “You do it.”

  Sean handed Tyler a nut and there was no going back. He moved to the edge of the porch and lined up his shot. The second he drew back the strap, I yelled at him to stop. “Jesus, Tyler!” I snatched it from him. “No wonder it hits you in the face.”

  His technique was terrible, and downright dangerous. I stood behind him, gave him back the slingshot and talked him through firing it. “Pull it back against the side of your cheek, use the fork in the sling to align your sight.”

  Surprisingly he did as he was told.

  “Now when you release, follow through with your wrist. That way, you won’t get hit in the face.”

  I dropped my hold on him and took a step back. Tyler glanced back at me, looking a little nervous.

  “You can do it, Ty,” I encouraged.

  Whether he believed me or not, he fired. He didn’t hit anything, but he didn’t hit himself either.

  “That was awesome!” The only thing louder than his gleeful yell was the screams of approval from his brothers. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “My dad taught me.”

  “Your dad is awesome,” crowed Sean.

  “He is,” I agreed.

  The Lost Boys fascination with shooting projectiles was carried out completely on the sly. Hannah and Flynn probably would’ve been appalled to know they’d made a slingshot. I wasn’t sure that I’d done the most responsible thing by encouraging them.

  Not only was I a bad influence, I was also a coward. When I caught sight of Flynn wandering across the yard, I snatched the slingshot from Tyler and hid it behind my back.

  I was now a token Lost Boy.

  The rain had stopped so Flynn wasn’t in a hurry. It seemed to take forever for him to reach us. By the time he stepped up onto the porch, my guilty heart was smashing against my ribcage.

  “Hi, Charli,” he greeted.

  “Hey.”

  “Hannah mentioned you were back,” he said. “How long are you in town for?”

  “Not long,” I replied, tightening my grip on the contraband weapon. “Just until Gabi is back on her feet.”

  He nodded and followed up with a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I was sorry to hear she’s not well.”

  “She’ll be fine,” I insisted.

  Awkward conversations between Flynn and I were nothing new. I’d always had trouble dealing with him. Clearly not much had changed.

  “Well, I just came over to get the boys.” He glanced across at them. “Your mum wants you out of the rain, fellas.”

  Sean and Mason said a quick goodbye and scuttled home. Tyler – true to form – played it much cooler. “I’ll see you later, Charli,” he said, slowly ambl
ing across the lawn.

  “Yeah, okay.” I looked across at Flynn. “I’ve got to go too. I’ve got to pick Alex up. We’re off to see Gabi and the baby.”

  “Of course,” Flynn replied. “Give them my best.”

  “I will.”

  If I’d turned around, the jig would’ve been up so like a total dick, I backed toward the door.

  Flynn put me out of my misery early. “Do you want me to take the slingshot with me or do you want Tyler to come back for it?” he asked.

  The frigid morning air wasn’t enough to dull the heat in my cheeks as I handed it over. “What’s the charge?” I asked dully.

  Flynn laughed. “Contributing to the delinquency of minors, probably,” he teased.

  “From what I can work out, they’ve had it for a while,” I told him. “You might want to teach them how to use it safely.”

  I was in no position to be offering parenting advice, but Flynn didn’t seem too outraged. “Hannah would go nuts if she knew. I was happy to let them have their fun in secret.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a dangerous secret.”

  He half waved the slingshot at me. “I’ll keep a better eye on them,” he promised. “This parenting gig is tough.”

  I couldn’t help laughing at the pained look on his face.

  Adam and I had ended up on the parenthood road by accident. Others spend years preparing for it like Gabi and Alex, and some get the whole kit and caboodle at once like Flynn.

  It occurred to me that no one ever perfected the craft. There were just too many variables, and the past few days were case in point.

  “Don’t give up, Flynn,” I encouraged. “One day we might all get the hang of it.”

  26. OH, MICKY

  A good night’s sleep had done Alex the world of good. His mood was infinitely brighter when I arrived at the house to pick him up. He was also less jittery and more relaxed – so relaxed that he took the time to walk around his car and survey for damage.

  “I didn’t hit anything,” I said dryly.

  He leaned down and brushed his hand against the front bumper. “Are you sure?” he teased.

  “Positive.” I dangled his bunch of keys at him. “It handles like a tank, though. The Ute was a much prettier drive.”