by Allie Little
Her words set my heart ablaze. It was an admission I was least expecting, especially from Grace. I think back to when we first met, her haughty bravado and proud independence, vastly different to now. My world was usually so present in my mind, also. My battles with Dad. Wanting to please Mum. Being the dutiful son and toeing the line. Even the daily management of the restaurants. But here, with Grace, it all fades away, as if life has a more meaningful purpose.
“Everything’s easier with me, babe. You’ve finally worked it out,” I joke. “But on a more serious note, I’m relieved, because that’s how I want you to feel, and it’s not going to change.” I reach for her hand, dragging her down next to me on the picnic rug. She wriggles across, presses her side against me, lets out a loud, drawling yawn. She nestles into the crook of my neck and I curl an arm around her shoulders. A small shiver escapes as she burrows in, huddling against the breeze blowing softly from the sea.
My phone chirps and I pull it from my jacket.
Dad: I need you tomorrow, son. 11am sharp. Meet me at the office.
“Sorry Grace, I need to answer this.”
She extricates herself, noting my tone.
I finger a sharp reply.
Me: No can do. I have a situation I need to take care of.
Dad: Like hell. Your mother expects it, as do I.
Me: Forget it. Count me out. I don’t want any part of this now.
Back inside the pocket of my leather jacket, the phone buzzes wildly.
“Aren’t you going to check those messages? They might be important,” Grace chides, peering reproachfully at me.
“They’re not important. It’s just my father.”
“Your father’s not important? Why would you say that?”
“He’s … an operator. A scheming, fraudulent, controlling asshole who tries his goddamn best to draw me into his deceitful world. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Be his bloody son.” I rise from the soft comfort of the rug, pacing back and forth in front of the spitting fire. “I’ve tried so hard, Grace. So hard. Wanted so desperately to break away. But he’s always there, pressuring me. Demanding I be there. One day he’ll get caught. He’ll be charged with misappropriating funds and thrown in the slammer. There’s no way I’m going down with him when that happens.”
Grace’s jaw drops, her face the picture of naïve innocence. “His work is illegal?”
“Illegal’s too light a term for it. He steals, embezzles, defrauds. Siphons funds from unsuspecting innocents. It’s wrong on so many levels.”
“Of course, you can’t be involved in that, Riley. And anyhow, you have other priorities now. Your restaurants.”
“And everything I do is completely above board. There is nothing fraudulent or corrupt about my work and I intend to keep it that way.” I stop pacing momentarily, attempting to calm the anger threatening to overwhelm me.
Grace stands up. “Hey,” she says, fisting her hands into my sweater. “Just say no. Tell him no. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“It is. You just tell him no.”
“There’s more to it, though. More that you don’t know.”
“Such as?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do, actually.”
Faltering, I wonder if I’ve said too much. But this is Grace. With her I feel I can’t falter. No judgement. “It’s my mother. She supports him no matter what. I don’t want to hurt her, but this is killing me.”
“So, you have scruples. That’s a good thing. Why does your mother stay with him?”
“He’s always given her what she needs. She works now, as a palliative care nurse. I could never do the work she does. I’d be too … affected, emotional.”
“That explains your take on the world.”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem to understand people. It’s a lovely quality, but totally at odds with the persona you portray.”
Brushing off her comment, I pull her onto the rug again. “Let’s not focus on my troubles. We should eat before the sun sets.”
“I’m totally in favour of that,” she smiles. “You make a pretty mean picnic.”
“Oysters Kilpatrick, bread rolls, and a king prawn salad.”
She grabs a prawn from the salad and pops it into her mouth. “And what’s for dessert? You know I have a sweet tooth.”
“Then it’s lucky I brought the marshmallows.”
“Marshmallows?” she asks with a mouthful, still chewing.
“What’s wrong with marshmallows? They’re a taste sensation, especially when they’re roasted.”
Her eyes light up magically. “I love roasting marshmallows! I haven’t done that since I was a kid. We used to go camping, every Christmas holidays. My dad would build the fire, and mum would relax beside it after dinner. And then we’d roast marshmallows.” A melancholy settles over her. “Dad was our Zen Marshmallow Roaster whenever we went camping. He’d sit there for hours, basking in the warmth of the fire under the stars, roasting marshmallows for mum and me until we turned green with the sugar.”
I grab for her hand, lacing fingers through hers. “I’m sorry if I made you sad.”
“You didn’t. They’re my happy memories, Riley. I was happy until I was fourteen. I never wanted for anything. My childhood was idyllic. Right up until two days after I turned fourteen. We’d just come home from a camping trip a few days before. Just the three of us. It was always just us three. We were so close.”
I squeeze her hand reassuringly. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind. It was nine years ago now. Even so, some days it feels just like yesterday. I’ll never forget that day. It was my first day back at school after the holidays. Gran came and pulled me from class. Held me while I took in the news. It never seemed real, Riley. Not for a really long time.”
I cuddle her into my body. “That’s just hideous. No one should ever have to endure that.”
“No, they shouldn’t. For years, it was all I saw, whenever I closed my eyes. The truck. Their car. The grill crushed up against their windscreen, the rest of the car pummelled beneath. There was no way they could have survived. The images in my head were harrowing.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that. You’re so strong. I’m not sure I could have recovered from the trauma of something like that.”
“You would have. It’s tough, though. After it happens, every morning when you wake, there’s that split second when you don’t remember. Your mind plays tricks on you, when your perfect world still seems perfect. Then when you do remember, it hits you so hard like a punch in the guts. But you have to keep going because you have no choice. It seems so cruel, but life goes on. The very next day you realise that life goes on. It goes on without them. So, you get up and you move. You go through the motions, hoping that one day the pain will subside and you’ll no longer live with it.”
“And did that happen for you?”
“I guess so. But you never truly heal. You’re never completely whole again. You learn to live with the loss. It just hurts a lot less as time goes on.”
I massage her back a while, hoping to ease the painful recollections. “Thanks, Riley. Thanks for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you now.”
I can’t help but grin. “Wow, that’s something coming from you. I’ll happily take that compliment.”
“Don’t joke, Riley. Thanks for listening and for being here. It’s appreciated more than you know.”
Goddamn this vulnerable side of hers, making me feel.
“Hey, look!” she squeals, sitting forward. “Dolphins! Just out there, swimming close to the rocks.” She points toward the rocky outcrop below the summit where a group of at least eight dolphins rise in continuous arcs to the surface, puffing out air. We watch them a while, allowing their grace and tranquil movement
s to absorb us.
“Every day Grace, they’re here at the same time. Just like clockwork. Every day while the sun sets, you can depend on those little seafarers. They will always be here.”
She watches them a while longer, then turns and plants a soft kiss on my mouth. “I really like the sound of that.”
14
Grace
Flipping off the bathroom light, exhausted but happy, I do a double take when I get to the bed. Riley holds out the covers for me to climb under, a mischievous grin illuminating his face. He pats the soft linen sheets, indicating for me to hop in beside him.
“What are you doing?”
He cradles his head with one muscled arm, keeping a steady eye on me. “Waiting for you.” He tosses the covers back and he’s wearing nothing at all on his torso, showing off the most defined abdominals, so I can’t help but inhale a rather sharp gasp of air.
My face begins to burn, especially when I catch sight of my unruly hair in the mirror. That pesky breeze on the summit. My hair is completely windblown, with frizzy bits and kinks sticking up all over the place. I try to smooth it, raking my fingers through the shaggy mess. No doubt I’d look even more like a homeless person by morning.
Riley chuckles, watching me scurry to fix my hair. “Come here. You’re lovely, Grace. More lovely than any woman who’s just spent three hours at the hairdresser.”
“Right, but thanks.” I scoff, unaccustomed to compliments.
“You are lovelier than any woman I’ve seen. You’re beautiful inside and out. You might think that’s clichéd, but have you stopped to consider that perhaps I’m telling the truth?”
“Eye of the beholder, Riley.” I glance away, choking out an appreciative “Thank you,” after a while.
Riley holds out his hand to encourage me into bed. When I take it, he drags me in next to him, cradling me so the curve of my back is pressed against his chest. Riley as the big spoon. I could get used to that. He bends an arm over my body and I snuggle in, held closely.
“I thought we were taking this slow.”
“This is slow.”
He flicks off the bedside lamp, his breath tickling the erogenous zone on my neck. I bite my lip, fighting against turning in his arms and ravaging his lips with my own, having a hard time breathing with his erection pressed up against me.
“We don’t have to do anything. I just need you close,” he murmurs into my hair. Moments later he’s breathing the rhythmic breath of the happily comatose, and he promptly falls asleep.
I sigh, knowing now, for the first time, exactly what I want.
And maybe it’s finally time.
***
I’m woken in the post-dawn hours of the morning, Riley’s voice whispering softly into my ear. “Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up.”
I struggle to open my eyes, feeling the soft caress of his thumb over my cheekbone. Riley is kneeling beside me by the bed, fully dressed in a tight black tee leaving nothing to the imagination, and a pair of faded black Levi’s.
“I have to go, but I want you to come with me.”
“No way, I’m too tired. What time is it? Where are you going, anyway?”
He strokes the top of my hair. “It’s early. I’m heading back to the city. I’m going to end this with my father once and for all. I need to speak with my mother first, though. She needs to know what I’m doing.”
I prop myself up, prising open my eyes. “Your father wanted to meet you at the office today. Is that what you’re doing?”
A determined look passes over his face. “I’m going to meet him, but today’s the day, Grace. I’m finishing it.”
“I’m proud of you. Just hold your ground. I know you can do it.” A wide yawn accompanies the pep talk, and I snuggle back under the covers. “Okay, I’ll just stay here then.”
“And you’re not to leave the penthouse, do you understand?”
My eyes immediately pop open again. “No, I do not understand. I don’t need babysitting. Dan doesn’t know where I am so I’m perfectly safe,” I huff out, feeling suffocated.
“Grace,” he starts, looking even more serious. “I’m not going to force you to come to the city with me, but I need to know you’re all right.”
I point my finger at his face. “Now listen here, Riley. I’m not a child and I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. You are not going to tell me what to do, imprisoning me for your own peace of mind.”
His hands go up in surrender, grabbing for his old leather jacket. “Okay, okay, but I’m calling Gemma. She can come back from Sam’s place and stay with you.”
“Don’t you dare. I’m fine, Riley. I can look after myself.”
He kisses me forcefully on the lips then heads for the door. He turns back one last time. “I’ll pop into Swimmer to check on how Stan and Lucy are doing without you. Hopefully things are running along okay, but I’ll drop by to make sure.”
I smile a sleepy, contented smile. “That’s good, good plan. Off you go, then. See you tonight.” I wave him off with one hand, closing my eyes and rolling over under the fluffy covers.
***
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Nope, not kidding. I’m your bodyguard today.”
“This is stupid, Gem. There is absolutely nothing to indicate that Dan has any knowledge of my whereabouts. And anyhow, what’s he going to do? Steal me away and lock me up in that goddamn weatherboard castle we used to live in at Avalon?”
She shrugs, acting as if it’s not the silliest thing she’s ever heard. “Sam and Jack are on their way over with the kayaks. Sam suggested we kayak over to Fingal Island. We thought it might be a good distraction. Apparently it’s not too difficult, you can walk across when the tide is at its lowest on the sandspit. Although, Sam said it’s not recommended as it gets a little hazardous. A couple of people died when huge waves swept them off into the channel.”
“You’re painting a very enticing picture. Being swept off into a channel isn’t exactly what I had in mind for today, Gem.”
Kayaking wasn’t how I’d planned on spending my day. My plan was more in keeping with a nice gentle stroll along the beach, followed by coffee at the bakehouse, then a kip in the afternoon sunshine on Riley’s terrace lounge.
“Look, I know kayaking’s not usually your thing, but it could be. Come on Grace, it’ll be fun. And it’ll take your mind off Douchebag.”
“For your information, Gemma, my mind wasn’t on Douchebag. It was on …” I stop abruptly, about to give myself away. Damn my racing mind and its concoctions of what could have happened last night, if only I’d given in to my impulses … and if Riley hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly.
Gemma’s faint smile turns into a knowing laugh. “A-ha! I thought so, Miss Grace. He’s finally worked his way into your heart, hasn’t he? You could do a lot worse. For all his bluff and bluster, Riley’s got a big heart of gold. And he’s hot as hell.”
A grin creeps over my face. “He is a little irresistible.” I roll my eyes, amused at myself for denying my feelings for so long.
“As a word of warning, he hasn’t always been so irresistible. A couple of years back, he was a little erratic. He was struggling with the hold his dad had over him, I believe. There was a lot of drinking and playing around. He broke a lot of hearts. He’s stronger though now, especially where his dad’s concerned.”
“I hope so. He’s gone to see his father today, to put an end to all the pressure.”
The intercom buzzes a couple of times and Gemma heads for the elevator. When the doors slide open Sam and Jack emerge, holding hands like two recently hatched lovebirds.
“You guys ready?” asks Jack, pulling on a hoodie over his t-shirt. “You’ll need something warm. The breeze is picking up across the bay.”
“Won’t it be too difficult paddling into the wind?” I ask hopefully, visions of sipping a lovely, strong coffee at the bakehouse while relaxing in the sunshine springing to mind.
Jack laughs. “Not at this
stage. It’ll be a tailwind on the way over and hopefully by the time we return it’ll have eased right off.”
“Oh good,” says Gem. “I was getting excited about our kayaking adventure to Fingal Island.”
Sam giggles, raking her hair back into a rough ponytail. “Trying to get out of it, are you Grace?”
I grab for my sweatshirt and cap. “I’m up for a kayak. You know me. Always up for an adventure.”
Gemma scoffs behind my back. “You’ll love it, Grace. We’ll convert you into a lover of water sports yet.”
Ten minutes later, the surface of Fingal Bay glimmers seductively in the morning light. Jack parks his ute near the Surf Lifesaving Club, jumping out to untie a couple of kayaks from the tray. Gem parks nearby, pulling in front of the aquamarine view of the sandspit to Fingal Headland. Sam drags out a backpack brimming with food, along with a couple of water bottles for the journey, looking positively radiant at the prospect of getting out in the elements. She throws a couple of water bottles at me and Gem.
“We brought the double and a couple of singles. Who’s taking what?” Jack asks, sliding the double kayak closer to the water’s edge. “You coming with me, babe? Come on, we never double up anymore.” He wraps his arms around her, kissing her full on the lips.
“How do I say no to that?” she replies, gazing adoringly into his eyes.
“Yuck, when will you guys get sick of doing that?” Gem asks. “It’s nauseating.”
Sam laughs. “Um … never?”
Jack curls an arm around her shoulders and squeezes her in. “Good, because neither will I.”
“Looks like we’re in the singles, Grace. Are you up to it?” asks Gemma, scrutinising the conditions in the bay.
I glance across the shimmery surface toward the island. How difficult could it be? I’d been out in the kayak with Riley, so I could certainly do this on my own. “Sure, it’ll be fun.”
“Great.” Jack drags the kayaks over the sand, gestures with his thumb at the double. “Get in, babe.”
Shoving the kayak into the gentle current, Jack and Sam climb in. They paddle out effortlessly as I wrestle with mine, wobbling perilously.