by Sarah Morgan
She carried on talking. “As women we often feel we have to put our needs bottom of the pile. But why are we less important than others? I love my son, and that love isn’t diminished when Todd and I prioritize our relationship.” She thought about the tangle of sheets upstairs in her bedroom. Had she left her underwear on the floor?
“You two are lucky.”
“Maybe. But we also know it’s important for us to have time together. We make that time. What I’m saying is that your relationship with Jack isn’t all about the children. You matter, too.” She could have said more, but she knew when to stop. She picked up the coffeepot. “I hope you have a good time while you’re here. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel more at home, let me know.” Todd had asked her to be friendly and it turned out not to be hard at all. What she hadn’t expected was that it might feel genuine. That she might in fact have found a friend in Flora.
Flora opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment the rest of the family piled into the room.
Aiden looked half-asleep, Todd was telling Jack about the barn conversion he was working on and Molly was playing with Chase who had managed to find mud in the garden despite the dry spell.
Chaos, Clare thought as she grabbed him by the collar and made Molly take him to the back door to wash his paws. The truth was that family life was a juggling act. She hoped Flora was ready for that.
Jack yawned and immediately took responsibility for Molly’s breakfast.
“There’s granola. You like granola, don’t you?” He paused, bowl in one hand and packet in the other and looked relieved when she nodded.
“But not too much milk.”
“Granola, go easy on the milk. Got it.” He put together Molly’s breakfast with the care of a surgeon doing a life and death operation, which Clare found both amusing and adorable.
Izzy was last to enter. Her hair was scraped back in a messy bun and she was wearing shorts and a strap top. She eyed the empty chair furthest away from Flora, and then with a resigned sigh chose the one next to her instead.
Clare wondered if she was the only person holding her breath.
“Berries, Izzy?” Flora pushed the bowl across the table. “They’re delicious.”
Clare’s admiration for her grew.
She joined in. “There’s homemade granola, fresh juice, bacon, mushroom and any type of eggs you like. If we’re having an active day, it’s important to eat.”
Izzy checked Molly’s bowl, nodded her approval and spooned granola into her own bowl. Then she added yogurt and berries. She picked up her spoon and put it down again.
She breathed deeply and then turned to Flora.
“I’m sorry I was rude. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” Her voice was clear and steady, and Clare felt pride and pity in equal amounts. Pride that Izzy could do the right thing even when she was suffering, and pity because no child should have to go through what Izzy and Molly had gone through.
Todd put fresh, hot toast on the table. “Nicely said, Izzy.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Flora was generous and genuine. Instinctively she reached out to touch Izzy’s hand, and then snatched her hand back, presumably afraid of another rejection.
“So today Aiden and I are going to take kayaks out onto the lake. And also maybe paddleboards.” Izzy took a spoonful of granola. “You can come if you like, Flora. We have life jackets, and I can teach you.”
Clare felt a rush of love for her goddaughter. It was a perfect gesture. She needn’t have worried. The summer was going to be great.
But instead of looking relieved and accepting with the appropriate degree of enthusiasm, Flora sat in silence.
Clare willed her to speak. Come on, she thought. Say yes.
“That’s a kind offer, but I can’t.”
Izzy clutched her spoon. Color shot into her cheeks. “You’re still mad with me.”
“It’s not that.”
“What then?”
The food on Flora’s plate was untouched. “I don’t like water. I’m not good with water.”
“Oh that’s right. You said you couldn’t swim.” Izzy shrugged. “I can teach you if you like.” It was awkward and uncomfortable to watch, but at least she was trying. “It’s not deep where we kayak. You can pretty much see the bottom as long as you stay along the shore.”
“I can’t.”
Izzy put her spoon down with a clatter. “Because you can’t think of anything worse than spending a day with me.” Her voice soared upward along with her stress levels. “Right. I get it. It’s all my fault for saying those things.”
“No. If anything I’m grateful to you for making me take a good look at myself.” Flora’s breakfast was untouched. “You asked me last night how far I was prepared to go to fit in and it was a fair question. The answer is I’m not prepared to go this far. I won’t do this. I can’t. I hate water. I’m scared of water.”
“Because you can’t swim?”
“Because it’s how my mother died.” The words surged from Flora’s mouth. “She drowned. And I was with her. I haven’t been in the water since.”
Shit, Clare thought, deciding that the occasion allowed for a little silent cursing.
Maybe the summer wasn’t going to be perfect after all.
14
Izzy
“How was I to know? Am I some sort of mind reader now?” Izzy used anger to cover up the fact that she felt dreadful, but Aiden knew anyway.
“You’re not a mind reader. Stop beating yourself up. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, though, is it? I was rude last night—yeah, I admit it—I lost it and I’m not proud of that.” And Flora had been the one person, the only person, to stand up in her corner. Izzy had been shocked. She was pretty sure Flora herself had been shocked, too. She wasn’t the type to voice strong opinions and contradict people and she’d never seen Flora and her dad disagree on anything until last night. But she’d stood up for Izzy. “Now she probably thinks I asked her kayaking on purpose to make her feel uncomfortable.”
“She doesn’t think that. If anything she seemed a bit grateful to you. Like she’d had an epiphany or something.” Aiden steadied the kayak and Izzy slid into it, feeling it wobble and bob on the water.
“Yeah, right. Her epiphany was probably that I’m a total bitch. Do you think I’m a total bitch?”
“No. Izzy, we talked about this last night. You’re allowed to blow up occasionally. Keeping all that emotion inside all the time isn’t good. Why are you beating yourself up?”
Because she felt bad, all of the time. Bad about losing her mother. Bad about upsetting her dad, and now she felt bad about Flora, too.
When she was little she’d had a comfort blanket, until her mother had decided she was too old for such things and thrown it away. Izzy had suffered sleepless nights for months afterward. Flora’s kindness the night before had reminded her of being wrapped in that warm, comforting blanket. She’d provided insulation from a cold, hard world.
The fact that Izzy had almost flung herself on her and hugged her was her secret. Thinking about how she’d almost blown it brought on a sweaty panic. She’d been so freaked out by how much she wanted to hug Flora that she’d ended up yelling. And by doing so she’d made sure that Flora would never want to hug or defend her again.
That thought upset her more than it should have done. She didn’t care about Flora, did she? She wanted her gone.
She stared at the lake, wondering what it felt like to drown. And Flora had said she’d been with her mother. Izzy couldn’t begin to imagine that. She thought constantly about what she could have done to save her own mother even though she knew there was nothing. The doctor had said she’d had a time bomb in her brain. But Flora—did Flora feel guilty for not being able to save her mother from drowning?
“Drowning wouldn’t be a good way to die.”
Aiden frowned. “Izz—”
“I’m not talking about myself. Just thinking, that’s
all. I mean, it wouldn’t be that quick, would it? Do you think you know it’s going to happen? Or do you keep fighting, and trying to swim until it’s too late and then you just give up.”
Had Flora asked herself those questions? Been tormented by detail?
She couldn’t stop thinking that Flora had been on her own. No one protecting her.
Aiden rubbed her back gently. “What I think,” he said, “is that you should think about something else.”
“I bet Flora is thinking of nothing else, thanks to me.”
“She seemed fine.”
“That’s because she’s too polite to say what she was really thinking. She should have yelled at me, don’t you think? What do I have to do to make her yell and lose her temper?”
“She doesn’t strike me as the yelling type.”
Which made Izzy feel even worse. “Do you think my dad knows? Would you invite someone to spend three weeks on a lake if you knew they were terrified of water?”
“I don’t know. It depends on whether the person wants to stay away from water or not. Sometimes you choose to face the stuff that freaks you out.”
“Er—did you see her face when I invited her kayaking? She looked the way I did when you made me watch that horror movie when I was nine.”
“I remember. You turned green and threw up.” Aiden levered himself into his kayak, his weight and the movement making the boat rock. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can go back if you like. You can spend the day hanging out with Flora and beating yourself with sticks.”
“No. She deserves a break from me.” And she needed a break from Flora, too. Being around her made her feel bad about herself. “If I go back, my dad will tactfully find a way to talk about college and I have too much of a headache to handle that right now.” She immediately felt calmer being in her kayak. There was something about being this close to the water that soothed her. The lake stretched ahead in all directions. A pair of mallards scooted across the surface, ignoring Izzy, accepting her as part of life on the lake.
Aiden nudged her kayak with his. “Are you ready?”
She adjusted her grip on the paddle. “It’s been a year since we did this together. Can we go to the island?”
“Let’s stay close to shore today where it’s sheltered. The wind is picking up and the island isn’t an easy paddle.”
“Are you calling me a wimp again?”
“No. This time it’s me. I don’t think my muscles can take it.” He pushed off, paddling smoothly, his kayak gliding through the water.
She knew that wasn’t true. He was more than capable of rowing to the island. He probably thought she wouldn’t make it and he didn’t want her to get any madder with herself. She probably should have been annoyed, but in fact she was touched. Nothing in life felt secure or smooth at the moment. There were moments when she was beginning to doubt her ability to cope, so it was true that not making it to the island wouldn’t do anything for her mood or confidence.
She followed, watching his shoulders flex as he paddled. She wished she could keep paddling, just like this, with only the birds and the water to keep them company and the rest of her horrible, messed-up life back on the shore behind her. Everything seemed simpler, somehow, when she was out on the water.
They paddled until the sun started to burn their skin and then Aiden gestured and they maneuvered into a small creek. There, hidden by tall reeds and bulrushes, was a small dock.
“Dad built it last summer.” Aiden clambered out of the kayak and tied it up. Then he leaned down to help her. “We’ll leave the kayaks here and walk. I know a great place. And I have chocolate and some of Mum’s shortbread.” He patted the pocket in his jacket and she laughed.
“Are you ever without food?”
“Not if I can help it.” He held out his hand and she took it, not because she needed his help but because she liked the feel of his skin against hers, and the way he held her so tightly. She was pretty sure that everyone else in her life would give her a big hard push given half a chance. It felt good to have someone so determined to keep her safe and keep her close. She knew she’d never forget how kind he’d been to her the night before. She’d rushed away from everyone and he’d followed her. They’d sat together on the dock until the sky turned from blue to black, until the sun was replaced by stars.
He’d made her feel less alone, and he was making her feel that way now.
“Watch your legs on the nettles.” Still holding her hand, he led the way along a path and after five minutes of walking they left the trees behind and reached the edge of a meadow. It was a sea of color, wildflowers swaying in the breeze.
“This is very cool.” She was about to sit down on the soft grass when Aiden stopped her.
“Wait.” He threw down his coat. “You don’t want to be bitten by insects.”
“No one likes me enough to pay me that much attention.” She meant it as a joke, but saw him looking at her. “What?”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so hard on yourself.”
“Really? I was super rude, and then when I try to make amends I end up traumatizing my father’s girlfriend—I think I have reason to beat myself up, don’t you?”
“No. I think it’s a difficult situation and you’re not being kind enough to yourself.”
It made her feel better that he thought it was a difficult situation, especially as he didn’t even know the worst part.
She sat on his coat, feeling the long grass tickle her skin.
“Do you believe in love?” She picked two daisies and threaded one through the other as she’d done as a child.
“Yes.” Aiden lay back and closed his eyes. “Don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand it. People say they’re in love, and then they get married and divorced. People die and move on.”
Aiden raised himself up on his elbows. “Is this about your dad?”
“I’m just saying, that’s all.”
“But you’re saying it because of your dad.” He took the daisies from her before she could shred them. “Are you asking me if I think your dad loved your mum? Because I’m sure he did.”
“So how can he fall in love again so easily?”
Aiden shrugged. “I said I believed in love, not that you can only love one person.”
“You’re going to have six wives, like King Henry VIII?”
Aiden brushed a daisy across her cheek. “You think that would be allowed? If I had one for every day of the week, that would be seven wives.”
She flipped a daisy at him. It landed on his chest, on the open neck of his shirt where a hint of skin peeped through the V of the fabric. She looked hard at that skin, remembering when they’d swum in the lake in their underwear without thinking twice about it.
Izzy hadn’t felt anything then, but she was feeling something now. Did she love Aiden? Or was it just that he knew her better than anyone? Or was it that she was flattered that he seemed to want her around when no one else did?
He made her feel wanted. Needed. There was a connection between them that she didn’t feel with anyone else.
“Do you think either of your parents have ever had an affair?”
Aiden lay on his back and stared up at the sky. “No. Of course not.”
“Why ‘of course’? People have secret lives, you know.” She lay down next to him on her side, so that she could see him.
“I know, but my parents don’t.”
“How do you know?”
He turned his head to look at her. “Well for a start because they’re always hugging and kissing. Frankly I wish they’d stop. There comes a point where you just don’t want to think about the word sex in the same brain wave as parent, you know?”
“But you don’t really know, do you? What do we ever know about someone else’s relationship?”
“I live with them.” Aiden was ever logical. “If one of them was away all the time, or late home, or covered in lipstick I’d notice.”
>
“Men never notice things like that.”
“I would. I’m observant.”
“What was I wearing yesterday?”
“Blue top. Jeans. Tight. Nice butt, by the way.”
She took a friendly swipe at him, but still she was impressed. “If you ever witness a crime, you’ll be able to draw one of those photofit pictures.”
“I wouldn’t. My drawing is crap. The police would take one look at the page and say ‘you were assaulted by an alien dressed in a Halloween costume.’” He shifted on his side so that they were facing each other. “And your underwear was white and lacy. Except when you jumped into the water. Then it was transparent.”
She gasped. “It was not.”
“Believe me, it was.” He flashed her a smile and she felt her face turn scarlet.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Why would I say something? You looked great.”
Warmed by his approval and flattered by the look in his eyes, Izzy leaned closer to him. She saw that he had tiny flecks of green in his eyes and that his lashes were thick and dark.
She wanted to kiss him, but she was afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. Right now Aiden felt like her only friend on the planet. He was certainly the only person who came close to understanding her. She didn’t want to screw it up.
She hovered, undecided, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
She felt a rush of mortification that he could read her so easily.
“What if it ruins everything?”
“What is ‘everything’?”
“I don’t know.” She gave what she hoped was a casual shrug and lay on her back next to him. The sun was warm on her face. “Us. Our friendship. Our relationship.” Whatever that was, for however long it was going to last. She wanted it to at least last until the end of this vacation.
“What if it doesn’t ruin everything?” He shifted so that he was half on top of her. “What if it makes everything better?”
“You don’t know—”
“Instead of arguing, I have a better idea. Let’s try it.”
She knew a moment of exquisite excitement as his head blocked the sun and then his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and it was definitely the best thing that had happened to her in the past year, possibly in her whole life ever.