Cam twirled her wedding ring around her finger, conflict lining her tight lips. “I think so. We’ve both agreed that Isla and Archie deserve our full attention right now.”
“And Sorcha’s okay with it?” Eiley hesitated. While she felt the same as Cam, content with the gorgeous three children she had, what if she eventually found someone who wanted more? What if, after she put in years of work to loving someone, they realised they didn’t want the same things?
The kids I imagined running around here didn’t used be anyone in particular. Recently, they are.
Warren hadn’t acted as though he might expect more from Eiley in the future. He’d talked about her kids like they were all he’d dreamed of. Like they were enough.
“She wants to be, and I think that’s enough for now. Still feels like I’m fucking everything up, but she’d never force me into it just to make her happy.”
Eiley couldn’t help but smooth down Cam’s fringe, that big sister urge to fix everything rearing its head. She hadn’t always understood Cam, but now, she knew her inside out. She knew that this quiet meant she was afraid. “Either way, you’re a fab mum, Cam, and a lot of that is down to how certain you are of yourself. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. You, more than anyone I’ve ever met, know what you need.”
“I’m just scared that one day she’ll wake up and we won’t be enough anymore,” Cam admitted, her voice cracking.
Eiley rounded the counter to wrap her arms around her, knowing there was nothing more she could say. There was no right answer. Just a lot of muddling through. “I know it’s hard. But one thing I’ve learned this year is that our big, chaotic family won’t let you go through it alone, no matter what happens.”
“I’m really proud of you for coming out the other side of this.” Cam cried into the puffy sleeves of Eiley’s russet-brown dress, leaving smudges of eyeliner that Eiley hoped would come out in the wash. “Sorry if we’ve sometimes made it feel harder.”
“No,” Eiley said, and finally meant it. “No, I’m so, so lucky to have you all.” Instead of wishing that they would stop taking care of her, stop seeing her for her weaknesses, she now only wished she could be graceful enough to accepttheir help when she needed it instead of trying to do it all alone.
From the microphone by Harper’s signing desk, Maggie called that it was time for a reading from the author. Arm in arm, Eiley and Cam gathered around with the others, listening to Harper’s smooth voice tell the story of a princess finding her place in the world, and a soul-shattering love discovered deep in the forest. Obviously, she omitted the parts that might be considered unsuitable for children’s and future mother-in-laws’ ears.
And again, Eiley’s heart thudded Warren’s name through every word. She’d thought she could move on now that everything was righting itself, but attempting to close the book hadn’t changed Eiley’s sense of incompleteness.
She glanced outside at the rain, which had barely stopped since last weekend, since their final fight – as though even the weather wasn’t convinced it was over.
Would it ever be?
40
The following day, Eiley perched on the mossy stoop overlooking the back garden, taking a much-needed break from packing. Again. This time next week, she and the kids would be back in the flat above the bookstore, settling into their old-new routine. She couldn’t wait.
The steam of her tea warmed her face as she sipped, head feeling clearer than it had in a while. Mostly. She thought it might mean that she was happy. Or happier. She wouldn’t say it aloud, wouldn’t tempt fate, but just for today, she could let herself breathe.
Until Sky fell off the aged swing set, of course. She set down her tea and tended to the tiny scrape on his knee with practiced tenderness, using the power of his favourite dinosaur plasters and a kiss to soothe his cries.
“Oh, dear,” Harper crooned as she emerged from the kitchen. Bernard ran into the yard to make himself known, nuzzling his wet nose into Sky’s neck until the tears stopped.
She smiled and turned to greet the guests. She hadn’t been expecting Harper and Fraser today, partly because Harper had overindulged in champagne during last night’scelebrations and had ended the night unconscious in the back of Fraser’s truck with Cam’s, who had been equally as drunk, bra on her head. She had donned sunglasses now despite the overcast sky, wincing at the noise of barking dogs and excited children.
“Shhhh,” she begged them. “Auntie Harp has a banging ’ed.”
“Auntie Harp drunk too much beeeer,” Brook singsonged. He blew her a raspberry and then started chasing Bernard around the garden. Loudly.
Eiley giggled, but was soon distracted by the wicker basket in Harper’s arms. “What’s that? A hamper?”
She assumed it would be an engagement gift until she peered inside to find a stack of yellow helmets, which she confusedly lifted to uncover a collection of toffee apples, fireworks, sparklers, and what looked to be a sticky gingerbread cake wrapped in cellophane. “Oh, no. Didn’t Fraser tell you that we don’t really celebrate Bonfire Night? All the fireworks are a nightmare for Sky, so we’ll just be watching a movie with our headphones on.”
Thankfully, the community’s fireworks display was held on the other side of town near Fraser’s cabin, but some of the bigger bangs could still be terrifying – not just for Sky, either. Bernard always spent the night with Eiley’s fluffy socks tied around his head to block out the noise, tail between his legs.
“Well, these fireworks are silent ones,” Harper said. “Aaaaaaand …”
“And the cake is for you?” Eiley predicted.
“No, actually. It’s all for you and the kids.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Eiley said gently.
“I didn’t. Warren did. Guess he wanted the kids to still enjoy themselves. Not that he’s in love with you or anything. I’m sure this kind of hand-chosen, tailor-made, personalised gift box is a completely routine gesture from our friendly local fire service …”
