Hunter
The house is empty. Willow texted me to say that she was doing some shopping with Paisley, which made no sense. Paise doesn't shop.
Besides, who took them into town?
Ash and Jake are not available, and Tan only has a bike. After Chief Job came to the restaurant, heard our story and got the identities of the attackers, Kyle left with him, and I dropped Joe off at his house.
I didn't expect Willow still not to be here when I finally got home. I'm surprised about how disappointed I'm feeling. It's stupid, I know. I'll see her later. We live in the same house, and we're not glued together or dependent on each other. She can go where she wants, when she wants and with whom she wants. I just want that person to be me and the place to be where I am.
There's something seriously wrong with me.
Until last week Monday, Willow was just some stranger in the pictures on the piano. She was nobody to me. Now she's becoming everybody. I looked forward to coming home and seeing her smile at me... or at Rover. She's always smiling at Rover and cuddling her. Rover never pisses her off.
I want to be Rover.
Piddles storms past me, rushing to the front door with a shrill bark, and I turn from where I'm aimlessly standing in the living area to look at the arch. I came in here to distract myself but couldn't decide what to do, so I ended up just standing here outside the study door, doing absolutely nothing. I'm not even sure how long I've been standing here like a zombie.
I'm completely broken. My batteries have died.
I hear the front door opening and Willow telling the dog to calm down and be quiet. The sound of her voice seems to make the room brighter, and suddenly, it is not so cold in here anymore. Usually, I kinda like the cold. She finally appears in the arch, carrying a shopping bag and her purse, Little-Piddle dancing around her feet.
"Hello," she says, blushing when she sees me, and now I'm afraid that she'll just walk past me again and pretend that I don't exist. I hated it when she did that earlier. I know I deserved it after saying all those stupid things about her kissing Tan and kissing all my friends, but I still hated it.
Why was I acting like such a jerk?
I couldn't even make it up to her during lunch break because she clearly didn't want to be around me. I don't blame her. Seeing her standing here, looking at me, all nervous and vulnerable, I'm having a really hard time stopping myself from going to her and wrapping my arms around her. I fight the urge, using my supernatural capacity for self-control.
Actually, I'm just feeling a little numb in my legs right now; it prevents me from walking. Self-control has bugger all to do with it.
"I brought you something..." I mumble.
Willow narrows her eyes and blinks, glancing at the bag in her hand, looking puzzled. What on Earth does she think I could have brought her that would have anything to do with her shopping?
"Another dead moth?" she asks, frowning.
"What?"
I'm about to explain when small running feet and high-pitched giggles streak from the kitchen right past me to wrap themselves around Willow's legs. She's wearing one of her fluffy tracksuits, making it a bit hard for Frankie to scale her legs.
Willow gives a surprised laugh, drops her baggage and crouches down to hug the boy to her chest. She stands up with him in her arms, nuzzling his neck and showering light kisses all over his cheeks, making happy little sounds.
Now, I want to be Frankie.
"I didn't know you were going to pick him up today," Willow giggles, running her fingers through my brother's soft, curly hair.
"Neither did I, but I missed him."
"So did I," she smiles and hugs the little boy tightly. "I missed you, Frankie."
"Miss Willllow!" Frankie agrees, wrapping his arms strangulation tightly around her neck, making grunting sounds to indicate that he is hugging her as hard as he can. My heart is suddenly doing weird shit in my chest, and I think I might actually cry.
What the hell? I need a beer... or something. Maybe I should go kick my dummy!
"Hey! What have you been up to today?! Where were you?!" I pretty much shout at Willow because I'm apparently losing control of all my normal human functions, such as speech. Willow gives me a startled look and transfers Frankie to one hip so that she can grab her bag and purse again.
Does she think I'm scolding her? She seems nervous now. I try to smile, but she still looks at me as if she thinks I'm about to tell her to go get a whip or something to beat her with.
"I'm sorry..." Oh, hell no! Now she's apologising! She did nothing wrong. "Paisley is having a severe costume catastrophe, we went into town to buy some things so that I can fix it..." she trails off, leaning her head on top of Frankie's when he pushes his face into her neck.
"Where is Paise now?"
"She got off the bus at her stop; she said it was about a block from her house."
"Oh! You took the bus!"
The situation must be really desperate; Paisley hates taking the bus. I'm really trying to look less threatening and more like I'm just asking casual questions because I'm interested. It might be working because Willow's face is relaxing now.
"Hey, don't apologise, you're allowed to come and go as you please. I was just baffled," I try to help her relaxation along a bit.
"Why don't you just put me on the bus on the days we can't come home together, Hunter?"
"Well, you don't know the area well yet, and I didn't want to lose you in your first week here. I was going to give you a map of all the stops and routes and show you how the buses work if you want to use them sometimes to go places... without me. I could do that now if you want..."
Willow smiles, nodding her head. "Thank you, that will be wonderful. Let me just go put these down," she says, walking past me toward the dining room.
"Missy, do you not like getting lifts with the guys... and me? Would you prefer to take the bus?"
She stops and turns to look at me; her eyes are gentle, and there's a soft smile playing on her lips.
"I don't like it when people are forced to go out of their way for me, that's all. I do like getting lifts from them and getting to know them... and you."
♫
Paisley
The sky didn't open and try to drown Briar Cove again. I hang the borrowed waterproof jacket on the hooks mounted on the wall next to the front door. The idea is to sneak into my room because I'm suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.
I don't enjoy the sensation at all.
I wore the first outfit Willow put together out of the shop after I paid for everything. It felt good for a while, but now that I'm in the familiar surroundings of my home, I feel like a freak and a phoney. I'm going to get to my bedroom as fast as I can and take it all off.
No such luck!
I haven't taken two steps away from the front door when Tanner enters the foyer from the kitchen on my left, and Jake comes out of the study on the right. Did they time it? I try to keep my eyes looking straight ahead, where the foyer opens into a long central room divided into a dining area followed by a living area. On both sides, there are two bedrooms with a bathroom between them. My bedroom is the furthest one on the left, and right now, Ash is walking into the living area from his bedroom next to the kitchen.
Why?!
I decide to pretend that I'm still wearing sweatpants and Hunter's hoody and start to walk toward my room casually, but bloody Tanner steps in front of me. He doesn't have the decency to pretend that he doesn't see me. He is seeing me in overdrive.
"Wow! Paise, I thought you were fixing your ballet costume! What happened? You look so friggin' hot!" That is high praise in Tanner-speech. I stop walking to avoid a collision and feel a rather girly smile do weird things with my lips.
"Really? I don't look like an idiot?"
"Hell, no! Wow, seriously, this is great. You look awesome. You look like you, but just more like you somehow."
"Yeah," Jake agrees, squinting at me as if his eyes aren't just marginally bad. He came closer and is assessing me from all angles. "It really suits you. You look great."
Even Jake? I'm starting to feel suspicious now and am glaring from one to the other. "If you're going to mock me, just get it over with."
Tanner smiles at me, and it's the kind of smile he always uses when I'm upset, and he is taking care of me. Tanner is definitely not in mock-the-Paisley mode.
"No jokes, Paise. I love it," he suddenly grimaces and turns his head to look at Ash, standing like a statue just outside his bedroom door.
What?
Jake remembers what he came from the study for; apparently, he was on his way to his bedroom next to the study, and Tanner runs back into the kitchen because he doesn't remember where he was going and something is happening to one of his creations.
I slowly cross the space to Asher, holding my shopping bag protectively pressed against my stomach.
"Do you hate it?" I ask, stopping in front of him.
He smiles and runs his fingers over my hair to my cheek and, from there, over my lips to my chin. His eyes have gone black and unreadable, as they sometimes do when he is feeling too many things to handle.
"You are beautiful."
I drop my bag and take a step forward to wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his lower chest. His heart is beating too fast. I hold him closer, suddenly afraid and feel his arms wrap around me. Whenever I hear Asher's heartbeat, the fear of losing him intensifies to a level where my body cannot contain it.
I cannot do this anymore.
I drop my arms from around him and slip from his embrace, grabbing my bag and making a run for my bedroom. He follows me, closing the door behind him. Apparently, he doesn't care that I want to be alone and as far away from him as I can get because my heart is starting to tear inside me again.
"I love how you're starting to experiment with things that express who you are. I love that you're embracing your beauty. I just... Why? Why now, Pay? Why are you..." his voice cracks, and I turn to look at him, letting my bag slip from my fingers. He is afraid too.
"You're leaving, Ashy. I need to be stronger. I need to find out who I am without you."
"You can't be beautiful, strong and yourself with me?"
"You're leaving; you made that very clear. I thought we should love each other as much as we can while we can, but I don't think that anymore. I think I need to get used to you not being here while you're still here, or it will be too much to handle. I need to move on now. I need to find someone else to love, and I need to look my best for that."
I have no idea what I'm saying!
Half of it is true, but I have no desire to love someone else ever again. I can see how much my words are hurting Asher, but I'm digging in my heels. This is either a last desperate attempt to make him realise that he cannot leave, or I really believe what I'm saying about needing to get used to him not being here while he is still here.
I don't know anymore.
"Pay..." he chokes, fighting back tears. If he cries, I'm dying right where I stand. I cannot do this; I have to, but I cannot.
"I'm breaking up with you... We are now best friends again, but I guess that will change too... soon...."
Clenching my teeth, I dash past him and leave my room to go lock myself in our bathroom.
♫
Willow
It is a rather strange phenomenon to find myself lying on my stomach on the living room rug, studying a map of Briar Cove with Hunter.
Paisley helped me install the transport app on my phone while we were sitting on the bus coming home. There wasn't enough time for her to do more than that. I was going to try to figure it out myself and ask for her help tomorrow if I didn't manage, but Hunter now showed me how it works and how to find the correct bus for each route. It is really not complicated at all. Briar Cove is not that big.
Almost the entire time we've been lying here discussing the map and the app, Frankie has been horse riding on Hunter's back, snuggling between us, playing the drum on our bottoms and trying to steal my bunny slippers and Hunter's socks. We both intermittently cuddle him and play with him.
"You're obviously free to use the bus if you want to, but we like giving you lifts. I like it because it makes me feel useful, and I like hanging out with you," Hunter says, sitting up and folding the map, satisfied that I now know all about Briar Cove's public transport system.
"I like hanging out with you too, whether you're being useful or not," I smile, feeling a blush crawl up my cheeks, heating my face when he turns his eyes on me, a slight smile touching his lips.
"Mamma!" Frankie yells when Little-Piddle runs to the front door, barking in welcome. He takes off after the dog, and Hunter and I slowly rise to our feet, waiting for our parents to enter the house.
It is a noisy homecoming, and the house instantly starts to heat up with the warmth of family love. Aunt Beth nearly kills the three of us with her hugs and kisses, making my mother's much more demure greetings seem almost lifeless.
It's not, though; I can see that she is happy to see us and her hugs, though much more reserved, are filled with warmth.
Something is wrong, though; she is avoiding my eyes and looks almost ill. Probably to hide this, she eagerly volunteers to help Uncle Ryan with the take-out food when he shouts general greetings, discarding some of the packages in Hunter's arms while charging to the kitchen.
We gather in the kitchen, and the Drakes are all talking and laughing virtually simultaneously, Uncle Ryan hugging Hunter and me once his hands are free. He scoops Frankie up, and the two have a happy conversation about doggies, Ama and toy cars. Hunter eventually leaves to fetch the luggage from the car, and I am not surprised to see my mother slip out of the kitchen after helping to unpack all the take-out containers.
I am not going to let her do this!
She has a way of retreating into herself and hurting in silence, away from everybody. Something happened to upset her, and I am not going to allow her to withdraw and hurt alone, by herself, ever again! We are starting a new life here, which means new habits. Besides, whatever happened could possibly have a profound effect on my life as well. I need to know. I need to understand. Not knowing and not understanding is frightening.
She's about to close her bedroom door behind her and lets out a startled yelp when she finds me in her way.
"Willow, I just.. I... I need to..."
"I love what you did with your hair, Mommy," I say, entering her room and closing the door behind me.
"Oh," she gives a wobbly smile and touches her soft spirals. "Thank you."
"Did something bad happen? Are we in trouble again?"
♫
Becca
When has Willow become this confident and direct? The girl standing before me is still respectful and gentle, but she is a far cry from the timid, nervous creature I am used to. Why would she think that we are in trouble?
I am the only one in trouble. Very personal trouble.
Devan sent an update on the group chat, saying that his mother is out of danger and that the tests only picked up minor, treatable problems; she's being transferred to the clinic in Thunder Ridge today. The news was a relief, but seeing his name in the chat and reading the words he typed suddenly made my head swim, and my heart beat too fast.
I hurriedly sent a reply confirming my joy at the news and buried my phone deep in my handbag, as if I was afraid that the man would suddenly materialize from the message and join us in the car.
Our journey was long, and I slept in the car for some of it. We had a relaxing lunch and a nice refreshing walk in an apple orchard. It was lovely, and last night eventually started to feel like it happened to someone else in a dimension many light-years away.
I was startled when I entered the house, saw Willow and Hunter standing together in the living room and felt a rush of guilt so intense I nearly drowned in it. I've been concerned about trusting them alone here at home, worried about teenage urges and peer pressure and all kinds of possible problems, when, in fact, I am the one who could not be trusted with my urges.
Everything I felt early this morning came rushing back with a vengeance. I am so ashamed of myself, and I am such a hypocrite!
How can I ever look Willow in the eye again?
Right now, she's standing in front of me, and she is worried, waiting for an answer. I owe her one. I shrug out of my warm jacket and hang it on the graceful wooden coat tree near my bedroom door.
"No, Sweet Pea," I say, my back to her, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. "Nothing bad happened, and we're definitely not in trouble."
Finally able to trust my voice and my face, I turn to look at her again. She's staring at me with wide, innocent eyes, her face filled with concern.
"I had a wonderful time at the conference. I learned so much, and Uncle Ryan and I made quite a few new connections."
"I'm really glad to hear that, Mommy, but you look awfully upset."
"Oh, no!" I say, but I'm choking up again, looking into those wide eyes. Guilt is making me feel physically ill. "I'm just exhausted."
"Didn't you sleep well?"
I can feel the colour of my face intensifying and grasp around for something to say that would not be a complete lie.
"I... went to sleep too late, that's all."
Willow doesn't seem to be satisfied by my answer; her brow is furrowing, her eyes sliding from my face to her shoes.
"Were... were you worried about me?" she whispers, and I cross the small space between us to place my hands on her shoulders.
"I assure you that I was only worried the appropriate amount; I wasn't fretting or stressing or driving myself and everybody around me crazy. I promise."
Willow lifts her eyes to look into mine, and there I go, blushing again. I was driving myself crazy, but not out of worry about my daughter. I am so ashamed. I behaved like a brazen hussy. What would Willow think of me if she found out? My heartbeat is speeding up, and I really need to be by myself now before I blurt out things I shouldn't say. Possibly confessing my sordid sins to my innocent daughter.
"I really hope that is true, Mommy, because, to be honest, I cannot carry your guilt and concern for me anymore." She seems startled by her own words, words that brought me back from the edge of panic. She has never been this direct before. She clearly regrets being so forthright now.
"What do you mean, Honey?"
"Nothing," she scoffs, trying to smile, suddenly looking ready to leave my room. I take her hand and pull her towards my bed so that we can sit.
"Please, Sweet Pea, tell me what you meant."
Willow plays with my fingers, clearly uncertain now that she'd spoken her mind.
"I saw how much you've suffered for my sake, and for some reason, you blame yourself for everything. For my father dying, Grandmother's strictness even for her death and Rupert Wentworth kicking us out of the house. You're right about only one thing that I've heard you say many times, and that's that it would've been better if you called Aunt Beth right away, and we came here the day we left Mount Sovereign.
"But Mommy, I don't blame you that you didn't. I know how hard it is to ask for help, and you were trying to take care of me. You were trying! You're not to blame for anything that happened, and because of that fact, I find your guilt exhausting. I've always found it exhausting, especially after hearing your father say that..."
Willow stops talking and wipes at the tears that accumulated and slipped from her eyes. She clearly regrets saying so much, and I feel like I've been doused in ice water. She heard what my father said to me at my mother's funeral! I didn't know that...
"Oh, Sweet Pea, please forget about what your grandfather said. He was just hurting and-"
"Missing you, his little girl. He was right, though. You could've had a full life with more babies of your own. You could've married someone as wonderful as Uncle Ryan... Instead, you stayed to keep an eye on me.
"I know about all your arguments with Grandmother when she was being too hard on me, and I know how she treated you during those arguments. They still helped, you know? It made her ease up. What on Earth do you have to feel guilty about? You did everything you could, and you were virtually alone."
"Willow..." I don't know what to say to that.
"I feel guilty too, you know? All your sacrifices are like scars in my heart, like stones in my stomach. You did what you believed you had to do to take care of your daughter. Well, Mommy, as your daughter, I've always wanted to see you happy more than anything else. Knowing that my existence kept you from that was... is too much..."
I never realised how much of a burden my presence in that house was to Willow. How much she blames herself for my pain.
"What a fine pair we are, Willow," I sob, pulling her into my arms. "We should write a book together: The art of blaming yourself for things you have no control over."
Willow laughs, sniffing against my shoulder. "What genre will it fall under, Mommy? Comedy of errors, tragedy or just pure stupidity?"
I laugh too, hugging her closer.
"I don't know, Honey, and I don't know how long it will take to get rid of all this guilt. Maybe we just need to be honest with each other more often." I pull away to look at her sweet face. "Thank you for telling me all this, Sweet Pea..."
"Mommy, I didn't tell you to hurt you; I told you because I want to start a new life, one without all that dead baggage. One where you don't feel guilty and worry about me anymore. One where you do things that make you happy for a change."
I smile, stroking loose hair from her cheeks.
"I'll always worry about you, Sweet Pea; I'm your mother; it comes with the birth certificate. Nothing to be done about that. But I promise I'll try to ease up and not smother you. In turn, I need you to realise that you haven't robbed me of anything. Seeing my daughter grow up into a beautiful young woman is the one thing in life I wouldn't have been able to bear missing out on. I am so incredibly proud of you."
Willow smiles at me, copying my action to tuck a curl behind my ear.
"I am truly sorry about what happened to you in Dunville; if I hadn't been so stubborn and proud-"
"No," she says, shaking her head. "No. It wasn't your fault, and none of that matters anymore. Look at where we are now, Mommy. You brought me here, and I am happy here. Happier than I've ever been, as far as I can remember. Thank you for not abandoning me... even when I started to push you away. Thank you for always caring about me, and thank you for bringing me to Briar Cove."
"Willow..." I cannot find words to respond and only become aware of the tears flowing down my cheeks when Willow leans over to my nightstand, plucks some tissues from the box and hands them to me. I dab at the tears and try to blow my nose, but I'm beyond self-control now.
For the first time in our history together, my daughter wraps her arms around me, and I weep healing tears of relief into her small shoulder.
♪
The house is asleep in that cosy way in which only a house filled with love is able to sleep. I, however, am wide awake. After our long crying session, Willow and I shared some details about the days we were separated. I didn't mention Devan, and I vaguely wonder what Willow didn't mention to me. She had a slightly pensive look about her, as if she was wrestling with many thoughts of her own.
During dinner, I saw her look at Ryan in a rather wistful way, and I'm sure I saw tears glistening in her eyes a few times, especially when he was horsing around with Hunter. She often has a half-amused, half-longing look on her face when she witnesses their interactions, but tonight was different somehow.
I wonder if Willow found out about their tragic past. I should've told her, but she already had so much to deal with. I thought that the story of the Drakes was best served to her in small portions. Willow is incredibly sensitive; she might not be able to handle knowing everything.
She seemed happy enough in general, and I believed her earlier when she told me that she was happy. I also promised to worry less, so I observed her looks and just tried not to read too much into them.
She loved the butterfly necklace I bought her from the open-air market. It is a line-drawing design, slightly abstract, made of metal and inlaid with smokey stained glass. Delicate and lovely, perfect for her.
Before we ate, Willow showed me the ballet tutu she was fixing for Paisley. To me, it seemed like an impossible task, but she was nearly finished when I went to say good night to her about an hour ago. She has transformed the faded, worn-out garment into a thing of beauty by removing sections of the limp skirt and supplementing it with stiff new netting in shades of dark purple, white, light green and soft pink.
The frayed and broken shoulder straps are now replaced with ribbon and puffed-out chiffon in a very light tint of lilac, giving it a more whimsical look. She'd steamed the bodice, getting rid of stains and used fabric paint to create beautiful abstract floral patterns all over it in the same shades as the skirt.
The overall effect gives the bodice an appearance as if the flowers bled from inside the material to the outside rather than being painted on it. It has the same translucent, flowing look as flowers in watercolour paintings.
She added a row of crystalline flowers - the same pastel shade of lilac as the chiffon at the shoulders - diagonally over the front of the bodice, picking it up on a section of the skirt as well. When I went into the dining room to say goodnight to her, she was putting some finishing touches to the wings, which she'd straightened out and mended and covered in silver glitter patterns to hide how worn the fabric was.
I am so glad to see her pick up this hobby again. She always loved it so much. It took a lot of convincing for Charlotte to allow Willow to join the school's theatre club, but we stuck to our guns, and it was one of the few battles we managed to win.
Even Charlotte couldn't deny that Willow has a rare talent. I've often seen her create the most gorgeous costumes out of virtually nothing in only a few hours. I would love to see Paisley dance in the tutu Willow spruced up and saved from the grave.
I cannot stand lying here in my bed a minute longer, rolling around over and over again. Now that darkness has descended, and all is quiet, my brain is overly loud. Memories have become too vivid, and my body yearns for the touch it will never feel again.
I was not created for one-night stands and hookups. Last night was a huge mistake; it is regrettable that it happened with Ryan's best friend because it will complicate future contact. I hope I can avoid seeing Devan for quite some time so that it will not be too awkward when we finally have to see each other again.
Frustrated, I fling the duvet off my over-heated body and slip from the bed. Barefoot, I sneak out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Earlier, we ate our takeaway food in a companionable social atmosphere, enjoying Hunter and Willow's many stories.
I especially found it amusing to hear that Tanner taught Willow how to play one of their games on the console and how Willow frustrated the boy by turning the game into a wildlife conservation quest.
That is definitely my daughter.
It sounds as if Willow and Tanner are growing close. I am not sure what to feel or think about that, but the boy was sweet and kind enough to make me the most amazing cheesecake. Gratitude overrides anything else I might be feeling. He made a big one, which the whole family enjoyed, and a smaller one, which he apparently made very clear to both Willow and Hunter, is mine alone.
I was absolutely planning on sharing it with everybody, but that is not going to happen anymore. I slide it from the refrigerator and grab a spoon from a drawer.
This cheesecake is going to bed with me tonight. I plan on becoming incredibly shameless again, and this time, the sin I'll be indulging in is gluttony!
♪♫♪