Cassie swallowed back her sobs, long enough to splutter, “Please come home, Ren. Please.”
Before I could assure her that we would do whatever she needed—regardless if I knew why, she told me.
And broke my damn heart.
“It’s Mom. She died this morning.”
And nothing else mattered.
Not how we’d get there or how long it would take. Standing, I looked for the backpacks, but Della was already ahead of me, flinging open the single wardrobe and shoving our clothes into each bag.
“We’re coming, Cassie. We’re coming home.”
CHAPTER FORTY
REN
* * * * * *
2020
IT TOOK US six days to cross the miles we’d travelled since leaving the Wilsons.
Between paying for bus tickets and hitchhiking, we managed to trade the still sunny skies of whatever small town we’d been picking fruit in for the cooler clouds of the Wilson’s territory.
Della and I barely slept, and when we did, it was in a hastily erected tent with a muesli bar for dinner or something just as quick and easy.
Cassie had called twice since we hit the road. First, checking in to see where we were, and second to let us know the funeral had been arranged and we better hurry if we wanted to attend.
We travelled as fast as we could, even though I still felt bad about ditching Lo and her fruit-picking job after she’d helped us out. I’d broken my honour, and I hated that I’d do it all over again because Patricia Wilson had died.
Gone.
She was the only mother I knew.
The woman who’d shown me that not all mothers wanted to sell their children.
I couldn’t think of her as…dead. It just didn’t compute. It hurt too much.
“She’s been keeping things from me,” Della murmured, her head on my shoulder as the overnight bus trundled us the final distance.
“Hmm?” I opened my eyes. I hadn’t been sleeping, but my brain was fuzzy enough not to follow. “Say again?”
“Cassie. I didn’t want to pry as I’ve been keeping things from her, too. But…now I wonder if she was hiding the fact that Patricia was sick along with all the other stuff.”
“What stuff?”
She shrugged, jostling me a little in the small, squished together bus seats. “I think she and Chip have had a rocky time. Some messages they’re back together, others they’re apart again.” She sighed, deflating beside me. “I haven’t been a good friend to her.”
Moving my arm, I looped it over her, forcing her to rearrange before resting her head on me for a pillow. “The fact that you stayed in touch shows you’re a better friend than me.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’ve thought about her over the years.”
I chuckled under my breath, halting a cough. “I think I have some idea.”
“Believe me. You don’t.”
“Believe me. I do.” My hands curled, reliving the suffocating rage and stomach-clenching helplessness when Della ran to David. “You’re forgetting I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Della. I just kept it hidden. Just because I didn’t let on, doesn’t mean I wasn’t in pain when I saw you with another boy.”
“I put you through that just a couple of times.” Her voice turned sharp. “Whereas I lived a constant nightmare with you and Cassie.”
I flinched.
I’d wondered when this subject would come up.
For years, I’d felt the strain between Della and me back at Cherry River. At the time, I’d been too blind and stupid to understand that the discord between me and my tiny best friend was Della’s heart breaking. When she was a little girl, it was broken because she thought she’d lost me by having to share me. And as a young woman, it was broken because she fell for me long before she should feel such things.
Kissing her hair, I cuddled her close. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Little Ribbon.”
Her body stiffened in my hold. “You didn’t—”
“I did. Countless times. I was just too clueless to see it.”
She laughed softly. “I was five and you were fifteen when we first met the Wilsons. We couldn’t have been expected to vocalise how we felt when we had no clue ourselves.”
“You have a point, but I’m still sor—”
“Don’t apologise.” She snuggled nearer. “There was no other path we could’ve taken. Our ages don’t make any difference now, but back then, ten years was an ocean apart.”
“It still doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you. Then again, I don’t fully understand why you were jealous.”
“What?” She twisted to look up at me, her eyes a condemning blue. “How could you not understand? I was obscenely jealous.”
“But you should’ve known there was nothing to be jealous about.” I kissed the tip of her nose, braving her temper. “I remember telling you once that you were it for me. No one else ever came close. You’ve had my heart since you could barely say my name.”
“Ugh, and that just makes me feel even more wretched.” Her face fell as she tucked herself back against me. “Did you know Cassie once admitted she was in love with you? On a ride together. It was one of the things that pushed me into kissing you that night.” She winced, a deeper blush working over her skin. “That was the day of my first period. I didn’t have the courage to tell you, but Cassie…she looked after me.”
“She loves you, too, Della.”
“Not the way she loves you.”
It wasn’t news that Cassie was in love with me. I’d seen it—admittedly too late, but by the time I did, I hadn’t slept with her in a long time. And I hadn’t given it any thought because I had Della, and no one else mattered.
But I also understood why this conversation had happened. Della was feeling nervous.
And to be fair, so was I.
Not just because we were about to say goodbye to one of the best women we knew, but because we hadn’t addressed the past.
Bracing myself, I asked, “Did you tell her? About us?”
My heart pounded for her answer, which didn’t make sense as it wasn’t like I wanted to keep our love a secret, but…Cassie wouldn’t understand.
“Are you crazy?” Della shuddered. “That sort of information isn’t something you announce via text.”
“I agree it’s something she needs to hear in person.”
“I know.” She rested her fingertips on my chest. “But it’s even harder because her Mom just died. What sort of people would we be if we hurt her even more when she’s been hurt enough?”
“Honest people.” Staring ahead, I worried just what sort of shit storm we were about to walk into. “You’re my only family, Della, but the Wilsons…they come a close second. We owe them a lot, but don’t think for a minute I won’t tell her. I won’t spare anyone’s feelings from the truth.”
Even as I gave her that assurance, I couldn’t stop the thread of fear.
John Wilson had sent us away for a reason.
That reason being the town had seen Della and me grow up as brother and sister. Did we still run the risk of being separated by Social Services now Della was twenty? Could I still be arrested for keeping her, even though the crime had no doubt been filed with unresolved cases and not on a local cop’s radar anymore?
Della’s tension slowly crept back, chasing the same thoughts I did. “You said you couldn’t go back. Do you think that still stands?”
I wanted to smile and shake my head and tell her not to be so silly. But I couldn’t because I honestly didn’t know. And not knowing was tantamount to danger.
I coughed and closed my eyes. “We made our choice. We’re almost there. Guess we’ll face any consequences together.”
* * * * *
My phone was almost out of battery by the time we crossed the town boundary, and memories bombarded me of the last time we were here. The night of panic as I ran down streets and investigated houses, thanks to Della running away.
&n
bsp; The night she’d kissed me for the first time.
The night everything changed.
Della weaved her fingers through mine as our boots crunched on the road and our bags creaked on our backs. “The night I kissed you…” She gave me a sad half-smile in the pink light of a new day. “I felt something, Ren. I didn’t quite understand it at the time, but I felt everything when I kissed you.”
Bringing her hand to my lips, I kissed her quick. “You destroyed me that night.”
“Would you have noticed me differently if I hadn’t?”
It was a question I’d asked myself before, and even though I would never know for sure—never fully know if I would’ve continued loving Della the way I was supposed to or if she was always meant to be more—now our lives were entwined, it was hard not to believe all of this wouldn’t have come true anyway. Kiss or no kiss.
“I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”
She laughed quietly. “You know, two years ago, you wouldn’t have been able to say that. You would still be hung up on how wrong it was to want me.”
“That’s true.” Looking down the road with only a few more steps separating us from the Wilson’s driveway, I murmured, “But life is too short. Patricia just showed us exactly how short.”
Della’s shoulders rolled in grief. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Me neither.”
“Cassie said the funeral is today.”
I sighed, rubbing the grit from my eyes and exhaustion from my mind. “It’s dawn. We have time to have a quick shower and dress appropriately.”
Not that we had anything appropriate to wear. I didn’t own anything black that wasn’t riddled with holes, and the closest thing Della had to a somber dress was her charcoal-flowered one.
I coughed a little as we traded public road for private driveway. It ought to feel different, stepping back into a place where we’d grown up, but nothing happened.
No bells.
No fanfare.
Just a farm that I knew so well with tractors tucked up in bed and paddocks I’d explored a thousand times before.
The familiar blue and black letterbox proudly stated the Wilsons lived here. A manila envelope wedged in the slot, delivered by a postman who didn’t know the tragedy that’d happened inside.
Della let out a heavy sigh as we crunched on gravel and moved toward the barn where we’d lived for so many years. The barn where I’d had my first blowjob, lost my virginity, talked about sex with Della, and every other nonsensical moment in between.
“Ren?” Della tugged on my hand, removing her fingers from mine. “I didn’t finish saying what I wanted on the bus, but…I don’t think we should tell anyone about us. Not yet.”
I scowled. “It doesn’t matter if we tell anyone or not. They’ll know.”
“How will they know?” The farmhouse came into view with its beautiful gardens and flowers that would no longer be tended to by Patricia. “People are used to us being affectionate. Nothing has changed in that regard.”
“Oh, they’ll know, Della.” I rolled my eyes at her naïvety. “The way you look at me, and the way I look at you? That isn’t something that can be ignored. It’s obvious we’re not just brother and sister. And besides, I’m not going to hide that I’m in love with—”
“Oh, my God!” a familiar, husky voice cried as the front door slammed open.
Cassie gawked at us for a second, her hair still the same colour of her bay horse, messy and long. Her figure was trim and toned, encased in cream silk pyjamas.
She was older than before.
Time worn, just like me.
“I can’t believe it.” Shadows etched her pretty face and grief gnawed her body. “Ren? Della? You’re truly here.”
Charging from the doorway, she winced and hobbled as her bare feet danced over gravel, then she threw herself at us. “You’re both so much bigger than I remember!”
She clutched us in a three-way hug, both Della and I soothing the girl from our past. The girl who’d made our worlds difficult and taught us so much.
“Cas!” Della hugged her back.
My arms wrapped tight, breathing in a foreign smell of a woman I no longer had any feelings for apart from sadness for her mother and gratefulness for her friendship. “I’m so sorry, Cassie.”
She squeezed us tight, her body quaking as she fought tears. A few seconds passed before she composed herself enough to pull away and smile fake-bright. “I couldn’t sleep. There I was, staring out the window and thought I was dreaming when you guys appeared. At first, I didn’t recognise you.” She nudged Della. “You’ve grown so much.” Her eyes landed on me with a flash of history and heat. “And, wow, Ren. Age has been kind to you.”
I stiffened, but her quick assessment vanished as another tear welled and rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry for dragging you back here. I just…I really needed to see you both.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Della shook her head. “We want to be here. We loved Pat so much.”
Cassie’s bottom lip wobbled. “I know. She was the glue of this family. I don’t know how Dad is going to cope.” Waving that concern away as if we were strangers to entertain and not family who understood, she looped her arm through Della’s. “We have so much to catch up on. Any guys on the scene? What happened to that last one? David, was it?”
Her voice was too jovial and forced, hiding just how much she was hurting. “Wait, where have you come from? You’re filthy. You been on vacation during school holidays or something?” She looked us up and down, growing suspicious.
Right there.
This was the moment to tell her.
To admit the truth that Della and I were in love, that I’d gotten her pregnant and almost killed her, that I was seeking a future that was everything she deserved.
Cassie ought to be told point-blank rather than wonder, because it was obvious something was going on.
I cleared my throat, cursing as yet another damn cough rattled my lungs. I daren’t glance at Della. “We, eh—”
Della cut in. “David and I broke up, and I decided that I’d done enough study for a bit. Taking some time off.” She kept her eyes averted as if ashamed to tell Cassie that we were together. Then again, ashamed wasn’t the right word. Worried, perhaps? Afraid? “Ren kindly agreed to take me travelling for a while.”
What the hell?
I could kind of understand omitting the truth, but outright lying?
That would spiral out of control and fast.
“But you love school.” Cassie pouted. “And sorry about David.”
“I’m not.” Della smiled. “He was never the one.” Sneaking me a quick look, she focused again on Cassie, but Cassie’s attention had fallen on me. The way she studied me said she figured out something was different but couldn’t understand what.
Giving me a soft smile, she said, “You look even better than you did the night you left, Ren.”
I flicked Della another glance, assessing her level of acceptance and how I should respond. I nodded. “You, too.”
Even in her grief, she blushed. “That’s kind of you to say. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” Jostling Della’s arm, she whistled under her breath, brushing aside whatever tension had sprung up between us. “And you, little lady. You were thirteen when you kissed, um, well, when you guys left. I know you sent me pics, but you’re stunning, Della. All grown up.” Pecking her on the cheek, Cassie sighed. “Can’t believe we’re not all kids anymore.”
I wasn’t opposed to reminiscing, but there was a time and place, and dawn on the driveway, a few hours before Patricia’s funeral, was not it.
“Liam home?” I looked at the farmhouse, not seeing any lights on in the bedrooms. “John?” I missed that old farmer. I wanted to offer him my condolences and thank him again for all he’d done for us.
“Dad isn’t doing so well. I think he finally had a sleeping tablet last night after the doctor said he’d fall sick if he didn?
??t rest. And Liam, he’s okay. He lives in town now with his girlfriend, not here. You’ll see him at the funeral.”
A fresh wash of tears filled Cassie’s eyes, and she smiled brighter. “Anyway, sorry. I’m sure you guys have travelled a long way. I mean, look at you, almost as dirty as the day you first arrived.” Laughing at her joke, she let Della go. “Go on. Your room is still made up. Feel free to shower, and I’ll bring one of Dad’s suits over for you, Ren, and you can borrow one of my dresses, Della. Once we’re all dressed, we’ll have breakfast, and then…we’ll go say goodbye to Mom.”
* * * * *
Stepping back into our old one bedroom off the stables filled me with nostalgia and claustrophobia.
Nostalgia for all the precious memories I had of hugging a tiny Della, of telling her stories, of holding her when she was sad.
And claustrophobia for all the feelings I now had on top of those innocent ones. The memories of thrusting inside Della, of her cries as I made her come.
So many ways I knew her, and sometimes, it felt as if I knew too much. That I didn’t deserve to know what she looked like as a ten-year-old as well as twenty. That I wasn’t meant to hear her childish laughter blend with her adult chuckle.
Crossing the room and shrugging off her backpack onto her old single bed, Della was quiet as she stared at the dresser where we’d kept our things. The ribbon box from her first Christmas present Patricia had given her, and the willow horse I’d carved, still rested together.
A time warp to another era.
This room might’ve had guests stay in the years since we’d left, but it still smelled of hay dust and summer sunshine of our youth.
“Oh, wow.” Della kicked off her boots and padded in her socks to a little shelf by the bathroom door. Picking up a silver photo frame with ducks waddling on the bottom, her voice wavered with tears. “It’s us.”
My temper wasn’t exactly calm, thanks to Della refusing to tell Cassie the truth about us, but curiosity got the better of me, and I headed to where she stroked a time-bleached picture.
Looking over her shoulder, something reached into my chest and squeezed. Something pure and innocent and young.