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“Thank you,” I say automatically, clutching the gift bag to my chest. I don’t even know what I’m thanking them both for, but whatever it is, I know I’ll love it. Presents aren’t something I get very often so no matter what I receive, I always appreciate it.
Tracy claps her hands together and grins. I’ve never seen her look happier, or as stress free. Living here has done her and Braydon a world of good. The fresher air, a home that accommodates Braydon’s needs, and most importantly, somewhere far away from trouble, makes for a happy home. It makes my heart fill with joy and confirms that Eastern and I made the right decision back in Mr Carmichael’s office two weeks ago.
“Stop stalling, Lissy! Open it!” she insists.
Moving aside the tissue paper, I see the long edge of a photo album. “What’s this?” I ask, pulling it out and placing the empty gift bag on the kitchen table.
“Why don’t you take a look,” Eastern urges me. He’s gnawing on a fingernail, a sign he’s nervous about my reaction to their gift. It’s a cute look on him. I open the front cover, my heart skipping several beats as my brain finally catches up with what my heart instantly reacted to.
“You didn’t?” I whisper.
“I thought you might like it, you know, after everything…” Eastern starts, his voice trailing off as he remembers we haven’t given Tracy the full story about what happened to my sketchpad. I don’t even like thinking about it honestly.
“I can’t believe all that work was destroyed because you left your sketchpad in the rain.Silly, Lissy,” Tracy gently ribs, bringing a smile to my face with her cute name for me. She’s the only one who can get away with calling me Silly Lissy. Eastern smirks at the nickname, but I ignore him.
“You should be more careful with your artwork. It’s precious.”
If only she knew the half of it. That arsehole Monk had known how precious those sketches were to me and destroyed them anyway. I’d considered telling Tracy, but Eastern and I both agreed that her knowing the truth would only cause her worry and anxiety and she needed that shit like a hole in the head. So, we made up a story about how I left my sketchpad in the rain.
“This is amazing. I totally forgot about this,” I whisper, genuinely taken aback as I trace my finger over the rough sketch of my first attempt at my tag. It’s gone through many changes over the past three years but this one is special, given I drew it the day after my mum passed away. That was the day I decided not to be bound to my past. That was the day I became Asia. I flip through the album, my throat constricting with every turn of the page.
“You kept them all?” My voice is choked with emotion.
“Of course, I did.Youdrew them,” Eastern answers solemnly.
I’m enraptured by this gift. Overwhelmed, actually. Every single page is filled with drawings I’ve done over the years for Tracy and Eastern. From funny little doodles on scrappy bits of paper to more detailed sketches that I’d given them and forgotten about until now. I can’t even begin to express how much this means to me after all the sketches Monk destroyed. I look up, catching Eastern’s eye. He holds my gaze, and for a beat it’s just him and me alone in the kitchen. The world stops as my tattooed heart beats with hope of better things to come. Then my shoulders drop when I remember what I’m returning to Oceanside to do.
“What is it? Don’t you like it?” Eastern asks, self-doubt leaking into his voice.
“Do I like it? Iloveit!” I exclaim, tucking the album under my arm and hugging Eastern for a second time. We hold onto each other a beat too long, and I can’t help but press my lips lightly against the curve of his neck. Eastern shudders beneath me, his fingers gripping hold of my hips as he reacts to my closeness and show of affection. We haven’t had a chance to broach the subject of ‘us’ these past couple weeks given we’ve both been so busy. The few hours left before needing to be at Oceanside might be the only chance we get to talk.
“Well, that’s just perfect then,” Tracy says, snapping us both out of the little bubble we’ve found ourselves in. “One last group hug, then you need to get to the train station. I don’t want you late for your first day at school, Eastern. You need to make a good impression.”
Eastern chuckles. “Mum, I love your enthusiasm and all that, but the new term doesn’t officially start until tomorrow. We’re not going to be late.”
She waves her hand in the air. “Still, this is your chance to do things over. This is our chance to make a new life. I’m proud of you, Eastern. Now that we’re out of the estate, things will be better. Iknowit.” She beams at us both, throwing her arms around our shoulders.
“It will be better,” I promise her, knowing in my heart that for Tracy, Braydon and Eastern it has to be. But for me…? I’m not so certain.
