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I can do this.
Marcus arrives late Sunday afternoon, and Beau is so excited about her new unicorn bedroom set that she drags him off upstairs.
“Beau, make sure you wash your hands before you come down. Dinner is almost ready!” I call up the stairs after them. Marcus is staying in the spare room; it's still sparse, but it’s free. I can hear them chattering away to one another. No doubt she is filling him in on summer club and her new friends. I serve up thelasagne and toss the salad as they make their way downstairs. Marcus grins. “Please tell me you made garlic bread?”
“I helped!” Beau shouts, jumping up into her seat. “We melted the butter and put the garyic in," she states proudly, using her arm to move some hair out of her face.
Marcus leans over and pats her hand. “It’s garlic,” he says slowly, and Beau frowns.
“I like garlic and garyic,” I tell her. She giggles, and Marcus' cheeks burn a little. He's a huge help so I don’t want to pick at him for correcting her. He does it often and it’s good for her, but it's more the way he does it that even I feel patronised. I place the offending item on the table. “Who is ready for garyic bread?” I laugh.
“Garyic, garyic!” Beau chants and helps serve the salad, dropping pieces as she does. Dinner is comfortable and easy. Marcus and I get along well, and Beau never allows a moment’s silence. “Can we go for a walk?” she asks, pulling the buttery bread apart and licking any drips from her fingers, it’s the kind of thing my father would say, ‘Let’s go for a walk to help our dinner go down,’ and hearing her voice, it makes me smile sadly.
We have visited his grave twice since returning home, but I don’t want to hold Beau back from moving forward with his death. She knows he is gone; she just doesn't understand the full depth of it.
“Of course we can.” Clearing my throat, I finish my meal and avoid Marcus’s eyes when he rubs my arm in a gesture of comfort. “When we get back, we can have ice cream!” I state, lifting the mood. Beau whoops and snags the last slice of garlic bread before asking to get down from the table.
“I’ll clear up.” Marcus stands, collecting plates and cutlery into a neat stack. “Why don't you go grab a cardigan? It looks like the air’s chilly.”
I see a few clouds. My jean shorts and sleeveless blouse are fine. Beau has a summer dress on, so I leave him to clear up and find her an extra layer. He’s an orderly man, everything well thought out, calm and logical. When I landed my first serious job, Marcus was the one person to make me feel welcome. He has been so supportive with Beau, he’s always on the other end of the phone to help if needed, and although we never really discuss feelings, he is probably my one and only friend. When my father passed away, he helped with the funeral arrangements, and my decision to move back to Richmond was heavily discussed with him. Both he and my mother were against the move, purely as it would mean Beau and I were further away from them, but they understood my desire to bring Beau up in a small village. She loved Pop, and I missed this house.
The incident with Cameron was never discussed with my father. He never so much as even whispered his name. After I left Cameron, I became as good as a ghost. Until this week, I hadn’t laid eyes on him or heard his name in ten years. My father had been my hero, and leaving all those years ago had left a bitter taste in his mouth towards Cameron for more than one reason. My father never asked why I refused to return to the village but simply agreed to meet me in neighbouring towns. He’d loved being in Beau’s life and I’d loved being back in his when I could be. That’s why I could never give this house up. It meant too much; all my memories were here. Beau had given me a strength I didn’t know I had, and I owed it to her to be brave and not only face my demons, but to conquer them. I never expected Cameron and his entourage would still be living here. Richmond offered a safe community environment not too far from London but far enough away that you felt hidden in the country.
Beau comes charging in, her hair like a sheet of gold sand behind her. “Are we going?” She is breathless and excited. I grin at her and take a seat on the edge of her bed.
“In a minute. Come and put this on.” I hold the cream cardigan open, and she shrugs it on, tugging at the buttons to keep it in place.
“Marcus says we can go on the swings if we walk by the park,” she tells me, grappling with the buttons before giving up and leaving it to hang open.
“Sounds like a great plan.” I follow her downstairs, where Marcus is waiting for us.
“Ready?”
“Let’s go,” I reply, unlocking the door and pulling it wide open as the evening air hits me. It's so close, muggy, Beau will probably get too hot herself.
“What about your cardigan?” he asks, rubbing his nose.
“I don't need one,” I say, seeing him frown at my blouse. It is a little low in the front, but it’s been so oppressive today I don't want to be cooped up in clothes. “I'm too hot as it is,” I tell him. With a brittle smile, he steps out, calling for Beau to be careful as I pull my hair up into a big bun to stop it from sticking to my neck. We set off down the street as Beau races ahead. “Thanks again for coming back to help. I really need to get my head around all the business stuff,” I admit on a tired sigh.
“You know I love Beau; it’s great to see you both.” Marcus rubs my back. “I checked on your mum. She is still angry at Mavis for changing the starter at the golf club.”
I snort, recalling the horror on my mother’s face when she told us about it over Sunday dinner before we moved here. “Oh, she was so mad, I don't think I’ve ever seen her so angry.” I giggle loudly, and Marcus rubs his watering eyes. Beau is zigzagging her way down the street until she comes to the park,her small hands push open the heavy gate and she is grunting her way in.
“Wait for us!” I yell, walking faster to catch up with her. We round the line of trees and I almost slam into Cameron’s chest. I let out an unladylikeoomph, and he grips my arms to steady us both.
“Whoa!” He laughs, letting me go and taking a healthy step back. His eyes drop to the petite brunette beside him now cupping his bicep possessively. I almost want to roll my eyes and tell her she can have his arm and the rest of him because my heart can’t withstand another round of Cameron Stone.
“Sorry,” I croak. Marcus gives Cam a tight smile, touching my back to encourage me round them as a dark-haired girl bounds towards us. He catches her mid-air, laughing deeply, and swings her up onto his shoulder in the most effortless display of maleness I’ve ever seen. My smile falters and I twist away, moving round them. I’d been naive enough to believe I would have been that woman, that my child would have been ours. I would never change Beau, not for anything or anyone, but her conception was not how I pictured it. I wanted it all: a brood of children after years of wistful marriage to a good man. My life had unravelled in a way I’d never expected or chosen, yet it was all worth it for the little girl hoisting herself onto a swing.
“That's my friend, Grace!” Beau tells me proudly. Cameron and his family hang back and Grace waves excitedly from up high. Cam has a smile a mile wide, yet his wife watches me closely.
“That’s Beau.” Grace giggles, and I start to wonder things I have forced myself to not think of, like how they met. How long have they dated? What was their wedding like? Will they have more kids? What does he do, what does she do? But worst, the one crushing question that has me almost tripping over a root is what is it about her that he loves enough to be faithful for? I hatethat I’ve allowed myself to sink so low as to compare myself. To allow those thoughts in. I quicken my pace over taking Marcus and begin to push Beau, her screams of laughter blocking any lingering thoughts.
Grace hops onto the swing next to Beau, their little voices chiming together. Marcus looks green around the gills. He knows little about what happened in Richmond, and what I haven't told him, I suspect my mother has. I keep my focus on Beau and smile at the little girl beside her and seeing their friendship blossom. Cameron and his wife join us, and she takes the last swing, smirking at Cam. Grace interrupts their moment and asks him to push her. “High to the sky like a bird!” she says, grinning at Beau. Cameron steps behind his daughter, making us opposite one another. I focus on Beau and not the gorgeous man across from me. As I hold my smile in place, I can feel it becoming strained. An ache starts to form as my resolve wavers.
“Right, are you ready?” he asks, pulling her back and holding her elevated. Her little hands are gripping the chains and Beau is watching wide-eyed. Cam pushes hard, and Grace swings high, her feet kicking to the clouds.
“Me now!” Beau laughs over Grace’s screams. “Me, please?” She looks expectantly at Cameron, who falters and turns to me for guidance. There are a thousand reasons I want to shake my head, but only one has me nodding. My little girl, smiling happily at me. Soon, both girls are giggling into the sky and his wife is laughing as she gets swung out into the open air too.
