Chapter 4
As it turned out, Eiley did know how to enjoy herself.
A little, at least. Mere hours after they’d rolled up to the picturesque manor house, she, Harper, and Cam lounged by the hotel’s indoor pool, tipsy thanks to a steady stream of refreshing watermelon and cucumber gin and tonics.
The knots had been massaged out of her shoulders and her skin was still dewy from the sauna, tingling under natural oils she’d never heard of before.
When asked if she liked clary sage, Eiley’s reply had been, “Who?”, much to the masseuse’s patronising amusement.
She’d since learned it was not the whimsical name of a book character, rather a sweet, musky herb that was supposed to provide balance, but had so far only provided a headache with its overpowering concentration.
Unbearable embarrassment aside, she was glad the treatments were mostly over, eager to bathe away the grease gathering between her toes.
She kicked her newly smooth feet up on her lounger and lay back, plucking the sliced watermelon from the rim of her cocktail glass and popping it in her mouth.
“Do fancy people genuinely enjoy being regularly slathered in oil? I feel like a fried egg.” She tucked her fluffy complimentary dressing gown around her swimsuit, because she might have been relaxed – or in the process of trying to be – but not to the extent of wanting to flash her entire body like some of the guests.
The pool area was filled with sleek, sophisticated women in flattering outfits, all cutouts and mesh panels, and while she knew it was silly, Eiley was still getting used to all the ways her body had changed since becoming a mother.
She wished she possessed Cam’s confidence: her thick curves and dimpled thighs were only made more gorgeous by the leopard-print bikini set she wore, splayed across the lounger next to Eiley.
Meanwhile, she had rooted through her old wardrobe at Mum’s house to find an ancient navy-blue one-piece that had fit her perfectly at twenty-one but now clung to her definitely-lower-than-they-used-to-be boobs and stomach rolls in a way that made her feel too exposed.
On her other side, Harper giggled, struggling to meet the straw with her mouth as it slid around the glass. Okay, maybe they were a bit more than tipsy. “Welcome to the world of relaxation, Eiley. We hope you enjoy your stay.”
“God knows, we all needed the break.” Cam’s tone was devoid of any humour, causing concern to tug at Eiley. She knew her younger sister inside out.
“Why? What’s going on?”
Cam sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Sorcha and I have been fighting a lot recently. She wants another baby.”
“And that’s not a good thing?” Harper twisted onto her stomach to better see them.
“I don’t know. In an ideal world, aye. I love Archie and Isla, but a third would run me ragged.
Not to mention the complications I had last time.
” The reminder was enough to sober Eiley.
Cam’s emergency C-section had been terrifying for the entire family, her included – not helped by the fact she’d only been months away from giving birth herself without a reliable partner.
Finlay had already been busying himself with alcohol and worse by then.
“Sorcha said she’d like to get pregnant again, but …
Two’s perfect, isn’t it? And mostly, I’m just bloody knackered.
Sorcha thinks I’ll change my mind, which I might, but …
What if I don’t? Am I selfish for saying no? ”
“Believe me, I get why you’d be hesitant.” Eiley sat up, taking Cam’s hand, though Cam was quick to bat her away. She wasn’t big on affection, unless it was with the kids or Sorcha.
“You’re not allowed to feel sorry for me. You’re way worse off.”
“Erm, thanks!” Eiley was more offended than perhaps she should have been. She was used to Cam’s blunt attitude, but the reminder that her pitiful life was in shambles sent a sharp stab through her.
“I’m actually very happy at the moment,” she said, and sounded mostly convinced by it.
“Sure.” Cam tried to cover her scoff with a cough, eyeing Harper as though waiting for backup, but it wasn’t received. Harper slurped the last dregs of her cocktail, pointedly avoiding both of their gazes.
Eiley’s nostrils flared.
“Oh, god, please don’t fight,” Harper pleaded finally. “I’m not a good mediator, and I’m also a bit drunk. And also, Fraser will kill me if his sisters come home estranged!”
“We’re not fighting,” Cam said, then flicked Eiley on the arm with glossy onyx-black nails courtesy of their manicure. “And I didn’t mean anything by it, you big tube.”
Eiley glared and returned the gesture on Cam’s forehead, messing up her damp fringe. As close as they were, those polar-opposite children still lived inside them somewhere, eager to squabble over the smallest of things.
Only this wasn’t small.
“I’m a single mother. I’m not terminally ill.
Yeah, it’s hard. Everything is hard. For everyone.
All the time. I’m sick of being the subject of your little pity parties!
” Eiley didn’t know where the words came from, only that they spewed from her mouth without thought, spurred by the sharp stones that seemed to live permanently in her chest. She was trying to prove that she could be fine on her own, even when she was sad and even when she barely had time to sleep for all the chaos, but her family seemed content to keep her in their little box marked Poor Eiley .
Even Graeme had joined in the other day, warning that arrogant little (big) Coffee Giant not to talk to her that way, as though she was just the town’s damsel in distress, always in need of protection.
Well, she wasn’t. Not anymore. All right, her life wasn’t what she’d planned it to be, and her family was no longer a traditional one, but she loved being a mum.
It was the only thing that had ever come naturally to her.
Raising her children to be kind and passionate and accepted was the most fulfilling thing she’d ever known, and they gave her a strength she wouldn’t have found otherwise.
It had surprised her when she’d first summoned it, a zap of something fierce rushing through her one night a couple of years back: the first time she’d threatened to leave unless Finlay got his act together.
Until then, she’d witnessed him fail them again and again, her complaints easily silenced when he raised his voice at her or slammed doors until she flinched.
But, even terrified, she’d vowed to stop letting him ruin them.
Had been determined to provide a better life without him, much the same way Mum had after their father’s abandonment when Eiley was just seven.
The same age as Brook. Better her children grow up without him than be subjected to any more of his rage and ignorance.
And yes, as they grew older, they would probably feel that same inevitable chasm inside them, a tunnel only an absent parent could burrow.
Eiley would do everything in her power to keep it full, overflowing.
She would love them hard enough that they wouldn’t realise something was missing, at least most of the time.
So what if she remained single, never to be loved the way Cam and Harper were?
She had her dream job now, and her family had a roof over its head, and she was fine.
She was really, truly fine. Happy, even.
Or getting there. Even if it did always seem to float a little out of reach.
She could blame that on her finicky, chemically imbalanced brain, and therefore push it aside and focus on the good, which there was plenty of.
No blooming pity necessary.
Cam narrowed her mascara-smudged eyes. “Give over, Eiley. Where is all this coming from?”
Eiley opened her mouth, then realised she didn’t have a retort. That anger, which had been all-consuming a moment ago, was deflating from her as quickly as it had arrived, a red balloon releasing all its air.
This wasn’t her. She didn’t argue . Cam argued, and she put up with it. That was how it worked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, a wobble to her chin. Cam had put so much work into the weekend, and Eiley was being ungrateful. Defensive. And poor Harper was in the middle of it. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Harper stumbled over to Eiley’s lounger, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “We weren’t trying to make you feel bad. Cam, say you’re sorry.”
“No.” Cam tilted her chin stubbornly. When Harper glowered, she sighed in defeat. “Look, you’re doing well. So well. I couldn’t be in your position.”
“Yeah, I know, because that would be terrible,” Eiley remarked flatly.
Cam clucked her tongue. “ Because you’ve been through a lot, and even though we all try to support you, we can’t replace that bastard’s role in your life. We just wish we could see you happy. Properly happy. That’s all.”
But Eiley had never been properly happy.
She’d always felt … burdened, somehow. Never by the kids.
No, not by anyone but herself. There were just days when the world lacked colour.
Days where she was so, so tired of doing things.
Any things. She didn’t want to buy milk every other day.
She didn’t want to set her alarm for six-thirty each morning.
She didn’t want to go outside or talk to other people.
Her depression had been diagnosed as a teen, shortly after high school exams had begun, and it had never really gone away.
It was just part of her. It didn’t mean she needed all this fuss.
She’d learned to live with it. Learned that seeking little joys, like the sound of Saffron’s giggle or the way Brook lit up in his school plays, or Sky dancing to his favourite songs.
And beyond them, the smell of rain and the flick of pages and …
And the people in front of her, who probably didn’t deserve to have their head bitten off, even if Cam could be unintentionally harsh.