Chapter 27
Eden
The agonising decision to follow my gran to England first popped into my head after I’d spent the afternoon with Pia. I’d been so caught up in my own world that I’d not been there for her when she needed me. I think that goes for my gran too, and I felt terrible.
My gran is the strongest person I know, and she has been the glue of the family for all of my life.
I think it’s only right we show up for her the way she’s always shown up for us.
Plus, my grandad will need support too. She’s his world, and I can’t imagine how scared he must be.
He’ll never show it because Gran would kick his arse, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t still there.
Speaking of the old bird. She and Grandad flew back to the UK yesterday afternoon, and it was emotional. My gran was fine, it was the rest of us who got teary. At one point she threatened to disinherit the lot of us if we didn’t pull ourselves together.
It was quite funny, actually.
At least Sloane and I got some quality time in with her, even if she was as ornery as usual.
It was great to show her my art and listen to her thoughts.
If there is anyone I trust to tell it to me straight where my work is concerned, it’s my Gran.
She never pulls punches. Mercifully she loved my pieces and only critiqued one painting.
Today I’m going to fill the family in on my plans.
Now that Sloane knows I’m not too worried about telling my parents.
Ugh, I felt sick to my stomach when I spoke to Sloane.
The idea had been burning a hole in my brain, and I’d not been sleeping well.
I’m grateful in a way that she woke up and prodded me to talk to her.
I’m still worried about her. She’s been doing so well, and I don’t want my leaving to set her back.
Then again, as she’s always telling me, her recovery isn’t on me.
I need to trust her when she tells me she’s going to be fine.
In reality I think she’s stronger than all of us now.
Sloane Bishop is the fiercest person I know.
She’s also the love of my life, and I can’t believe I’m willingly leaving her for god knows how long just after we’ve finally got our shit together.
I know she’d come with me if she could, but I can’t let her jeopardise what she’s building.
It’s too important. She’s too important.
So, I need to suck it up. Be there for my gran and have faith Sloane will be fine and waiting for me to come home.
Or she’ll be on a flight to Blighty for my gallery opening, whichever comes first.
The morning light cuts a line straight down my parents’ kitchen table and over Mum’s left hand, illuminating the crumbs she’s just swept into her palm.
She’s got that determined look about her, the one that says no piece of toast will survive on her countertop.
Her mood obviously has nothing to do with toast crumbs, but the fact Gran and Grandad flew home yesterday.
Mum’s worrying and dealing with it by cleaning… everything.
Dad stands at the stove pretending he isn’t watching her every move, but he’s pouring my tea into my Offspring memorabilia mug, the one I got the very first time I saw them live, and if he doesn’t pay attention he’s going to start pouring tea all over the counter that Mum just finished cleaning for the millionth time.
Jenna’s perched on the kitchen island with a gigantic mug of coffee and an equally massive bowl of some shitty cereal. I clear my throat, which is so dry it sounds like I’m prepping to cough up a hairball, and look at the three of them.
“Mum, Dad…Lucifer,” I say.
Jenna freezes, her spoon hovering somewhere between her mouth and the cereal.
She scowls at me, but the fact she’s got milk on her upper lip kind of douses any effect her death glare should have.
Mum stops mid-crumb disposal. Dad just continues to pour, slow and steady, ignoring the over-spill as the cup reaches maximum volume.
“I’m going to England,” I state.
The words hang there, swimming in the humid air. For three seconds, no one breathes. Even the fridge stops humming.
Jenna’s spoon clinks down into the bowl and she says, “You’re leaving?”
Dad finally registers he’s drowning the kitchen in Yorkshire Gold. He rolls his eyes and begins wiping up the mess with a dishtowel. “You mean to visit Gran?”
“To stay with her. I want to be there for the treatment.” I don’t say cancer, not because we’re squeamish but because everyone at this table already knows the diagnosis. If you say the C-word, it somehow becomes the only word in the room.
Mum’s hands have migrated to the tabletop, pressing flat so hard her knuckles are white. “Does she know?” she asks, but the shake in her voice gives her away. She already suspects the answer.
“No. And I’d like to keep it that way for now. I don’t want her blowing a gasket.”
Mum gives a strange half-laugh, half-sob that sounds like a hiccup. She leans over and grabs my hand, squeezing tight. “Thank you, love. She’ll want to kick your arse for making a fuss, but she’ll be happy to have you there.”
I hate seeing Mum emotional like this. She’s had a permanent quiver on her lip ever since Gran told us about her health.
Jenna swirls the milk in her bowl, staring at the whirlpool. “You’re going by yourself?” she asks, but there’s a wobble now, like she’s picturing the house without me. I resist the urge to ruffle her hair and make some stupid joke.
Even though I’ve not lived here for years, I’m always popping over.
Sometimes it’s like things haven’t changed since high school, except me and Jenna are even tighter as sisters.
She’s heading to college in a few weeks, and I thought I’d be the one getting all emotional.
Seems she’s just as worried about being away from me and the family.
“Yeah,” I nod, “unless you want to come and do all my commissions for me.” I try a smile, but it’s pathetic, even by my standards.
Dad finally sits across from me, his knees knocking the table so my tea ripples dangerously close to the rim. “You’ll call every day?”
“I’ll call. And I’ll FaceTime. And I’ll send pictures, if Gran will let me.”
Mum releases my hand, only to clasp both hands together and press them to her lips. “What about Sloane?”
“She already knows. She’s okay with it. She’ll be fine.”
Jenna snorts. “She’ll turn into a hermit,” she says, but it’s affectionate.
Dad drums his fingers on the table, slow and deliberate. “And your commissions?” he says, with that edge that means he’s thought of a million logistical problems and he’s just picking his favourite to start the interrogation.
“I’m well ahead and I’ll hijack Gran’s studio if I need to keep painting. It’s just for a few weeks, maybe a little longer. I want to be there for her, and let’s be honest, we’ll all feel better if we know what’s going on, because if we leave it up to Gran she’ll only share certain details.”
Mum sniffs and swipes a hand under her eye. “When do you plan on travelling?”
I glance down at my phone, where the British Airways app is already open to a blinking countdown. “Three days. My flight’s booked.”
“Look after yourself, kiddo,” Dad says. “Seriously, if you need us there, just call.”
“Will do,” I say, and I actually mean it.
Mum stands, wipes her palms on her jeans, and pulls me into a hug that’s tighter than any hug I’ve gotten since I was a kid. Her chin presses into my shoulder, and I feel her breath hitch against my collarbone. “You’re a good kid,” she whispers, then lets me go so fast I nearly fall off my chair.
Jenna hops down from the stool and immediately steals my tea, taking a slurp before wrinkling her nose.
“Too strong,” she declares, then sets it back in front of me.
I fail to point out she’s still got a bucket of coffee in front of her and spreading her germs on my mug is totally unnecessary.
Then again, she is my little sister. It’s her job to do gross shit like that, even if we are “adults.”
I raise the mug in her direction and say, “To Gran,” which earns a small chuckle.
Well, that’s that then. England, here I come.
By the time I get to Benny’s, the sun’s already warm and I’m regretting my hoodie. I’m not late but everyone’s here already, squeezed into our usual booth. The smell of Benny’s signature veggie burger has me practically salivating.
Bella’s hot-pink Doc Martens dangle off the edge of her chair, boots not even close to touching the floor, and she’s got her phone balanced on her knee, thumb flicking through something violently. I just fucking love how intense that girl is all the time.
Becca’s next to her in a flowery dress that screams femme.
They are chalk and cheese, but they work so well.
I notice how Becca unconsciously places a calming hand on Bella’s arm when Bella huffs or growls at something on her phone.
They’re just tuned in to each other. Everyone bangs on about me and Sloane being made for each other, but I’d say Bella and Becca are in the exact same boat.
They’ve stuck with each other through thick and thin, and hell if I’m not envious of that.
Across from them is Pia, who is polishing off a pile of sweet potato fries like it’s the first time she’s tried them.
It’s not, but my mum will have been plying her with veggies not fried in oil.
The others haven’t ordered yet, but I’m guessing no one wanted to get in the way of Pia and her first plate of greasy food she’s had in weeks.
Meena is strapped to her chest, sleeping.
She kind of reminds me of a burrito, but smellier and louder in every way.
Todd is wedged into the corner, smiling way too big for this time of day, which leads me to believe it’s fatigue-induced hysteria and not actual happiness to be here. The man looks to have aged ten years in the few weeks his daughter has been on earth.
Sloane, dressed in her new uniform, looks gorgeous. She offers me a brilliant smile as I approach.
I sit next to her, and we share a tender kiss while everyone decides what food to order. It will be the same order we’ve been getting for the past eight years, but if they want to go through the same rigmarole every time we come here, then who am I to complain?
“This is all very cloak and dagger, E,” Bella finally says after choosing her usual food order as predicted and tucking her phone away. “Are you pregnant? On the run from the law?”
I want to make a joke about Sloane trying to get me pregnant but don’t. I just want to get this over with.
“Neither,” I say, laughing. Picking up a stray fry from Pia’s plate, I mock gasp when she slaps my hand, but not hard enough to bruise. “I have an announcement.”
Becca straightens. “Is this about the Gran thing?” she asks quietly. Sometimes I forget how perceptive she is.
“It’s about the Gran thing. I’m going to the UK earlier than planned. In three days.”
The table goes still, like someone hit a mute button. Bella blinks, then snorts. “Fucking hell, Eden. I thought you were going to tell us something serious. Obviously you’re going to England. Frankly, I thought you would’ve been on the same flight as your grandparents.”
Pia’s hand sneaks across the table, curling her pinky around mine. “Alone?” she says, but her eyes are on Sloane, who still hasn’t said a word.
Todd, never one for reading a room, leans back and says, “Can I come with you? I’ve always wanted to see Buckingham Palace. Do you think the Queen likes burgers?” This earns him a death glare from Pia, which he deflects with a dazzlingly clueless grin.
I still need to talk to my best friend about her and Todd. Maybe before I hop on a plane. There is something in Pia’s eyes that makes me think there is more going on than she’s admitting.
Becca pushes a milkshake in my direction, a thick layer of whipped cream threatening to slosh over the edge. “Are you staying until your gallery show?”
The gallery show is still months away, but if things with Gran don’t go the way we hope, there’s a strong chance I’ll end up staying longer than expected.
“I don’t know. Maybe? I just know I need to be there right now. I’ll hijack Gran’s studio if I need to paint.”
Bella finally rests her chin in her hand, gaze softening for a microsecond. “Well, we’re still coming for your show. But if you need us, say the word.”
Pia lifts my hand to her mouth and kisses my knuckles, which is well out of her norm. I can’t keep up with her mood changes of late. “I’ll water your plants and steal your hoodies.”
“The only plant I have is plastic, so don’t water that!” I shoot. I’ve got visions of my bedroom being flooded.
For a moment, no one speaks. Sloane finally looks up from the salt shaker she’s been eyeing since the conversation started. “I’m proud of you,” she says. We’ve already had this conversation, but it’s nice to hear. It’s the reassurance I need. God, I’m needy and it’s gross.
“Thanks, guys,” I begin. “Oh, and will you all keep an eye on Jenna, please? I know she has Kiera but that’s new. She’s starting college soon and she acts like she’s fine, but she’s basically a raw nerve in soccer shorts. She almost cried earlier.”
“Done,” Bella says. “I’ll text her memes every hour on the hour.”
“Great plan.” I laugh, knowing Bella will absolutely do that and it’ll drive Jenna bonkers.
Sloane squeezes my knee under the table. “She’s going to be okay,” she whispers.
“Need a ride to the airport?” Bella asks.
“I’ve got that covered,” Sloane replies.
I drain the last of the milkshake and set the glass down, feeling the sugar buzz kick in. “If any of you so much as think about touching my sketchbooks, I’ll know,” I do the “I’m watching you” finger to eyes and point at everyone. “I’ve booby-trapped them.”
Bella will fuck with my drawings or sketch some of her own that will be completely inappropriate. She grins at me. “You know we only mess with you because we care.”
“Yeah, I know, but couldn’t you show affection in a normal way?”
She scoffs. “Not a chance.”