Chapter 27
Kaden
The large blue IKEA bag weighs heavy in my hand as I wait for the front door to open. Two minutes after ringing the bell, it swings wide, and Hope appears in the doorway, dressed in an olive-green long-sleeve top and light blue jeans that cling perfectly to her curvy hips and thighs.
She looks breathtaking, my gaze slow and unashamed as I take her in. And her hair, an intoxicating blend of copper and light auburn—I haven’t stopped dreaming about it since the farmer’s market. It’s already claimed the title of my favourite shade in the world.
Her glacier-blue eyes take me in too, and for a heartbeat, I wonder if I should’ve made more of an effort. I decided to wear my comfiest clothes today, a black hooded sports jacket and matching track pants, figuring I’d be getting my hands dirty helping Zac with his project.
I hope I’ve brought everything we need. The bag holds all I could gather in the short time leading up to today. If not, we’ll have to improvise and make do with whatever’s in their house and garden, which looked more like a jungle the last time I was here.
I admit, I was quite taken aback by the state of her backyard, especially knowing how much Hope loves to garden.
I had imagined something resembling the National Botanic Gardens, not a space that looks like an abandoned house in the middle of a forest. But she’s been through a lot this past year, so I understand why some things were left neglected.
“Good morning.” Hope greets me with her usual radiant smile.
“Good morning. I come bearing gifts,” I say, lifting the bag of materials up to show her.
“Oh my god, Kaden. That’s a lot of things.”
“I know, right? I went a little overboard, but I just wanted to make sure I had everything ready for him.”
“You’re amazing, you know that.” From the warm tone of her voice, she says it like it’s a fact, not a compliment. Little does she know, I’m far from it.
“Come in,” she says, stepping aside to let me through. “Zac is waiting for you in the living room.”
The door clicks shut behind us, and I follow Hope towards her son. As we move through the hallway, my eyes roam over the space, taking in the large uneven patches on the walls, filled holes that look like she tried to fix them herself, but didn’t quite get it right.
We enter the living room, and I immediately spot Zac sitting on the floor beside the coffee table, an art book lying open on top, with coloured markers scattered across its pages. He’s watching a kids movie on TV, so completely engrossed that he doesn’t even notice me walking into the room.
“Hey, mate.”
His head whips around, eyes landing on me instantly.
He’s on his feet in a flash, and before I can even register what’s happening, he rushes towards me and wraps me in a tight, full-bodied hug.
I’m so caught off guard that when I glance at his mum, she’s just watching us with a genuine smile.
Unsure what to do, I give him a couple of gentle pats on the back.
A few seconds later, he peels himself away.
“Hi, Kaden,” he says.
“Are you ready to make the best model house your school has ever seen?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! I’m ready,” he replies, as he saunters back to the spot on the floor he was just sitting on.
I sink onto the floor across from him, gently placing the bag beside me.
“I’ll let you boys get to work. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything,” Hope says, leaning on the doorframe, hands clasped lightly in front of her.
I smile and thank her while Zac simply nods, and then she’s gone.
She’s still able to see and hear us through the open doorway, and I get a good view of her at the island counter chopping something.
Our eyes connect briefly, and even from this far, I can still make out her pale blue orbs, bright and clear.
When I look back at Zac, he’s edged closer to the bag, sneaking a peek at what’s inside.
“What did you bring?” he asks, curiously.
I open the bag a little more so he can get a better look, but leave everything inside, not wanting to make a mess on the floorboards.
“Hopefully enough supplies to build your house.”
I run through the contents of the bag—cut-off pieces of wood, twigs, and pebbles; recycled boxes and bottles; scraps of paper; a glue gun and twine; and even a couple of egg cartons.
I wasn’t sure what he already had or what was okay to use, so I just grabbed whatever I had lying around the apartment and the garden outside.
He seems pleased with the items, judging from the wide smile stretching across his face. “My mum saved some cereal boxes, paper towel rolls, and pop sticks for us, so we have plenty of stuff to use.”
I nod. “So, what exactly is this project?”
“It’s a sustainability project for National Landcare Week, which just passed. It’s a competition for Year 3 students, and we have to make a model house using only natural or recycled materials,” he explains.
“What do you get if you win?”
“A one-hundred-dollar gift card and a free day pass to the Wildlife Park. The winner also gets to have their model house displayed at the school for a whole year until the next competition.”
“That’s awesome! Well, I guess we better get started, if you want the winning title. Have you got a rough idea of how you want the house to look like?”
He hands me his art book, placing it on the ground between us.
As he flips through the pages, I see sketch after sketch of different house designs—some filled with colour, others not.
They’re actually really good for something a nine-year-old drew, and I can’t help but admire the thought and attention he’s put into each one.
“These are fantastic, Zac! You have quite a remarkable talent, young man. Has your mum seen these?”
He nods, then turns to the second sketch: an L-shaped cabin-style house with a chimney and large, towering trees surrounding it. He taps the page and says, “This one is her favourite.”
I can see why. The drawing has a little more detail than the others, and it looks quaint and charming. The colours he’s used only add to its appeal.
“I really like all your sketches, but if I had to choose, this one would be my favourite too,” I say, lightly tracing the house’s outline with my finger.
“Okay, let’s do this one, then.”
We spend several minutes sorting through and organising the materials on the floor that we’ll use for the model, Zac eagerly adding his acrylic paints to the pile for the finishing touches. As we’re organising the items on the floor, Hope walks back in the room carrying a small tray of drinks.
“I made fresh lemonade,” she says, setting them carefully on the coffee table.
Zac and I reach for the glasses at the same time, gulping it down in large sips as if we just survived a full day of hard labour on a construction site.
“Delicious and refreshing,” I tell Hope, and she gives me one of those soft, warm smiles that make my chest tighten for reasons I don’t want to examine too closely.
“Just thought I’d see how everything is going?”
“This is what we’ll be working on, Mum. Look,” he says, lifting his art book to show her the sketch of the house.
“Oh, I love that one! I can already tell it’s going to be fantastic,” she declares, smiling encouragingly at Zac. Her gaze then drops to the floor, where an assortment of materials has been neatly arranged into small piles. “Are those what you’ll be using to build your model?”
I nod quietly, letting Zac take the lead.
“Yeah, they are,” he says, nodding as if he’s already pictured it all finished.
“I was thinking the boxes could be the frame of the house, and the pop sticks could be for the roof. The twigs could be glued on the outside so it looks like logs on a real cabin. The pebbles can be the pathway, and the paper towel rolls can be the trees.”
He pauses, frowning slightly in concentration. “I just have to figure out how to make the chimney… and the doors and the windows.”
“How about we cut the clear bottles for the windows, and use these small wood pieces as the door?” I suggest, holding up a tiny rectangular piece.
“Oh, yeah! That’s a good idea!” He smiles widely. “I guess we can leave the chimney last. I want it to stand out,” he states, his voice full of determination.
It’s immediately clear how confident and invested Zac is when he expresses his ideas.
He approaches everything with determination and creativity that feels older than his years.
At times, it’s easy to forget how young he really is when he speaks with such certainty and insight.
Watching him, I find myself picturing a future architect or engineer in the making.
“All of these ideas are wonderful, and I can’t wait to see the finished result,” Hope says, her voice soft with pride. “I’ll let you get back to it. Let me know if you need anything.”
She turns and wanders back into the kitchen, resuming her cooking. Moments later, the house quickly fills with mouth-watering aromas, the warm scent of spices and baked pastry curling through the air.
I take another sip of my lemonade, loving how refreshingly sweet it tastes on my tongue.
Not wanting to waste another minute, Zac and I dive straight back into the project, starting with the cardboard boxes that will form the foundation of the house.
I mostly offer suggestions and hold the pieces steady, while he glues them into place.
He’s very much in charge, with me happily playing the role of his assistant.
“Thank you for helping me, Kaden,” he says softly.
“No worries at all. I’ll take any excuse to make something.”
“Mum says you build a lot of nice things with wood.”
“I do. It’s my passion, just like plants and gardening are your mum’s.”
“I like drawing things,” he confesses.
“I can see that. And you’re very good at it too.”
“I know.”
I snort a laugh, his honesty and confidence refreshing. “Do your parents know that you love to draw?”