23. He said, “I want it all, Denny Dee.”
23
He said, “I want it all, Denny Dee.”
Zach
Opening the car door was a breeze. Getting out of the car? A whole different story.
I groaned when my feet hit the driveway. Exhaustion gnawed up my calves, my muscles protesting in a scream, everything aching.
I’d survived another Saturday helping at the salon. Barely.
The two hours I’d spent at the office before heading uptown had been as easy as falling off a log. Six hours at the salon was the equivalent of being smacked with a log across the shins…a hundred times…and if the log was actually a freight train.
How did those three women do their jobs day in and day out?
Eden had promoted me to Chief Executive of Towels, Hanging Robes, and Restocking. When I’d served the champagne and coffee quickly enough, I’d earned her slap of appreciation on the backside. The overheated make-out session in the colour mixing room had been my bonus payment.
Andie had thrust open the door and glared daggers at us.
“This is a goddamn workplace,” she’d barked.
Eden had fallen against me, giggling, not bothered at all. “Mighty words from the woman who’s been sneaking into the laundry room with Yvette.”
Cheeks red, attempts at a retort spluttering to nothing, Andie had slammed the door and stormed off.
But otherwise, a perfect day.
I rounded the car to pop the boot. Eden had insisted that meeting my parents for the first time had certain gift requirements. No amount of reassurance had convinced her otherwise. I leant over and stuffed my arms with the oversized fruit basket, two beautifully wrapped presents complete with frilly bows, and a bouquet of tulips. Eden had noticed they were Mum’s favourite after scoping out her social media page…right after she’d hit the ‘request friend’ button. Mum had sent me three messages gushing about it.
I lumbered up the driveway.
Eden hadn’t even unbuckled her seatbelt.
She was still sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the windscreen, her eyes locked on the orange bricks of my parents’ house. Carefully, I set down the gifts, risking Eden’s wrath by tucking the tulips into the fruit basket, and headed to the passenger door. Opened it. Held out my hand. Flashed an encouraging smile.
She didn’t budge.
“Coming in?” I asked.
“Um.” She fumbled to unclip the seatbelt. “Y-Yeah.”
She tripped as she got out of the car, but I stuck my arm out, catching her before she toppled to her knees on the driveway. I frowned. I’d never seen her this unsteady on her feet. She charged around in six-inch heels more comfortably than I walked around in my old Chucks—the pair of shoes I would’ve worn to my parents’ place if she hadn’t recoiled in horror.
“You okay?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked her that.
“Yeah,” she lied, not for the first time, either. Except now, she was sucking down breaths like she’d run across town. She bent over, scrambling to get a hand on the car bonnet to steady herself.
I touched her shoulder. “Denny Dee?”
Eden’s head shook from side to side. “I can’t go in there.” Wide eyes barely skimmed the modest house over my shoulder. “I can’t.”
Was she worried about…the…house?
Although the style was dated and had little street appeal, people passing always commented on Dad’s perfect lawn and Mum’s messy cottage garden. It was the only house I’d ever known. It wasn’t on the ‘right’ street or in the ‘right’ suburb for the people I worked with, but this was Eden. She wasn’t like them. She’d spent her last weekend off working at a barbecue fundraiser to raise extra money for the youth centre. She was there two nights a week. She didn’t care where people came from, only wanting to lift them up so they got where they wanted to go.
No, the house wasn’t the problem.
“Come on,” I said, making sure the low tone of my voice was reassuring. “Let’s go inside.”
“I can’t . It’s a home , Zach. A proper home . A family lives there.”
My heart twisted in my chest. There it was. The real reason she was nervous. “Yeah, a family does live there. Your family.”
Eden jolted up straight. “M-My…” A blink.
“Hate to break it to you,” I said casually, trying—probably failing—to keep the mood light, “but I’m pretty sure Mum has adopted you whether or not we stay together.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“What about all my, you know… issues?”
I shrugged. “If I can deal with your leftover toast crumbs, so can my parents.”
Eden’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I meant.” She took a deep breath, trying to be brave, but spoke to the hands twisting her dress into a crinkled mess. “My daddy issues.”
I stomped down the anger exploding behind my carefully guarded expression. I hated her labelling herself because of her father’s abuse. She was strong. She’d achieved so much. But it wasn’t going to be an easy road to prove to her that not all men were like him. And that was okay. I was all in no matter how long it took.
“You know what?” I said. “Girls wouldn’t have any issues if their dads were good men who did the hard work. So, you’ve got some stuff you need help with, hey, guess what, so do the rest of us. Did you run away screaming when I told you how I coped—didn’t cope—when Mum got sick?”
She scoffed. “Of course not. You did the best you could.”
“And you are, too. The woman you are today is because of all your experiences, good and not so good.” I touched her cheek. Dropped a kiss there. “And I want it all, Denny Dee.”
She bit back a cautious smile. “All the drama?”
“Until the curtain’s called.”
“All my schemes?”
“I’ll hit play on your villain theme song.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, but the grin was there. The crinkles around her eyes were a dead giveaway. She’d hated the card I’d sent her all those months ago, but I honestly loved her smile. I wished I could see it. Not just in that moment. Always.
“I…” Emotion gripped my throat. My breath was gone, stuck somewhere in lungs that didn’t work anymore, but the words were back, ready to burst out of me.
I love you.
Something achingly hopeful danced in Eden’s dark eyes, but if I finally said the words, there was no guarantee she’d whisper them back. Did that matter? Hadn’t I always wished I’d said the words sooner? What was I waiting for?
I took a deep breath. No stammering. All courage.
“I love you, Eden.”
“Y-Yeah?”
I nodded, and she…burst into tears.
“Shit!” I scrambled to my feet. “Shit!”
I bounced on the spot in a strange sort of dance to nowhere. Adrenaline pumped through my limbs. Run for help? Fight off…nothing? My brain was going haywire. Eden’s eyes lifted, helpless, tears dribbling down her cheeks, her hands flapping in a panic.
I dropped to my knees. “Your makeup.” I stuck my hands in my pocket and fumbled for a tissue. Nada. I bunched up the sleeve of my sweater and dabbed under her eyes. I tried to smile, but it probably wasn’t reassuring. It was twitchy, wobbly, all over the place. “This isn’t exactly the reaction a man hopes for when he says I love you.” I pressed the cotton against the wet spots on her cheeks.
“It’s the only one I can give at the moment,” she admitted in a quiet voice.
I hid my disappointment by kissing her temple. “I’ll take it.” It would’ve been great if she’d said it back, but I didn’t regret telling her how I felt. The words weren’t stuck inside me anymore. The tightness was gone from my chest. I could breathe again.
I picked up the gifts, stuck the fruit basket under my arm, and lobbed my free arm around Eden’s waist.
“I can walk,” she huffed.
“Yeah, but you’re a flight risk.” I chuckled. “And I like it when you’re beside me.”
Eden stuck close to me up the driveway and angled even closer when I rang the doorbell. I’d never pressed that doorbell in my entire life.
A shadow moved behind the door.
Mum was already there but desperately trying to hide her excitement. Another beat passed before the door flew open. My mother stood there, her smile almost a rictus grin, her entire body stiff. She’d promised not to overwhelm Eden, but I had a feeling everything we’d talked about on our phone call that morning was about to be forgotten.
“Zach and—” She pressed a hand to her heart. Oh no. She was already crying. All restraint evaporated. “Eden! It’s so wonderful to meet you!” She flung herself across the threshold and crushed my shocked girl in a hug. “You’re even more darling in person! So tall! No wonder you always look so lovely in all your photos.”
“So much for playing it cool, Ma,” I muttered.
Mum swatted me. “Shush.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Maree.” Eden shuffled from foot to foot. “We, um—” She waved a hand at the gifts tucked under my arm.
“What’s all this?” Mum readjusted her glasses. “Honey, that’s so thoughtful of you! I just love presents. Zach’s dad, John—you’ll meet him—he’s absolutely dreadful at giving presents. Last Christmas—”
“Ma.”
“—you wouldn’t even believe it if you saw it with your own eyes! He bought me fertiliser—”
“Ma,” I said through gritted teeth. “He chose it because you like gardening.”
“Fertiliser! For Christmas!” Mum scoffed. “If Eden’s going to be part of the family, she needs to be prepared for whatever terrible—”
“Ma!”
Eden laughed. “I’m looking forward to our first Christmas.” She squeezed my hand.
“Me too.” Our first Christmas. Together. My heart skipped. “And have no fear—as you know, I happen to be excellent at choosing gifts.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
“You’re…improving.”
I grinned. “I’ll take it.”
Mum waved for us to follow her inside. “I hope you haven’t eaten! We’re having lamb with all the trimmings.”
“Ma.” I groaned. “You didn’t need to go to all the trouble of making a roast.”
She ushered us into the living room. “You don’t fill tummies with salads, Zachary,” she hissed as she shoved me towards the sofa.
“God help me,” I mumbled.
I was arranging the gifts on the coffee table under Eden’s watchful eye when Dad wandered into the living room.
“Hey, mate.” He patted a quick hello on my shoulder and then fussed with the collar on his shirt, looking at me, Mum, and finally Eden. After staring at her with an uncertain tilt of his head, he eventually stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Mum glared at him.
Self-conscious, Dad glanced at his hand. “I washed up.” He rubbed it down the front of his jeans just to make sure and stuck it back out.
“John, really.” Mum sighed. “A handshake?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
“She’s Zach’s, erm…well…” Mum twittered a laugh and fluffed her hair.
Sensing the awkwardness, Eden stuck out her hand, catching Dad by surprise when her fingers closed around his to pump his hand up and down in an efficient shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rawles.”
“John.” He broke out with a rare smile. “Strong handshake. Better than the little punk who runs the mower shop.”
Mum let out a mortified groan. “John, really!” She quickly recovered to flash Eden a warm smile. “Ignore that big lug of a man. You two sit down. We’ll bring in some drinks and a few nibblies so we can chat before dinner.”
Dad tugged at the collar of his shirt again. “You never said anything about chat—”
Mum yanked him away. “We’ll be right back.”
Once they’d left the room, I turned to Eden with an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” I said. “That’s, ah—yeah, so that’s my parents.”
“Zach, they’re amazing! And look at this place!” Her head swivelled to take in the walls jammed with knickknacks and photos. “I love it. It’s a real home.” She was grinning when she headed straight for the row of pictures in the china hutch. “Oh my gosh! Are these you?”
“Ah, yeah.” I started flipping down all the frames. “We don’t need to see those.” Ever.
Eden squealed. “Stop that!” She swatted my hand. “Teenage Zach is adorable.”
My brows rose. I’d shot up to six feet by the time I was thirteen and would’ve been lucky if I was fifty kilos sopping wet. Gangly arms and legs. Glasses. Braces. The whole bingo card for an awkward youth.
“You need glasses, too, Denny Dee?”
Eden poked her tongue out at me and shuffled around the living room, lifting the frames to peek at all my embarrassing photos, her fingers almost reverent on all the dusty knickknacks and along the back of Mum’s prized suede sofa.
My phone pinged.
I sighed. If Mum was texting me instructions from the kitchen… I slipped my phone out of my pocket.
“Huh.”
Chris
I’m sorry if I said something to upset you on Friday night. I’m only looking out for you. If I overstepped, I apologise.
Let’s get a coffee tomorrow morning.
“Everything all good?” Eden asked.
“It’s Chris.”
Her chin dropped. “But it’s Sunday night,” she whispered.
She was worried I was going to abandon her and head to work. I had before. Not tonight. I didn’t even bother responding to Chris’s apology. Something about his message left me cold. I turned off my phone and put my hand to much better use clutching Eden’s waist. I dipped my head. Kissed her shoulder.
“He apologised for what happened at the gala,” I said.
“Which was…?”
“Like I told you, he overstepped his mark.”
Eden huffed. She was still pissed off at me for not telling her why I’d grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the bar. What good would come of telling her? Chris’s comments had been cruel and entirely uncalled for. I wasn’t letting one word of that filth come out of my mouth.
“He made some bullshit comment about me, didn’t he?” she guessed.
“Dee—”
“I know you admire him—he’s been a big help to your career—so I’m being very selective with my words.”
“But?”
“I don’t like him. Not one bit. Even if I somehow manage to put aside the way he treated you when your mum was sick—which I don’t think I can—I don’t like the way he glares at his fiancée, and I loathe the way he talks to her. He barks orders at her like she’s his damn servant.” Eden’s nose went in the air. “No thanks.”
“He gave me a chance when no one else would.”
“And you’ve paid him back a thousand times over by being fantastic at what you do. The way he treated you, Zach. I just—I— ugh . It makes me furious! You don’t owe him anything!” Eden breathed out, slow and steady. “Sorry.” She touched a hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I slung an arm around her to pull her close and kiss her forehead. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
A flash of grey hair disappeared from the doorway.
Without turning, I said, “We see you, Ma.”
A long laugh trilled from the hall. “Sorry. I didn’t realise you two were, um—” Another nervous laugh. “I’ve bought a few little things to nibble on.” Mum breezed into the living room with an overstuffed charcuterie board. “Your father’s bringing some wine.” She bent closer to whisper as she passed, “From the fancy section.”
“Geez, Ma, no one’s going to need dinner after all this.”
She glared at me and slid her wooden board neatly into place on the coffee table. She perched on the sofa and patted the spot beside her when Dad lumbered in with an open bottle of red and a handful of glasses.
Once the drinks were poured and shared, Mum asked, “Shall we toast? John?”
Eden grinned and held her glass the highest.
“May we be loved by those we love,” Dad said.
The glass trembled in Eden’s hand, but she was the first to lean over and clink with everyone.
“Oh!” she cried. “We can’t forget the gifts!”
She set down her wine, panicking when a drop sloshed on the glass coffee table, frantically scrubbing the spot clean before snatching a present to pass to Mum.
“Such pretty wrapping.” Mum positively beamed as she tugged off the ribbon and carefully nipped open the paper. “Oh.” She pressed a hand over her mouth. “Oh, honey, this is too much.” Loving fingertips hovered over the designer purse inside.
“Every woman needs her signature accessory.” Words Eden lived by, but her voice wavered, nervous. “Zach said your favourite colour’s purple.”
“Oh. It’s—I just—oh, honey, I love it!” Eyes brimming with tears, Mum launched from the sofa to capture Eden in a fierce hug. “John.” She flapped a hand at Dad as she shimmied in next to Eden. “Open yours.”
Dad dropped a suspicious look at the present resting in his lap.
Eden laughed. “I promise it’s not a purse.”
One of Dad’s lopsided smiles flashed, and he tore off the paper and flipped the lid to the box. His thick brows shot up. “Tickets to the final?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, um…”
Eden didn’t know his subtle signs yet, and the longer he tried to process receiving such a nice gift, the more she chewed on her lip. “Front row seats!” She hyped it up even though she had no idea why it was so special. “My friend Sam arranged everything.”
Mum sniffed. “Friend.”
“Ma,” I warned.
“Zachary, do I need to remind you about the baguette?” She skewered me with a glare.
Eden burst out laughing.
Mum’s eyes darted between us.
“Eden saw the message,” I explained. “She knows what you mean when you refer to the baguette. ”
Eden patted Mum’s knee. “Sam’s definitely just a friend,” she reassured her. “I’m also happy to report there was never any, um… baking .”
Frowning, Dad glanced at all of us, uneasy. “What on earth are you lot talking about?”
It had been a long time since so much laughter filled my parents’ living room.