Chapter 7
Seven
Emma
Today’s the day.
I thought about doing this next week, but the second we had the keys to the house, everyone wanted to move in.
So, Saturday it is.
Despite the moaning and groaning from the kids, we’re all at the house bright and early.
“Once your beds are in your rooms, you can have a lie down and stop complaining.” My words echo in the still empty house.
Jason crosses his arms.
He’s tired. We all are. The excitement levels at moving into our new home are at a high, and last night was an exercise in futility when it came to sleep.
“Come here.” I open my arms to him and he falls into them. “I’m sure if you want to have a nap, you can have a sleep in the back seat of the car.”
He eyes me warily. “But I want to see the truck and get my own bed.”
“I know, baby, and the movers will be here soon, but there’s a lot for them to unpack. It might be a while.”
Jason lets out a sigh.
“Tell you what. If you don’t want to sleep in the car, the couch will be here soon and you can lie down on that, okay?”
“Okay.” He rubs his eyes.
“Come on, bud. I’ll get you settled into the car.”
Noah leads his little brother away and I draw in a deep breath.
It’s going to be a long, tiring day.
Minutes later, the deep rumble of a truck engine alerts us all to the movers being here.
Slowly, the house begins to fill.
Everything’s labelled clearly, so once the movers get into a rhythm, each box goes to the right room and before too long, Jason’s snoring on the couch.
It’s so weird that even when we’re not unpacked, this house feels like home.
The best part of all is my room.
Before we left, I ordered myself a new bed. This is my fresh start. I’m not sure if I’ll ever share it with anyone else, but right now it’s all mine.
But before I can take advantage of my new bed, there’s a million other things to do as I go from room to room and make sure everything’s where it needs to be.
By the time I’m done, I head back downstairs. Jason’s busy setting up his room, and I drop to the couch, tired, but happy.
“I made your bed, Mum.” Bailey flops onto the couch beside me and rests her head on my shoulder.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but the bedding was right there, and you must be tired.”
“Thank you, my love.” I pop a kiss on the top of her head.
“I’m so glad we’re here.”
“Me too.”
She looks up at me through her eyelashes. “I like the school too. There’s this boy …”
“Don’t you even think about it.” I scowl.
Bailey laughs. “No, not like that. I think he’s going to be a good friend. That’s it. I know what happened to you when you were my age.”
My heart sinks. “Oh, sweetheart.”
“Dad would have killed me if I’d dated anyone back home. But maybe one day, I can …”
“Of course you can. But I’m not just going to let you run wild.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
I smile and pull her close. “I’m sure. But I need to make sure you’re safe.”
“I will be. We all will. It was always you we listened to. Dad didn’t have a clue about teenage girls, even though he married one.”
My throat goes dry. “Bailey.”
“We know what happened, Mum. Maybe Jason doesn’t, but it’s not really rocket science when we knew how long you were with Dad and how old you two were. Did you get married because of Noah?”
I lick my lips, frantic for the moisture. “Yes, but not in the way you might think.”
“Dad wasn’t Noah’s dad though, was he?”
Raising my free hand, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No, he wasn’t.”
“I knew it. He doesn’t look like any of us. Kiera used to think he was adopted, but I thought it was more likely that he just had a different father. Does Noah know who it is?”
“Not yet,” I croak.
“Oh.” Bailey raises her head. “I’m sorry. I won’t ask any more questions. I just wish there was another dad for all of us.”
My heart splinters. “No. You’re stuck with me.”
Her smile lights up her face. “We love you, Mum. Things are just going to still be weird for a while.”
“I know, but now we’re in our new house, and we can live the way we want.” I kiss her temple. “Now, I thought we might get something easy for dinner because there’s no food in the house yet. That’s tomorrow’s job.”
“Can we get pizza?”
“I’ll order it,” Noah says as he walks back into the room. We’ve had pizza twice since Malcolm died—he didn’t believe in wasting money on takeout food, and heaven forbid I have a night off cooking.
“Tell Noah what you want and go get your brother and sister.”
“Put your feet up, Mum,” he says.
“I’m going to, and then after dinner, I’m going to take a long bath that might just set world records.”
He laughs. “You deserve it.”
By the time I’ve finished my bath, the house is quiet.
Noah got the internet up and running after dinner, and while Jason’s fast asleep, the girls are in their own rooms on their computers.
It wasn’t something Malcolm allowed, but I bought the girls phones and laptops when he died because I felt they were old enough. There are still rules around the usage, and Noah helps me monitor it, but they’re also old enough to have some privacy.
Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the Airbnb and finalise everything there.
But for now, I settle on the couch in front of the television and enjoy some time to myself.
This is the most at peace I’ve felt in months, and it’s long overdue.
I can’t wait to see what this new life brings.
Monday morning is chaotic.
But once everyone’s off to school and Noah’s headed to a job interview, I take a moment to make a to-do list.
My priority is getting the decking out the back sorted. It’s clear that part of it rotted and that’s been demolished, but nothing’s been done before that. I need it redone so there’s a gentle step down to the back lawn and not the drop that exists right now.
I’m looking forward to sitting out there with a cup of coffee and enjoying the peace that comes with buying my own home.
Not Malcolm’s anymore.
No one else’s.
This is the legacy I’ll leave my children.
I’m nervous—Malcolm always took care of everything to do with the house, but it doesn’t take long to find listings for handyman businesses in the area.
The one with the best ratings looks good.
It’s local and when I click on the reviews, they’re glowing.
Might as well start with this one.
I pick up my phone and dial.
“Handy Home Services,” a bright female voice answers.
“Hi. My name is Emma, and I need to get some work done around my house. The deck needs rebuilding, and there are some doors and windows that need replacing or fixing.”
“I can send someone round to do a quote.” She’s so chirpy, and my racing heart begins to slow.
Why did I think this would be hard?
She doesn’t know I’m scared. This is just some woman on the phone asking about their services.
“That sounds great.”
“I can check the schedule and give you a call back if you’d like?”
I take a deep breath. “Wonderful.”
“If I could just get your name and number …”
For a moment I blank. “Uh, Emma. Emma N … Chase.”
Fuck him. I’m reclaiming me.
Once I’ve given her my number, I end the call, sitting for a moment and staring at my phone.
This is what freedom’s like. Sorting things out for myself.
That wasn’t anywhere near as difficult as I’d built up in my head, and I did it without needing Noah’s help.
I can do this.