Chapter 36 MAEVYN
“Callie has different parents than you, right, West?” Aurora asks from the back seat as the three of us drive to Westley’s parents’ house for Sunday breakfast.
“That’s right. We share a biological dad, but I don’t know him. I was adopted as a baby. The people you’ll meet today are who I call Mum and Dad.”
My hand, where it rests over his thigh, squeezes gently.
The way Westley sees family brings such comfort to my skewed version; it’s almost as if I’m trying to hold onto that feeling and claim a little for myself.
It’s also reminding me to stop freaking out about what they might think of me.
If Westley is a product of their love and compassion, they sound like good people.
“Do you have any other siblings?” Aurora continues.
“You know Callie, obviously. We also share a brother, Caspian. Those two have the same mum.”
“Wow. You have a big family.”
Westley laces his fingers through mine as he smiles. “I do. I’m very lucky.”
My only want in life has been keeping Aurora safe. I’m not sure if I know how to want things for myself. If I won the lotto tomorrow, what would I do with it? If there were no limits to what I could do, no risk of being found, what would I want?
Something solid settles inside me as I realise I wouldn’t change anything about our life right now.
I look into the back seat again. Aurora looks out the window, but when she senses my attention, turns to me with a beaming smile. I did it. I gave her what I never had. Safety. A real home. Happiness.
“Here we are,” Westley says as his ute pulls into the driveway of an old red brick home.
That confidence I had a moment ago shatters as sick tension swirls in my stomach, nausea crawling up my throat. I’ve never been worried about making a good impression before, not on a level this personal.
Double gates are wide open, with a gravel drive that leads down to a large shed at the end, and a small grassed area to the right is bordered with tall flowers.
Westley brings his car to a stop and hops out while Aurora and I wait in our seats.
“Don’t forget to use your manners,” I say. “And don’t talk with your mouth full. And even if you don’t like the food, just pretend you do.”
“Mum, I wasn’t raised in a barn. I know how to interact with people.” She leans forward, poking her head over my chair as I stare into my reflection in the mirror, double-checking my lipstick. “Are you nervous?”
“No!” That’s a big fat lie.
Both our doors open, and Westley stands proudly between them with a hand on each handle, like he was made to open doors. Veins ripple over his thick forearms, looking so good, it’s powerful enough to steal my thoughts for a blissful moment.
“Mum’s nervous.”
I slap the window visor closed as I whip my head around, gaping at Aurora as she steps out of the car.
“Aurora!”
Westley closes Aurora’s door once she’s out, then leans into me, where I’m still frozen to my seat. His warm palm grips the side of my neck, firm but gentle.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, calm and sweet.
I close my eyes, inhaling through my nose. “I wish Callie could’ve come. Her baby bump would have been my buffer.”
She was meant to come with us, but Liv’s babysitter fell through, and she needed someone to watch Daisy for a few hours.
“You don’t need a buffer.” Westley’s thumb strokes along my jaw. “You have nothing to worry about.”
He drops a peck against my lips, then leans in to unbuckle my seatbelt and pulls me out of the car.
I tug on the sleeves of my shirt. Technically, it’s West’s.
The green flannel that I stole from him after camp and refuse to give back cos it smells like him.
I fiddle with my outfit, before Westley snatches a hand and locks it with his.
He pulls us toward the house, where there’s a small set of stairs leading up to the porch.
He doesn’t bother knocking, just opens the security screen and nods for Aurora to go through first.
“Knock, knock,” Westley calls as we step into the front hallway.
“Kinda null and void when you’re already in the house,” says an older man standing at the end of the hallway.
He’s got one hand in the pocket of his jeans, a steaming mug in the other.
Westley chuckles as he steps past me and wraps an arm behind the man’s back. “Hey, Dad.”
The two men are almost the same height, but Westley’s dad stands a little taller. He’s got dark stubble spotted with patches of grey, the same pattern that extends to his dreadlocks.
“And who do we have here?” His dad keeps an arm hanging over Westley’s shoulder as they stand side by side, taking in Aurora and me.
Westley’s smile is big and proud as he introduces us. “This is Maevyn, and her daughter Aurora. This is my dad, Chris.”
“Oh my god, Joan, I need to go!” An excited voice echoes from a distant room. “They’re here! They’re here!” Hurried footsteps clamber over floorboards until a tiny lady bumps into Chris.
She looks like Mrs Claus in her prime. Bronze curls that bounce on her shoulders, hands clasped at her chest, decorated with silver glitter nail polish, and a pink apron with red ruffles along the edges. Script along the front reads, Not just queen of the kitchen.
“I’m so happy you’re here.” She steps forward, taking my hand and Aurora’s in each of hers. “I’m Sherie, but you can call me Chev.”
“I’m Maevyn.” I clear my throat, trying to banish the wobble in my throat. “This is Aurora.”
Chev’s hands cup our cheeks as she looks between us. Her palm is warm and soft, and a hint of berries teases from her perfume. The combination somehow settles my nerves.
“Absolutely beautiful. I can’t wait to hear all about how you met our Westley. Come.” She hooks an arm through mine and wraps her other around Aurora’s shoulders, leading us through the hallway. “Let’s have something to eat.”
“Hi, Mum.” Westley waves a hand as we pass him by.
Chev quickly glances over her shoulder. “Oh, hello, sweetheart.”
Aurora and I chuckle as we’re led through the house. The walls are covered in framed photos, and my eyes manage to find Westley throughout the years in most of them.
We come to a kitchen with powder blue walls and white cabinetry.
A round, dark wood table sits on the other side of the room, already laid out with plates and cutlery and a jug of orange juice in the centre.
It looks like a classic family kitchen, the kind always brimming with home-cooked food and endless love.
“Take a seat, dears,” Chev says as she points to the table, then crosses to the kitchen. “Can I get you a tea or coffee, Maevyn?”
I start to stand up, wanting to be helpful, but a gentle hand lands on my shoulder. “I’ve got it, baby.” Westley winks down at me. “Do you want a drink, Aurora?”
“I’m good with orange juice, thanks.” Aurora picks up the jug in the centre of the table and pours herself a glass just as Chris joins us at the table.
“What year are you in at school, Aurora?” Chris asks.
“Seven. I go to Heart City Secondary College.”
“Oh, that’s a fabulous school,” Chev says as she places a baking dish on the counter.
I lay a hand over Aurora’s. “She got a scholarship through the drama program.”
“Ahh, you want to act?” Chris asks.
Aurora shakes her head as she places her glass back down on the table. “Not really. I like writing or directing. I got into the program by submitting a short film that I wrote, acted in, and directed.”
“My goodness. What a bright young lady.” Chev comes over to the table, placing a big dish in the centre with scrambled eggs and mini pancakes. “Don’t trouble yourself, dear. I’ll bring all the food over,” she murmurs, flicking her tea towel behind Chris’s head as she turns back to the kitchen.
Chris leans over to Aurora, speaking low as he spies his wife with a devious grin. “Forty years I’ve tried to help this woman in the kitchen, she never lets me.”
“Mum and I like to work together in the kitchen,” Aurora says.
“Oh, that’s so special.” Chev brings another dish of food to the table, filled with sausages and grilled tomatoes. “Westley’s a wonderful cook. He always helped me in the kitchen as a child.”
“He helped us make your fairy bread cookies a few weeks ago,” I say as Westley hands a steaming hot mocha to me.
“Did he now?” Chev’s face lights up as she watches Westley take the seat beside me. “That recipe—” She stops abruptly, brows furrowed at the mug in my hands, midway to my mouth. Her head whips to her son with an unimpressed purse of her lips. “Westley Kade. What are you doing giving her that mug?”
I look down, startled by big black text that says I have a big, with a cartoon rooster underneath it.
Aurora and Chris muffle their laughter, and I’m sure my cheeks turn as red as the tomatoes being served.
“Oh my god!” I hiss at West.
“What?” He shrugs. “It was in her cupboard.”
Chev’s shoulders slump forward, with a resigned sigh. “It was a gag gift.”
The table is silent for all of three seconds before Westley, Chris, and I burst into laughter.
“Ohhh, not like that!” Chev cries. “I got it at a friend’s sexy sixty birthday party.”
“Sounds like a fun party.” I laugh.
Chev’s hands clutch her pink cheeks. “I’m so embarrassed. Westley!” She scolds her son with a playful hit to his shoulder.
“No need to be embarrassed on my account. I’m not sure how much Westley’s told you about me,” I say, my heart in my throat as I prepare myself for how they may react to my line of work.
“He’s been rather secretive, actually.” Chev sends a coy smile to her son.
“I work at a beauty salon five days a week,” I say as Westley picks up my plate and starts piling it with a bit of everything. “And twice a week, I dance at a club called The Matchbox.”
“What kind of dancing do you do?” Chev asks.
My hand spins over my bracelets, where they’re hidden under the table, as I try to read Westley’s face for a hint of how much I should reveal.
“It’s an adult entertainment club,” he says.