Chapter 30
THIS IS A GUILT NANAIMO BAR.
DARCY
We have a routine now, six days into this new arrangement.
She comes over when she’s done with work, and I feed her—not literally, because she would hate that so very much.
I always make sure I have snacks at the ready, and despite being a shit cook, I’ve attempted more than grilling every single meal.
I used a food delivery service in Toronto, but Balsam Bay definitely doesn’t have one of those, and my city kid ways are starting to show.
But I’m trying, and that’s gotta count for something.
I’ve finished another surfing lesson when my phone pings.
Beth:
Incoming proof that I’m not the only one who has run-ins with Tammy!
The next thing I know, there’s a photo of Cole giving the camera the finger, a pink-and-brown pig trotting behind him.
Beth:
Matty just sent me this.
Somebody really needs to turn that jerk into some delicious bacon.
Mmm bacon. I’m so hungry. I forgot my lunch again!
I swear this woman forgets to eat more often than not.
Me:
Where are you today?
Her response is instant.
Beth:
At your place! Ended up having to come help the team with something and stayed.
Figures, she’s spending the day at my house on one of the few days I’m gone. Therapy has been good, and I’m glad I opted to connect with someone here who can continue sessions with me virtually once I’m back in Toronto.
This morning’s early appointment had me completely drained, though, and rather than coming back to town, I drove an hour to Port Mouton for a quick surf.
Except, all I did was sit on my board and take in the scenery.
It was worth it, though, and worked to get me out of the post-therapy funk after talking about my career for an hour.
Investment banking used to be all I wanted to do. All I wanted to be, really. It was exciting and challenging, and I’m damn good at it.
Today, Gordon decided to try to figure out exactly when it became less exciting. He asked me when I realized the pressure was also a thrill, and then dug into how and when that thrill morphed into anxiety. We talked a lot about when the pressure began to cause more damage than good.
At first, I thought it might have been when Leo left, but I was still feeling great then.
I don’t know if there was a single moment that pushed me too far, to the edge of the cliff that caused the first panic attack. It just sort of… happened. And there I was, on the floor, not knowing what the hell was going on. Fine one minute, and then the next, not fine at all.
At least the waves helped me clear my head a little. And now I get to go home to see my favorite girl. But not before I make a couple of pit stops first…
Thirty minutes later, I’m home with a box full of sandwiches, cookies, and cold drinks. It’s an excuse for me to make sure Billie eats, but I couldn’t show up with food just for her, so there’s enough for everyone.
I press my index finger and thumb against my tongue and let out a loud whistle, getting the attention of the four people working on the guesthouse.
“Lunch!” I yell. The response is a clatter of tools and cheers.
Chuckling, I start setting everything on the outdoor dining table, and soon Amanda, Stephanie, Liam, and Billie are joining me.
Liam is fairly new to the team and a little shy, but I can tell he’s already a good fit. He works hard and seems eager to learn. “You brought us all lunch?” he asks, setting his lunch bag down on the floor.
“Well, yeah, but if you’d rather eat whatever you brought, go for it. I just got sandwiches.” I shrug, passing Billie a sandwich with extra mayo because she loves that shit.
“I have dry baby carrots with no dip and an untoasted bagel with plain cream cheese in there. This is amazing.” Liam smiles as he settles into a chair.
“Also, these are not just sandwiches, Darcy.” Stephanie picks one up, tossing the tightly wrapped BLT in the air and catching it.
“These are Poppa’s sandwiches. And those are Mrs. Turnbull’s cookies.
You made multiple stops for this lunch, big guy.
We appreciate it.” Poppa’s and Shore Thing are quite literally down the street from one another, so it’s not like I went far, but it’s nice to be appreciated, nonetheless.
There’s a chorus of “thank you” around the table as everyone digs in.
“You got me extra bacon,” Billie says once she’s swallowed her first bite, loud enough for only me to hear.
I’d be lying if I wasn’t at least a little pleased she’s sitting next to me.
Her eyes go wide, and she looks down at the beautiful sandwich in her hands, made with the freshest of fresh ingredients, including bread that Poppa bakes every morning.
“And mayo.” It’s barely a whisper, and she digs back in, taking a healthy bite and throwing her head back.
When she looks back down, she sighs happily.
“I love you so much.” That comes out loud enough for everyone to hear, and we all laugh at her sincere declaration to her lunch.
“She’ll be saying that to you next, Darcy.” Amanda laughs while my whole body stiffens.
“What? N-no, she won’t.” I chuckle, but it’s forced and comes out all squeaky. Not that I would mind Billie declaring her love to me, but she’s made it clear this is temporary and casual. I can’t fuck it up less than a week in.
“Oh, she will when she sees the Nanaimo bar with the cookies.” Amanda points to the now-open box, and my cheeks heat. Damn. I meant to take that out and save it for later.
“Aw, you remembered.” Billie nudges me playfully. “He totally took the last bar on a day I very badly needed one. This is a guilt Nanaimo bar.”
“What?” I screech. “I gave you the bar.”
“Pfft. After you’d taken a huge bite out of it.” She rolls her eyes, then smiles at me, the little shit disturber that she is. And I fall a little harder.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I smile back, loving how silly she can be.
Amanda clears her throat. “Didn’t realize there was, uh, history there.”
“You know I have all kinds of history with food,” is Billie’s quick response. “So, Liam, did you end up getting all your stuff moved in okay?”
As Liam goes on about how he still has a few boxes left to unpack, Amanda watches Billie and me with narrowed eyes. I keep my mouth shut and avoid eye contact with her for the remainder of our lunch. She’s worked with Billie the longest, and she doesn’t miss a beat.
Right before three o’clock, Billie knocks on the back door, letting herself in a moment later, but not removing her shoes like she usually does. “Hey. We’re done early, and we need to let a few things set and dry before we can move on, so, uh, I can go home and come back later, or…”
I stand from my spot at the kitchen island, where I was going over more numbers for the marina proposal. “Is everyone gone already?”
“Uh-huh.”
I quicken my steps toward her and pull her in by her waist. “And do you need to go home for anything?”
“Not really, no.”
I smile and lean down to catch her lips in a quick kiss. “Then why would you leave, darling?” I drop to my knees and start to pull off her boot.
“Well, I need a shower.” She doesn’t fight me as I move on to the next foot. “And I’m getting hungry.”
I chuckle, straightening and taking her hand in mine as she closes the door. “What do you feel like eating?”
“Do you have any Nutella?”
“Of course I do.” I reluctantly release her, walking to the pantry to get her what she wants. When I round the corner, she’s got a half-peeled banana in one hand and a butter knife in the other.
“Come to Mama,” she whispers as I open the jar for her. I love how much she loves to eat. When she remembers to do it, that is.
“What—” My question dies in my mouth as she starts to spread the Nutella on the banana and takes a bite of it, humming her appreciation. My grin is so big, it makes my cheeks hurt. “I love y—your weird little quirks.”
She slathers more Nutella on the banana and pumps her eyebrows as I push away the inappropriate words that were about to fly out of my mouth. “Oh, I know. I’m an endearing, quirky weirdo.”
I nod, swallowing down the heavy emotions building up too quickly for me to ignore.