Chapter 32
P retty freaking long.
“You’re caving, aren’t you?” Rosa bites a carrot near my ear.
We’re watching Dean clean my yard from our parent’s bedroom window.
Technically, I came in here to look outside—for fun, you know, when I saw him mowing our front lawn.
His tattoos are on full display and I’m proud of him for not hiding it.
Over a month of observing his long-sleeved shirts tells me the muscle-tee is a big deal.
“Don’t you have someone’s heart to fix?” I groan when she takes another loud, aggravating bite.
“Yes,” she purposefully chews obnoxiously. “ Yours .”
Pretty sure she spits out a piece of squished carrot on my shoulder.
Dean should’ve gone home the next day. He has work, his family, and whatever else he does when he isn’t following me around.
But a week has passed since the initial shock of seeing him in my house.
He’s made himself pretty damn comfortable.
I’ve been ignoring him as much as I can.
It doesn’t help that he’s sleeping in my room and Nadine’s is the one across from it.
Every morning, we walk out at the same time.
He attempts a sad smile, but I huff and walk away.
I almost gave in this morning when he tried making a bouquet out of Ma and Tatay’s inconsolable backyard garden.
At least the weeds look cozy for infested insects.
In the daytime, he's in the garage. I smell wood, cutting, and large noises but I don’t peek inside.
Rosa doesn’t share what he’s doing even though she’s been out there, and Nadine can’t stand the smell, but she knows too.
He should be making a guillotine because if someone doesn’t feed my curiosity, I’m snipping off his head for hectoring off mine.
Math is hard, Science is hard, and ignoring Dean should be too, but it doesn’t. Seeing him in Cornwall lights my eyes up like a match. You can’t extinguish this flame. He’s here, trying his best to be around the people I love most in order to feel worthy of me.
It doesn’t help that my parents and sisters love him.
I told him Nadine would be the hardest to warm up to, but she proved me wrong.
She’s been chit-chatting with him every night in the living room.
Rosa makes them coffee and they sit around our coffee table and talk.
Most times it’s about the lawsuit—still waiting on Mr. Cartwright’s lawyer to contact about the written will—other times, it’s about me.
I sit at the top of the stairs, listening to Nadine and Rosa tell Dean about my childhood.
I wanted to scream when they told him about the one time I hid a used period pad in my room because all the bathrooms were occupied, and I had no choice.
Dean doesn’t laugh at it like my sisters do, instead I heard him say: “ She has a creative mind.”
Not that anyone should consider hiding used period pads creative .
“Ma’s been telling everyone he’s your boyfriend.” Nadine joins the other side of me.
Rosa snorts, then wipes her mouth. “Tatay’s telling everyone he’s her future husband.”
I close my eyes, pray for patience, then open to see both my sisters looking at me with ugly smiles. I’m about to reply when Rosa’s phone buzzes.
“Shit, it’s the hospital.” She’s already halfway across the room. “I’ll be back, one sec.”
Leaving Nadine and I alone, watching Dean.
But I look over to her bump. I’m curious if it’s hard or soft. If the little bean in there is moving, breathing, ready for this outrageous place we call world .
“Do you want to feel?” I’m snapped out by a prick of a needle when she asks.
She lets out an airy laugh, taking my hand and placing it over her round belly. It’s harder than expected, but tough—strong. She’s been carrying a baby—my sister, my best friend—for months . “I hope she’s like you,” she whispers.
That’s when the baby lands a redoubtable kick against my palm.
I look at Nadine with wide eyes. “She kicked! She?—”
Gasping, “Oh my god, it’s a girl! Does everyone know?”
“You’re the first,” she smiles, warm and steady. “Easton doesn’t know yet.”
Pulling my lips inside, “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you throughout the pregnancy.”
“Baby girl,” she pulls me into her arms, soothing me with calm words. She’s going to be a wonderful mother. “I know why you weren’t texting or calling.”
My spine goes rigid.
She keeps talking, rubbing circles on my back.
“You’re my number one baby. We’re going to continue growing together and without each other, but that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about you.
There’s not a single day where I don’t mention you to Easton or your niece.
You’re my favourite person, Nova.” Nadine pulls back and cups my cheeks, staring into my eyes as she wipes away tears.
“If anything, I’m jealous of Dean. He gets to be with the Nova who showed me what love feels like. ”
She says what I didn’t know I needed to hear. From the conversation I had with Dean in Zermatt, to this moment. Nadine heals an anxious black hole that would’ve chewed me out.
“I haven’t decided on taking him back yet,” my voice wobbles.
She lightly smacks my arm, “But you will. I’ve never seen a man so deathly afraid of ocean water yet still manage to help Tatay .”
An image of Dean holding onto the edge of the boat and helping Tatay grab a hold of thrashing salmon comes to mind. I would laugh if I wasn’t falling deeper in love.
“I want to know if I can trust him,” I say truthfully.
“Hasn’t he proved that you can?” She points outside. The lawn mower is off and when I look down, Dean’s pulling out stubborn weeds. “If you’re certain you don’t want to be with him, then you need to tell him soon.”
“Hey, did you guys see this?” Rosa walks back in, colourful notes in hand.
“Rosa, I left them on my door for a reason.” She has a habit of sticking her nose everywhere.
“Okay yeah,” she waves at the air. “But like, have you seen it?”
She gets on the carpet, organizing the post-its Dean’s been leaving every morning on my door. Nadine moves, standing behind us.
I should have respected your wishes the second you told me you didn’t want help.
I watched you with Lottie one morning and would pet her to convince myself I could feel your touch.
Then the post-its change from notes to mimics of his tattoos.
First is the Nerium .
Your beauty withstands the roots.
Second is an Orange Blossom.
A scent that reminds me of you.
Violets.
You’re too modest. Learn to let that go a little bit.
Anemones.
A reminder that we will overcome the storm.
Each drawing is wonky, but it’s all his.
“Do you know how they’re placed on his arm?”
Rosa’s reaching conclusions, again.
I place the drawings like Dean’s tattoos.
Their gasps are in sync. Nadine kicks my lower back.
“Ouch,” I glare. “What is wrong with?—”
“He loves you,” she smiles with all teeth. She looks like Chucky right now.
“I know that already, you don’t?—”
Rosa smacks the back of my head, forcing me to look at the notes. “No, you idiot. He loves you.”
I follow their sight and my heart stammers.
Nerium. Orange Blossom. Violets. Anemones.
Dean’s tattoos spell out my name.
I have a lot of core memories. My grade eight graduation when I took my heels off and ran to the buffet barefoot, the morning I got my first period and laughed hysterically, when I left a secret admirer letter on my crush’s desk. But none of them hit me like this.
It’s bright. Blindingly so. It doesn’t walk around the shelves full of core memories to find an empty slot, it walks past each, barely glancing at them when it reaches the place full of emotions and carves a new one out of love, replacing it with its subtle light by spelling out Dean’s name in big bold letters .
I don’t have anything to say, but everything to feel . I have questions, lots of them.
“Still not caving in?” Rosa teases by nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Uh guys,” we snap out of staring in awe and look up at Nadine. She’s reading a message off her phone. “Ms. Cartwright found out about the will. A trial date is set for Friday.”
“But it’s Wednesday,” I’m on my feet, staring at the message. It’s from her lawyer.
“We don’t know if the will is valid yet,” Rosa joins on the other side.
“She knows that. She’s trying to beat us before we can provide evidence.”
“No court gives dates that early,” I say, trying to convince them that we can change it.
“They do on Prince Edward Island.”
This island loves gossip and wherever the Rivera’s are? Drama follows.
The next two days go by in a flash. Nadine’s nowhere to be seen, preparing endlessly for the trial. Mr. Cartwright’s lawyer still hasn’t gotten back to us and it’s unbelievably terrifying how my heart feels like it might need a transplant after today.
The house is dark and everyone’s still asleep.
Yesterday, Austin posted an apology on social media about deceiving the public about me and Dean.
His comments were full of hate and people throwing tomatoes.
The production chat messaged that all contestants will be compensated for their time, which brings a bit of hope.
Because then I’ll have a bit of money and can hopefully make 15k by the end of the year. Whatever happens, it'll work out.
I’m watching the sun rise, illuminating the sky with orange and pink.
“You’re up early,” the deep timbre of syllables causes an internal tumble.
His reflection greets me in the window. Warmth floats around me, then freezes when I catch the bag hitched over his shoulder.
Whipping my head around, “You’re leaving?”
Dean grips the bag tighter, knuckles whitening. “Something came up.”
“I’m on trial today.” Don’t leave me.
“You’ll be great,” he says with intense warranty.
We stare until a blink breaks us apart. “Will you be back?” I ask in the quiet air.
His Adam's apple bobs, telling me what he can’t.