Chapter 10
Chapter ten
It was the anniversary of August’s passing last week.
I think this is the first time I’ve been out during the day in two weeks.
I’ve spent my time at The Wayside, at group meetings, and with my punching bag at home.
Anything I can do to exhaust my brain, and at least sleep through some of the pain.
It’s no use. I toss and turn for a few hours and eventually give up, sitting on my back porch thinking about him instead.
Sometimes, I think of someone else. Someone with golden curls, blue eyes, and a heart of pure sunshine.
Will it ever get easier? The guilt? Missing him?
I saw his mum the other night, when we went to the cemetery together.
She’s so much stronger than I am, and it was her own flesh and blood that she lost. Her child.
She always tells me how proud August would be of me, of how much I do for others.
When I opened The Wayside, I wasn’t strong enough to do anything in his honour, but it still felt like a little piece of him.
Smoke and Barrel feels like another one of those little pieces.
Something that’s clicking into place and healing my heart from the pain of his absence.
I wasn’t even looking to open another bar when I told Caleb about my new idea.
I was on my laptop, making a donation for a local charity, and accidentally clicked on an ad in the sidebar.
It took me straight to a news article about the plans to bulldoze the old theatre.
I almost clicked out of it until my eye caught a line about two businesses trying to revive the place and failing, and without anyone willing to try a third time, it was destined to become a parking lot for the casino.
Ever since August passed, there have been moments where the number three would appear, and it would somehow feel like it was him.
He was the third August Carlisle in his family, always making a point of introducing himself with his whole title.
Whenever I see the number three, it feels like him popping in to let me know he’s still with me, or in some cases, pointing me in a direction I need to go.
That article was one of those moments. I called Caleb straight away and told him I wanted to try to take over the premises for an exclusive whiskey lounge.
Beth noticed my mood this week. She always does. The little devil is actually incredibly loving. She called me last night, demanding I accompany her to this fundraiser today.
Thistle Theory is a nursery owned by Grams’s friend, Estelle, and her daughter, Lauren.
With their other two friends, Ruth and Rita, they started Life Vine, an organisation that provides counselling and support for people going through abuse, grief, and trauma.
I’ve been a regular donor to the organisation since August died, and volunteer for events whenever I can.
This is one I normally skip, though. It’s so close to August’s passing, so I just double my usual donation and call it good.
“I wish I had a green thumb. This place is so beautiful to walk around.” Beth sighs as we stroll through the garden centre, her arm looped through mine.
The property is covered with old trees, towering over the land. There are pebbled paths that lead to each section, from roses to succulents, fruit trees, and shrubs. There’s a café on site, and wisteria growing over a long verandah. “I’m certain your bank account could afford you a gardener.”
She snorts. “I’m pretty sure people enjoy gardens for the satisfaction of doing it themselves. Isn’t that why you do it?”
I do it to keep my hands and mind busy. Giving myself a project, something to work towards, keeps me from focusing on things I can’t change.
“I guess so.” I shrug. “Don’t let me forget the stakes for my snapdragons.”
“You always have such nice flowers in your garden, yet you never bring me a handpicked bunch? What’s up with that, Henry?”
“Every time your name gets to the top of my list, you call me Henry.”
Beth scowls at me, running her tongue over her teeth. “Mark my words, one day, I’m gonna find a man who always brings me flowers.”
“Good. He should do that. And until that time, only if you’re nice to me, will I pick some from my garden for you.”
“Liar.” She hugs my arm, laughing. “Besides, I’m always nice to you.”
We continue to wander around for a bit. Beth finds some crystal jewellery that she makes me buy for her.
We join Grams and her friends for coffee, where they thank me profusely for my yearly donation, and then we continue to follow the paths through the centre to see more of the displays.
The side we’re on now is where most of the kids’ entertainment is.
It’s loud and bright, and I’m half scared I’m going to trample someone with the way the kids run around the place, completely free of thought.
“Who do you think will be first to continue the Heart line?” Beth asks as she watches a little girl in a fairy costume cut across our path.
“Caleb.”
“Seriously?” She snorts. “Why?”
Despite my advice to my older brother to pump the brakes on his feelings for Lex, I know he’s fighting a losing battle.
He’s been distracted since the party, where he found out she’s his new client. I’ve never seen my brother act like this, though. He doesn’t pursue women. He certainly doesn’t lose his mind over them, and lately, he’s seemed nothing but consumed by her.
“Have you not been noticing the same thing I have lately?” I ask.
“With Lex?”
I hum my agreement. “Can you remember a time he’s ever been like this?
He’s so scattered, he obsessively checks his phone.
I caught him smiling like the biggest cheeseball the other night when he was at The Wayside, and then he bailed after one beer.
The man is gone. I only hope it works out for him, because I’m too scared to think of how he might be if he gets his heart broken.
The man is completely unaccustomed to not getting his own way. ”
“I have a good feeling about them,” she says and pats my arm. “Oh, fairy floss! Buy me some?” Beth flutters her eyelashes as she looks up at me.
“Why am I buying you everything?”
“Because I don’t have a boyfriend to buy me nice things, so I need to rely on my brothers. Isn’t that sad?”
“Not really. You could literally buy anything you want for yourself. You don’t need a man.”
She stops us in the middle of the footpath, looking at me in contemplation before a devious smile crosses her face.
“You’re right, Henry. I’m a goddamn billionaire.
I can buy myself all the pretty things, and I make no apologies.
” She raises her hand for a high five, which I’m about to meet, until she adds, “I do prefer a man for the orgasms, though.”
“Nope, can’t do it.” I drop my hand and storm towards the fairy floss stand to buy my sister her treat.
She catches up to me and loops her arm through mine once more. Over the last ten years, going through the emotions that have ruled me, my family has been a constant pillar of strength with their love.
They are truly the thing that gets me through most days.
The Wayside keeps me busy, keeps me feeling in control, another thing that tapers the feeling of helplessness.
Same as volunteering and donating to charities.
But some days, I still just feel like I’m surviving instead of living.
Everything I do is to make up for what I failed at, so I don’t let anyone else down.
Will there be a time when that feeling goes away?
When I’m not actively trying to be okay, where life is so good, I forget about the parts that hurt?
“Isabelle! What a surprise,” Beth says, making my head swivel in every direction.
There she is, wearing fairy wings. Because, of course, she is.
She finds my sister, and immediate happiness shines through her features until she notices that I’m standing with Beth. She fumbles with a container of sprinkles she’s holding, sending a heap scattering over her table before she steadies the jar.
“Hey, you guys.” She rounds the table that sits under a gazebo decorated with ivy vines and twinkling lights, brushing her hands over her patchwork skirt.
It swishes around her, and with every step, my eyes are drawn to the smooth skin of her thighs that peek through, along with the pastel yellow high tops she’s wearing.
A denim vest is so tightly moulded to her chest, I’m losing blood to my brain. “Beth, I’m so glad you made it!”
I slowly look down at my sister, who just moments ago acted surprised at seeing Isabelle. Beth giggles and smacks my arm before she lets go of me to hug Isabelle.
“You look gorgeous! Look at your wings,” Beth says as she walks behind Isabelle, looking up and down at the shiny white wings on her back. The gold glitter patterns shimmer every time she turns and catches the light.
“Thank you.” Isabelle smiles. “We’re doing fairy floss and fairy bread, so it seemed fitting.”
“How did you end up manning a station?” I ask. Surely Caleb pays her enough that she doesn’t need a second job. Otherwise, I’ll be having words with my brother.
Those cornflower blue eyes finally look up at me, and it’s like a shot to my heart. Something bright and uplifting ripples through my chest and down my limbs. It’s that settling feeling that seems to happen whenever she directs her attention at me.
“My mum works here, and my sisters and I volunteer for this fundraiser every year. Life Vine was really helpful to my mum.”
My brows crease with her confession, and I instantly want to know more. What happened to her mum that had her seeking aid through Life Vine? Could it have been something Isabelle was affected by, too? If someone fucking hurt her, I need to know who.
“Life Vine does amazing work. Gage is a big supporter, too.”
“Really?” Isabelle asks me, while I glare at my sister.
“They help people who need it.” I practically snap the words out. Now is not the time to talk about August. It’s never the right time to talk about him.
“My mum was in an abusive relationship. Life Vine had resources that helped her get back on her feet, starting over as a single parent, finding her confidence as a person again,” she says, and all I can do is blink in shock.
Isabelle shrugs with a smile. “They helped her find hope, and then she found Joe, the guy I’m actually happy to call Dad.
I’ll get you a fairy floss, Beth.” Isabelle pulls her charged gaze away from me as she steps back to the gazebo.
A woman with golden hair, much like her own, stands beside her.
They have a similar angelic appeal to them.
This must be one of her sisters. I wonder how many she has.
I wonder a lot of things about her. I should probably stop.
But after that last confession, I only crave to know more.
She knows of darkness, of pain. How does she stand there with such fierce bravery every day?
Such confidence that light is waiting behind every corner. Or does she make her own?
“You think you could rein in the grump with Isabelle? She hasn’t learnt how to handle you yet,” Beth hisses.
“Maybe I was just surprised to see her here. Unlike you.”
“Yeah, well, Caleb’s not the only one with questionable behaviour around a woman lately.” Beth looks up at me with a calculated gleam in her eyes.
“We just fell asleep on the plane. I don’t know how we ended up that close, but it’s not how we started.”
“And the carrying of her bags all weekend, that possessive move when you wouldn’t let Jackson shake her hand—what the fuck was that, by the way?
—and don’t think I didn’t notice you two flirting when we went out drinking that second night.
I was pretty drunk, but only towards the end when all those shots caught up with me. God, that whiskey was brutal.”
My body clams up with every piece of evidence Beth drops that proves I have been acting differently around Isabelle.
Maybe Caleb caught something contagious.
I never lose my head around women—that stupid sap infected me.
Unlike him, however, I know not to cross lines.
And with Isabelle working so closely with Smoke and Barrel, the first thing that feels like it’s connecting me to August in a way that’s healing, that is a line I won’t blur.
I haven’t felt complete since the day I lost my best friend. At first, I felt like a hollow shell. Over the years, I started to feel more like the patchwork of Isabelle’s skirt—different pieces stitched together to resemble something whole, but the scars were still evident.
What I know about Isabelle is that she is too good to be sharing her light with the darkness of my guilt.
She needs someone to help her shine brighter.
Even if I only wanted her for one night, just to get the curiosity out of my system, I don’t think she could handle that.
I would need her in a way that swallows me whole.
A desperate ravishing. Nothing sweet and soft like she’s probably used to.
Although with every new piece of her I get, she shatters my assumptions.
Beautifully unexpected. That’s the way she described life.
Maybe I’m starting to understand what she meant.
Fuck. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Nella Notte. Maybe I just need to expel some of this built-up tension.
“Here you go, Beth. I made you one with all the colours.” Isabelle comes over with a giant stick covered in pink, blue, and yellow sugared fluff. My mouth goes dry as her tongue peeks out, running over the pad of her thumb, perhaps catching some leftover sugar.
“Thanks, girl. We’re going to keep walking around, but I’ll text you during the week,” Beth says with a kiss to Isabelle’s cheek.
“Sure thing.” Isabelle smiles as Beth leads me away, but I keep looking at Isabelle until the last second.
“Bye, Gage,” she says, and there’s no way fucking her out of my system is going to work. Even when I close my eyes, I see her. I wouldn’t insult her, or any other woman, by picturing Isabelle if I didn’t have the real thing.
Looks like I’ll be going on some very long runs and taking some very cold showers.