An innocent piece of candy had changed my life seventeen years ago, and I was hoping it would have the power to help her through the anniversary.
Seeing Alex was struggling now, I huffed, “If you’re going to start crying, maybe go inside and see if Naomi’s around? I don’t do well with that shit,” and got out of the cruiser, leaving Alex still staring at my seat.
Finally shaking it off, Alex got out and called, “I wasn’t going to cry, asshole. All I was doing was thinking how beautiful and perfect that was.”
“Thanks. The guy says he’s finished framing it, so I need to go and collect it.”
It turned out perfectly, but the most challenging part was ahead of me… and I was going to need Jacinda and Heidi’s help.
ONE
Naomi
Three weeks later…
Sometimes we just needed to be on our own—no talking, no movement, no thinking… just alone.
Today was one of those days, and for the hundredth time since I’d moved here, I counted my blessings for the people in my life now.
Gone were the parents who didn’t give a shit about me and Callum, who never paid the electricity bill or bought us food. Who didn’t care if we were sick or needed the bathroom. They’d kept us locked in a small closet when it suited them, starved us, and then had left us alone—which hadn’t been a bad thing. The indifference and disappearing were always better than when they were actually there.
If it hadn’t been for my brother, I probably wouldn’t be here right now, and that’s not an understatement.
For years, I’d suffered through night after night of darkness and cramped space, and it’d triggered severe claustrophobia to the point I couldn’t sleep at night. For a long while, I’d even broken into a sweat when I had to go into the pantry. Then I’d developed coping mechanisms because I had a baby to look after and couldn’t afford to have hang-ups like that.
When we’d moved into this house, I’d asked my landlord if I could remove the door from the pantry in the kitchen, on the proviso, I’d put it back when we moved out. He’d agreed and told me not to worry about it. Slowly but surely, I’d learned to cope, and the dark and enclosed space issues lessened with time. Other people called it healing, I called it growth and freedom.
I hadn’t been able to afford much when I’d moved here with Shanti. Hell, I’d had been careful with every penny, including buying the gas to get us here, so that I could afford a deposit on a place for us. Any spare change I had went toward making sure Shanti had food, something to drink, diapers, and anything else she needed.
It was my best friend, Heidi, who’d found me the place we lived in now. I had no idea when I’d moved in here that the landlord was Jack Townsend, the now mayor’s son. He’d taken one look at me and my niece, who’d been fast asleep in my arms, and had given me the key and told me if I even tried to pay him, he’d lose his mind.
It’d blown me away. I didn’t know the man, but he’d heard from his daughters-in-law about Shanti and me and our circumstances, and he wanted us to be safe.
The first night, I’d bundled up all of the blankets and pillows from the back of the car to make a makeshift bed for my niece to sleep on while I’d slept on the bare floor. It might sound uncomfortable, but the place had been immaculate, and after what I’d grown up with, it was one of the best night’s sleep I’d ever had in my life. Sure, I’d moved away from my parents’ trailer as soon as I could with Callum’s help and had scored a sweet ride to college to study architecture. I’d had a dorm and then an apartment with nice beds, but after so many years of torture in the trailer, you never forgot what true discomfort was.
The floor was nothing in comparison.
Shanti had woken up early, excited to see Piersville and explore our new house. I was still nervous about everything and off-balance that the landlord wouldn’t accept my money, so I was a little more reserved about adventuring. Still, my only goal was to give her the best—happiness, security, love, and good health—so I’d gone along with it for her.
We’d explored, we’d spent time with Heidi and her daughter Nemi, we’d been introduced to people, and Heidi’s sister, Sayla, had dragged us into her salon and done our hair… I’d never in my life experienced anything like it.
And then we’d come home to find brand new furniture in the house, and people we didn’t know had dropped off boxes and bags of stuff we’d needed. Food, bedding, diapers for Shanti, kids’ stuff, a kettle, a toaster, a complete dining set, cutlery, cushions, a television, toys, gift cards. You name it, we were given it.