Della’s eyes welled with tears, spilling over and hurting my heart. Clutching her hand, I sat heavily on the mattress as she sniffed and nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll be there.” Shaking her head at whatever Cassie had mentioned, she said firmly with a little wobble of tears, “No, not at all. We’re family. We want to be there.”
Another few seconds ticked past before Della sniffed again and straightened her back. “Okay, let me talk to Ren. I don’t know where we are exactly or how long it will take to get back to you. Just…let me talk to him, and I’ll let you know, okay?” Her eyes shot to mine, then more tears fell onto our joined fingers. “Okay, sure. Here he is.”
With a shaking hand, Della passed me the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
I wanted to ask what had happened, but I had no time as I took the heavy cell and held it to my ear. “Cassie?”
Instantly, her cries became sobs, and the part of me that cared deeply for her sprang into an all-out blaze. “What is it? You okay? What can I do to help?”
I winced, glancing at Della, afraid she’d be jealous or hurt that I’d leap to Cassie’s aid if she needed me. It wasn’t romantic entanglement; it was purely friendship, and the knowledge that I owed her family not just my life, but Della’s, too.
Only, Della just looked at me with adoration and trust, nodding for me to continue.
Cassie swallowed back her sobs, long enough to splutter, “Please come home, Ren. Please.”
Before I could assure her that we would do whatever she needed—regardless if I knew why, she told me.
And broke my damn heart.
“It’s Mom. She died this morning.”
And nothing else mattered.
Not how we’d get there or how long it would take. Standing, I looked for the backpacks, but Della was already ahead of me, flinging open the single wardrobe and shoving our clothes into each bag.
“We’re coming, Cassie. We’re coming home.”
CHAPTER FORTY
REN
* * * * * *
2020
IT TOOK US six days to cross the miles we’d travelled since leaving the Wilsons.
Between paying for bus tickets and hitchhiking, we managed to trade the still sunny skies of whatever small town we’d been picking fruit in for the cooler clouds of the Wilson’s territory.
Della and I barely slept, and when we did, it was in a hastily erected tent with a muesli bar for dinner or something just as quick and easy.
Cassie had called twice since we hit the road. First, checking in to see where we were, and second to let us know the funeral had been arranged and we better hurry if we wanted to attend.
We travelled as fast as we could, even though I still felt bad about ditching Lo and her fruit-picking job after she’d helped us out. I’d broken my honour, and I hated that I’d do it all over again because Patricia Wilson had died.
Gone.
She was the only mother I knew.
The woman who’d shown me that not all mothers wanted to sell their children.
I couldn’t think of her as…dead. It just didn’t compute. It hurt too much.
“She’s been keeping things from me,” Della murmured, her head on my shoulder as the overnight bus trundled us the final distance.
“Hmm?” I opened my eyes. I hadn’t been sleeping, but my brain was fuzzy enough not to follow. “Say again?”
“Cassie. I didn’t want to pry as I’ve been keeping things from her, too. But…now I wonder if she was hiding the fact that Patricia was sick along with all the other stuff.”
“What stuff?”
She shrugged, jostling me a little in the small, squished together bus seats. “I think she and Chip have had a rocky time. Some messages they’re back together, others they’re apart again.” She sighed, deflating beside me. “I haven’t been a good friend to her.”
Moving my arm, I looped it over her, forcing her to rearrange before resting her head on me for a pillow. “The fact that you stayed in touch shows you’re a better friend than me.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’ve thought about her over the years.”
I chuckled under my breath, halting a cough. “I think I have some idea.”
“Believe me. You don’t.”
“Believe me. I do.” My hands curled, reliving the suffocating rage and stomach-clenching helplessness when Della ran to David. “You’re forgetting I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Della. I just kept it hidden. Just because I didn’t let on, doesn’t mean I wasn’t in pain when I saw you with another boy.”
“I put you through that just a couple of times.” Her voice turned sharp. “Whereas I lived a constant nightmare with you and Cassie.”
I flinched.
I’d wondered when this subject would come up.
For years, I’d felt the strain between Della and me back at Cherry River. At the time, I’d been too blind and stupid to understand that the discord between me and my tiny best friend was Della’s heart breaking. When she was a little girl, it was broken because she thought she’d lost me by having to share me. And as a young woman, it was broken because she fell for me long before she should feel such things.