After the re-opening of the garden, our families went back to Mum’s house for a celebratory dinner and drinks. It was such a relief to have successfully completed our project before the deadline. And to see the excited and impressed faces of everyone who visited during the day, made it all worth the effort.
“Jeanette! This potato salad … my word.”
Mum smiled appreciatively at Helen. “It’s good, huh? You can thank Danielle’s roommate, Chris, for that. It’s his recipe.”
“Chris?” Laura piped in. “The hunky guy with guns bigger than the US army? I was meaning to ask about him. He looked familiar.”
I avoided Elliot’s heated stare, which was practically melting the leftover sunscreen from my face, and finished my mouthful before answering her. “Yeah, he plays for the Essendon Football Club.”
“Reeeeeally? I figured he was an athlete … or model. Mm mm.”
Laura’s husband, John, raised his eyebrow, a playful grin creeping in at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t say anything, though, instead blowing on a sausage and handing it to their one-year-old son.
Their son tossed it back.
“Samuel Coben, no! That’s naughty,” John scolded, picking up the sausage from his lap.
He placed it on a plate but it was immediately snatched up by Elliot and offered to Samuel again, the cheeky toddler taking it and shoving it into his mouth.
“Seriously?” John asked, glaring at Elliot.
Elliot shrugged but then held up his hand for a high-five from Samuel. “Give Uncle Lots some skin, buddy.” Uncle Lots?
I couldn’t help but smile. It was so damn cute, which was weird considering I’d never given much thought to having kids of my own. It wasn’t that I was opposed to having them. I just wasn’t inclined to have them either. They were happy, grumpy, indecisive gluttons — massive mindfucks. I mean, why would you want a sausage after it’s been in someone’s lap?
“So, Danielle, are you and Chris a thing?” Laura asked nonchalantly while grabbing the salad dressing.
“LAURA!” Helen forcefully placed down her glass, a look of warning on her face.
“What? It’s a perfectly legitimate question.”
Her shit-eating grin and sideways smirks at Elliot indicated she was up to something, which wasn’t out of the unusual for Laura. Stirring the pot was her forte, something she’d resorted to a lot when we were kids. Unfortunately, Elliot had always taken the bait.
“Define ‘thing’?” I asked, metaphorically swimming around her hook.
“Is he your new fiancé?”
This time, Elliot was the one to slam something down, the abrupt, loud, clang setting a Mexican wave of startled jerks around the table … except for Samuel, who slammed his plastic spoon down animatedly, mimicking his uncle. No one reacted, so he did it again, and again, which made me laugh.
A sea of eyes were suddenly cast my way, wide with anticipation, except for Elliot’s, whose were boring into his sister’s head and hers into his. My God, it was reminiscent of Parker Pizza Friday Nights. The two of them would fight, every time, over stupid crap. Elliot hated it, but I’d always found it amusing, partly because family scuffles weren’t something I ever got to experience, unless they involved my mother, and when they did, she’d always be the victor.
It sucked.
Sitting here in my childhood home, with my mum and my childhood adopted family, I felt happy and ‘mostly’ amused by Laura’s antics. “Is Chris my new fiancé? Nooooo.” I continued to eat, unperturbed by her provocation. “He’s too messy for me. Plus, he’s not a fan of Dudley.”
“Who’s Dudley?”
I forked potato salad into my mouth. “The love of my life.”
Elliot smirked, his tension easing, and forked some salad into his mouth, too.
“You like him, don’t ya, Lots?”
“Oh, I love Pug— I mean Dudley. He makes himself right at home.”
I burst into laughter.
“Who is Dudley?” Laura asked again.
“My dog.” I carried on eating, waiting for her to strike again. She obviously had a point to make, and something told me she hadn’t made it yet.
“So, you and Chris have never been an item?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Laura, what’s your point?” Elliot snapped. “If you’ve got one, make it.”
She held her hands up in defence. “What? I just thought they looked good together today, that’s all.”
“Laura, that’s enough,” Helen added.
“Riiiiiiiight. Anyone want dessert?” Mum asked as she stood up, smiling and trying to keep the peace. “I’ve got Pavlova and some ice cream for the little guy.”
“Sheesh. Why are you all so uptight? It’s not as if Danielle and Elliot are in love with each other and too stubborn to admit it, right?” She smiled satisfactorily at us both. “Right?”
Annnnnnnd there it is.
I narrowed my eyes at her then shrugged it off, standing from the table. “Right.” Picking up my plate, I picked up Elliot’s as well. “Elliot knows I love him. Always have. Always will. What he does with that piece of information is entirely up to him.”
I fired her the same satisfactory grin, bigger, in fact, and left the room to help Mum.
“She’s a bit of a bulldog,” Mum said under her breath as she prepared the Pavlova.
“Who? Laura?” I dipped my finger in the whipped cream and licked it.
Mum swiped at me. “Yes.”
“Na, she just has a particular way of getting her point across.”
“Particular way?” she scoffed. “I can see that.” She kept smearing cream on top of the Pavlova. “She was right, though.”
“I know.”
Placing her spatula down, she turned to me. “So why can’t you both figure it out?”
“We can.”
“You can or you will?”
I smiled. “Both.”
“When?”
“When the time is right.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m just gonna go outside for a little bit, okay?”
She hovered her hand over my forehead, a concerned look in her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. It’s been a big day. I just want some cool air.”
“Okay. Do me a favour and bring in some lemons?”
Nodding, I opened the back door and entered the cool night air, letting it tame the heated embarrassment I’d kept at bay during Laura’s attack. I’d known she’d had an objective; I just hadn’t realised it was that. Yeah, she was right; we were stubborn, and I loved him and he loved me. But sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes, there were niches we held onto or hid behind, because they kept us safe from the fear of letting go.
Sometimes, that fear took precedence.
Over the past week, I’d realised I no longer wanted my fear of losing the ones I loved to rule my heart. I didn’t want it shackling me from the greatest happiness I may ever experience. That notion, alone, was more terrifying than taking a leap out of my safety zone.
Sitting down at the base of our lemon tree, I rotated one of the yellow fruits in my hand just as the back door opened and Elliot stepped out to join me, his hands behind his back, his posture sheepish.
“You all right?” he asked, squatting down in front of me.
“Yeah, of course.” I tossed the lemon and caught it. “Your sister is harmless. She means well in a not so well kinda way.”
“Tell me about it. Still, I want to apologise for her taking aim like that.”
“You don’t need to apologise, Lots. She was right.”
He nodded and moved to sit on his arse, pulling out from behind his back a box of Cheezels.
I laughed and snatched them from him. “First dibs!”
“Cheat.”
“That’s not cheating. You snooze you lose.”
“Technically, you snooze you sleep, and when you sleep, your body rejuvenates. That’s far from losing.”
Shaking my head, I opened the box and split the foil bag, the waft of cheese hitting my nose. “Mm … yum. They smell so good. Why do they always smell so good?”
“Artificial flavourings.”
My head tilted and my eyebrow rose.
“What? Truth.” He reached into the box and stole the first one while his glittering eyes distracted me.
I whacked his arm. “Hey! I had first dibs.”
“At my heart, yes. At this Cheezel, no.”
Heat flushed my face, my heart beating a song and dance at his words. I swallowed and looked down at the lemon, not knowing what to say.
“Do you want it?” he asked, waving it in front of me.
I tried to snatch it but he was too quick. “You’re so mean.”
“I’ll tell ya what. You can have it, but you have to do one thing.” My eyes met his, and he leaned in closer. “Marry me.”
“What?”
Elliot took my hand in his, his soft fingers gently caressing mine. “Marry me. Say yes just like you did twenty-two years ago.”
Tears pricked my eyes, the sense to hold onto my niche strong. “I don’t know, Lots. I've learned the hard way that some people just aren’t worth the fight, no matter how tempting their bullshit promises may seem.”
He lifted my chin, his eyes magnetising mine. “I’m worth it. You’re worth it. And that’s no bullshit promise.”
My God he was right. We were more than worth it.
Gasping, I sniffed and blinked back my tears. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked, his grip on my hand tightening.
I nodded. “YES! Yes, I’ll marry you. Now give me the Cheezel.”
His shaky fingers slid the cheese ring onto my finger before he pulled me onto his lap and dipped me for a kiss, his lips crashing down on mine, butterflies — not real ones — once again exploding within me. In that moment, I let go of my niche, let it slip away with the breeze, bidding old fear farewell and welcoming new fear. Fear of marriage, living together, commitment … children. Children? Oh shit! And what about Dudley?
The sound of cheering and a window being pounded on, snapped me from my new fear. I looked in the direction of the house, finding our families standing at the kitchen window, Mum and Helen crying and embracing, Laura pointing to herself and nodding, and Samuel’s little hands constantly slapping the glass.
“Wait!” I said, sitting back. “What about Dudley?”
“What about Pugly?”
“Dudley!”
“Yeah.”
“You said Pugly.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Danielle! What about him?”
“We’re a package deal.”
He nodded, sadly, squinting as he deliberated the dilemma. “Riiiiight. This could be a problem.”
A smile stretched across both our faces.
I whacked him.
He kissed me.
I whacked him again, this time, my whack, losing any whack it possessed.
“Doggy training,” he mumbled against my mouth.
I smiled and melded to him. “Fine. Deal. Now, let’s get married.”