Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3) (35 page)

BOOK: Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3)
10.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she whispered.

I’d put a lot of thought into it over the past few hours. I felt sad that I’d missed so much, but knew I had no one to blame but myself. I felt frustrated that Ryan hadn’t told me weeks ago, but understood why he’d kept quiet. The only person I had to be angry with was me – and I was too freaking smitten with my daughter to be angry.

“I never gave you a reason to tell me.” She deserved to know I wasn’t mad at her. “I was a jerk. I’m not upset.”

“No?” She sounded surprised.

“No, Charli,” I confirmed, smiling at her. “I’m counting my lucky stars right now. You’ve given me everything.”

“What happens now?”

I put my hand on top of hers, leaned across and kissed her. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving you both everything.”

June 29

Charli

In the mayhem of that day, there was one thing I knew for certain. My baby was the prettiest baby in the history of all babies. Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t sleep for looking at her.

Adam spent time getting to know her. I already knew her. I’d felt her every move for months. She even looked like I imagined she would – a perfect mix of the two of us, with her father’s dark blue eyes.

I held her until I couldn’t. I could feel my eyes closing and my arms slipping. Adam noticed and took the baby from me, lowering her into the crib by the bed.

“I hate that crib,” I mumbled. “It looks like a plastic bucket.”

“It’s not that bad,” he replied, peering at the baby. “She seems to like it.”

“Do you think they’ll let us go home now?” I asked, mid-yawn.

Adam gently pushed the crib aside. “No. They’re not going to let you go anywhere until you get some sleep.” He made a half-hearted attempt at fluffing my pillow, and fussed with the blankets.

“Are you tucking me up, Adam?” I teased.

He grinned at me. “Be quiet and go to sleep.” He sat beside me and brought my hand to his lips.

“I don’t think I can,” I told him.

“Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“No. But I could tell you one.”

His smile started slipping. “You are so beautiful. I’ve missed your stories so much.”

I moved my hand to the side of his face, settling my thumb in the deep dimple before it disappeared. “I’ve missed the hole in your cheek.”

He laughed, making me realise I’d missed that too. “Just sleep,” he whispered.

The ease of being with him was astonishing. There was no awkwardness or unfamiliarity. We could be apart for months at a time and just click back into place. The reason why was a simple one. I loved him, and I’d never forgotten that he loved me with all he had, even when it wasn’t enough.

“Don’t you want to hear my story?” I mumbled.

“Yes; then rest, okay?”

I nodded weakly. “It’s about a fairy called Alouette.”

“Why are so many of your fairies French?” he asked, reaching across to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“They’re not
my
fairies. We belong to them, not the other way around.”

“My mistake.” He smiled. “What’s so special about Alouette?” He said her name perfectly, putting his usual sexy spin on the pronunciation.

“She’s not actually French. She hangs out in the Aleutian Islands.”

“Alaska?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Well, she’s like a rock star in the fairy realm – highly revered. She has one of the most important jobs of all, and she does it all by herself.”

“No help from the grizzly bears, then?”

“None. It’s her job to deliver the souls of babies to their fathers, just before they’re born.” I could feel my eyes closing. “The father carries it with him for safekeeping, then hands it over to the child when it’s born.”

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

“Well, how do you know when Alouette delivers the soul?”

“She gives you a sign.” I wondered if he’d received a sign. I still had no idea why he’d chosen that particular morning to show up at my door. My money was on magic, but I expected a more logical explanation from Adam. I would’ve asked him about it but sleep took over, putting an end to the very best few hours of my existence.

June 29

Adam

Charli managed to get a few hours’ sleep before Alex and Gabrielle arrived. They’d been held back by the horrible weather, and Gabrielle hadn’t handled the delay well. She was so keyed up that Alex had to keep a grip on her hand to settle her. I was relieved to see her so excited, but there was an air of awkwardness. I felt like I’d stolen something from her.

At first I could barely look at her. She picked up on it immediately, inciting a very short but direct conversation in French. Neither Alex nor Charli demanded a translation. They were totally absorbed in the little person in Alex’s arms.

“All babies are blessings, Adam,” Gabi whispered. “Even ones that are not mine.”

I nodded stiffly. “I’m glad you’re here, Gabrielle.”

She pulled me into a brief, tight hug. “There is no place I would rather be.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’ve been given a wonderful gift, Adam,” she added. “If you mess this up, I shall hunt you down and kill you myself.”

Gabi was done with me after that. In fact, Gabi was done in general. She only had eyes for the little baby she’d been waiting months to meet. Alex seemed reluctant to give her up, but she gave him no choice, all but wrestling her from his arms. He gave in and turned his attention to Charlotte, who didn’t seem to have benefited at all from the two hours of sleep she’d just had.

“I have something for the baby,” he told her, “but Gabs made me leave it in the car.”

“Ridiculous,” mumbled Gabrielle, unimpressed. “A ridiculous gift.”

I would have loved to know what it was but was too afraid to ask.

He turned to me. “I have something for you too, Adam.”

“Is it going to hurt?” I asked, only half jokingly.

Charli burst into a quick fit of giggles.

“Ignore him, Adam,” said Gabrielle, still fixed on the baby. “He’s not going to do you any harm. He’s a mild-mannered grandfather now.”

“Yes, he is,” agreed Charli, grinning at her father. “So what would you like her to call you? Gramps?”

“More importantly,” Alex began, pulling a face, “what are we going to call her? What’s her name?”

Charli turned to me. I was actually relieved by the clueless look on her face. It meant I wasn’t going to have to spend days talking her out of some weird bohemian name that she had her heart set on.

“We don’t have a name,” she replied.

“Oh, you must think of something quickly,” ordered Gabrielle. “How about a family name?”

“No kid of mine is being named after spider,” scoffed Charli, making Alex chuckle.

“How about a Décarie family name?” Gabi suggested. “Something French.” She gazed down at the baby in her arms. “We have a great aunt called Hortense.”

I shuddered. We’d been terrified of grand-tante Hortense as children. She had a five o’clock shadow and smelled of camphor balls. “That’s a terrible name,” I told her.

Charli was more diplomatic. “It’s not for us.”

Alex stood next to Gabrielle. “Well, you’ve got to call her something,” he insisted, lightly touching the baby’s head. “She’s too pretty not to have a name.”

“We’ll work on it,” Charli promised.

Working on it happened as soon as the conversation turned to the vicious weather.

“Power lines and trees are down all over the place,” explained Gabrielle.

“And we have no driveway,” added Alex. “There’s a big crater where the water washed the track away. I’m going to have to bring in a truckload of gravel just to bridge it.”

Charli whipped her head in my direction, grinning. “Adam, what do you think?”

I’d taken a crash course in La La that day. Perhaps that explained why I understood exactly what she was asking me. I was the only one who did, though.

“Think about what?” demanded Gabrielle.

“Alex just came up with the perfect name for her,” I said, returning Charli’s smile.

Alex looked confused, even after taking a few seconds to think it through. “Gravel?” he asked. “I prefer Hortense.”

“Bridget,” corrected Charli, meeting my smile. “We’re going to call her Bridget.”

Gabrielle carefully transferred the baby to Alex, too excited to hold her any longer. “Fabulous! I think it is a beautiful French name,” she crowed.

I studied Alex as he walked to the window, wondering if my hold on her would ever look that relaxed. He didn’t hold the baby cautiously like the rest of us. He had an expert technique that could only have come with practice.

“Welcome, Bridget,” he whispered to the bundle in his arms. “You’re going to love it here, I promise.”

* * *

It took a long time for Alex to convince Gabrielle that it was time to leave. If she could’ve hidden the baby in her bag and taken her home, I’m sure she would have.

I was looking forward to spending some quiet time with Charli, but moments after Gabi and Alex left, a crotchety nurse stormed the room and ordered me out. “Go home,” she demanded. “You need rest too.”

She was downright scary for someone barely five feet tall. She was actually closer to four feet – the thick rubber soles on her shoes added height and kicking power. Protesting got me nowhere. The woman was a tyrant. Ten minutes and two quick kisses from my little family later, I was out the door.

The long drive back to the cottage was made impossibly longer by the mayhem left in the wake of the storm. Branches were scattered all along the highway from Hobart to the Cove, which meant it was ridiculously slow going.

It made me nervous to see what sort of shape the cottage was going to be in. I pulled into the driveway and breathed a sigh of relief at the realisation that we still had a roof.

It had been the longest day of my life. As soon as I was inside, I flopped on the sofa, checked the time on my watch and realised I’d been functioning for nearly two days without sleep. Besides being exhausted, I was starving – but not starving enough to eat any of the fifteen boxes of cereal in the pantry. My wife had a serious addiction to the stuff. Bridget should’ve been born looking like a cornflake.

Too hungry to sleep, I grabbed my keys and headed back into the night in search of a decent meal.

* * *

Pipers Cove was hardly the food capital of the world. The only hope I had of getting something to eat was at the pub. But as soon as I walked in the door, I realised I’d picked the wrong night to be hungry.

“Adam!” bellowed a huge voice I hadn’t missed one bit. Jasmine Tate rushed toward me, dressed in a blue shiny dress and a veil.

I’d stumbled into the bachelorette party from hell.

I stopped dead in my tracks as she threw her arms around me. “Hello Jasmine,” I muttered, wrenching her hands free.

“It’s so good to have you back!” she squealed. “So much has happened since you’ve been gone.”

“You don’t say.”

She threw her head back and cackled like a witch. “I do say. Sit with us and I’ll tell you everything.”

Before I had a chance to protest, she hooked her arm through mine and dragged me to a table in the corner.

“You remember Lily, of course.” She pointed at her sister.

“Is she alright?” I dropped my head trying to catch Lily’s eyes, which seemed to have rolled to the back of her head.

“She’s breathing,” Jasmine confirmed, holding her hand under her nose to check. “And Wade,” she continued, moving behind him. “My fiancée.”

Wade jumped out of his chair. I should’ve predicted his next move. He hugged me, the same way he had the first time I met him.

“It’s good to see you again.” He whispered it in my ear. He actually whispered it in my ear.

Somehow I broke free. “Thank you,” I muttered. “You too.”

“Sit,” ordered Jasmine, pointing at the chair next to her paralytic sister.

“No, it’s fine,” I replied. “I’m just here for dinner then I’m heading home.”

“Where’s Charli?”

News in this town normally spread like wildfire, but they seemed oblivious. It was a surreal moment. After being kept in the dark for months, I was actually the first to announce Bridget’s birth.

“In the hospital. Charlotte had a little girl this afternoon.”

I wish I’d taken a step back before speaking. Jasmine’s shrill squeal echoed through my ear. Wade lurched forward and I ordered him not to hug me. I must’ve looked serious because the hulk stopped and thumped me on the back instead. “Great news,” he beamed. “I’ll bet she’s small.”

“Babies usually are, Wade,” I replied.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said thumping my back again. “She’ll grow. You can never judge a book by its character.”

I swear, the man’s head would’ve whistled in a crosswind. Unable to deal with him any longer, I decided to make a run for it and go hungry.

Other books

Hold Me by Betsy Horvath
The Power of Un by Nancy Etchemendy
The Why of Things: A Novel by Elizabeth Hartley Winthrop
Pure Temptation by Eve Carter
Pet Friendly by Sue Pethick
Ferney by James Long
No Man's Dog by Jon A. Jackson
Someone to Love by Riley Rhea