A LIFE MADE OF LAVA Page 7

“I don’t-”

  “You literally cringed when you caught sight of her head, Ian! She’s bald, get over it!” I know I’m not being fair, but I can’t help myself.

  “Get over it?” he asks, incredulously. “Are you being fucking serious? Evie is dying, Nick. That’s not okay and it’s certainly not something I can ignore. I can’t believe you’d even ask me to.”

  “I’m not…” I clasp my hands together and lean forward in my seat. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Really? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not in the least bit fazed by all of this. You’re acting as if nothing has happened! How can you be so cold?”

  I clench my fists to keep from reacting. A burst of Evie’s laughter drifts through the door and I let it wash over me, an anchor of calm. “Ian,” I begin slowly, “you’ve been my best mate since college. You were the best man at our wedding. You’re as close to Evie as you are to me, and I respect that. But this is my business, mine and Evie’s. I’m asking you to respect that, please.”

  Ian deflates. When he finally speaks, his voice breaks. “I just can’t bear to see her like this.”

  “I know. I know how hard it is. But she’s still Evie.”

  As if on cue, Evie stumbles outside. “Nick.” She manages only my name before she claps her hand to her mouth, but I’m already off the sofa, scooping her up and rushing for the bathroom as she throws up all over both of us.

  14

  Julia

  I hear Nick calling my name from the front door and I leap off the sofa. He’s carrying a pale and softly giggling Evie and, for a second, I wonder why he sounds so panicked. Then the stench of vomit hits me. Under the light in the hall, Evie is so pale the mascara smudged below her eyes looks like stage make-up.

  “What happened?” I gasp, rushing forward to help.

  “She’s fine, she just had a little too much to drink. I need you to open our bed. Please,” he adds.

  I fly up the stairs before him, but he stays right behind me, Evie’s weight not hindering his progress in the slightest. I yank open Evie’s side of the duvet and hurl her scatter cushions across to Nick’s side. He’s not even out of breath as he lays her down gently, turning her onto her side. “Can you fetch a bucket?” he asks, setting about removing her wig.

  “Of course.” I fly downstairs, my heart hammering in my chest. Thank God I rinsed the bucket after mopping Casey’s spilt juice off the floor.

  Nick sets the bucket down gently on the carpet beside Evie. She’s snoring softly as he tucks her in.

  “Can I get you anything?” I ask, not sure exactly what to do.

  Nick drags his eyes away from Evie to look at me. I’ve never been this close to him before, but now I see there are tiny flecks of hazel in the brown of his eyes. He seems to be deliberating about something. I’m about to leave when he nods.

  “Coffee,” he says. “I’d love a cup of coffee.”

  My hand shakes as I stir the sugar into the mug of black coffee. It’s past midnight, so coffee probably isn’t the best thing for either of us right now, but I don’t think I could fall asleep now if I tried. The house is quiet as I carry the mugs through to the living-room. Nick is slouched on the sofa, his head in his hands.

  “There you go.” I set the mug on the table before him.

  His hands fall away to reveal a stranger sitting before me. Is he… crying? Gone is the perfectly controlled man I’ve seen until now and, in his place, sits a man who is broken – shattered.

  “Thank you,” he mumbles, reaching blindly for the coffee. His hands tremble as he lifts the mug to his lips, spilling coffee over his tan pants, but he doesn’t seem to notice. If he was one of the children, I’d wipe it away.

  I should go. Every instinct is screaming at me to leave, to go upstairs to my room and leave him alone, but my legs have turned to lead, resolutely refusing to budge.

  “Are you all right, Mr Danvers?”

  He doesn’t answer. Again, he fixes me with that unnerving gaze. “Call me Nick.”

  “Nick.” I nod. “Well, um… I guess I’ll go and check on the children and then get ready for bed.” I’ve barely swivelled when he speaks.

  “Evie asked me to be nicer to you.”

  I keep my back to him, not sure how to respond to that.

  “She says she wouldn’t be able to cope without you.”

  “I think we both know that’s not true,” I say, “but I’m happy to help ease her workload.”

  “The kids can be exhausting,” he admits, and then, after a moment’s deliberation, he waves me onto the empty sofa beside him. “Please, sit.”

  Reluctantly, I do.

  “How were they tonight?” Nick asks. “The kids?”

  I smile without meaning to. “They were so good. I was worried they might not be comfortable because they haven’t known me very long but they were angels. Jesse’s learning a new song and he actually let Dylan sing along for a change. Casey danced the whole way through. They were in bed by nine, although I suspect Jesse may have read a little longer.” I realise I’m rambling so I stop.

  Nick nods and then his face crumples. It’s like watching a stone sculpture crumble into clay. “He’s not dealing with any of this.”

  “Do you mind if I ask what you’ve told them?”

  “That their mom’s not well. That she needs to rest – the usual bullshit. How do you tell them what’s really going on?” He is pleading, searching for answers, but not from me.

  “You’re doing fine,” I say, “the best you can. There’s no right or wrong way to deal with this.” I pause, summoning up my courage. “I don’t know much about Evie’s diagnosis… is… is there a chance she could recover?” He doesn’t reply for the longest time and I wish I could take the question back. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  “Evie’s doctors say her cancer is terminal,” he says, “but there have been cases of people with her condition making a full recovery. Case studies…”

  He’s still talking but I zone out. I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s praying for a miracle. Evie will die. As the realisation dawns, I feel a surge of anger toward her. This is too much. How can I continue working here, developing a connection with this family when she’s not going to be here? I don’t want to witness this, I don’t want any part of it. But then, if I won’t help her, who will? I know I can make her life easier. I know I can work harder. I might not be able to help Evie get better, but I can help her children. I can be there for them during the most difficult time of their lives, because, looking at him now, there is no doubt in my mind that when it happens, Nick Danvers is going to fall apart.

  He’s finally stopped talking, his short record of successful case studies run dry.

  “How did Evie enjoy her evening?” I ask, deliberately changing the subject.

  “She had a blast. We’ve been friends with Ian and Kat since college so it’s always a hoot when we get together, but we do tend to behave like irresponsible teenagers. I should’ve kept a closer eye on how much Evie had to drink.”

  “Would you have stopped her?” I challenge, daring him to admit it.

  A ghost of a smile lifts the corners of his lips. “No.”

  I give him a small smile. “I wouldn’t have had the guts to either.”

  15

  Evie

  “Aaaah.” I roll over and clutch my head. A pin-prick of light finds its way between my eyelids and I wince, scrunching them more tightly together. I check the bed by feel to discover that Nick isn’t beside me. I must doze off again because when I finally summon the courage to open my eyes my head is pounding less like a bass drum and doing more of a tentative conga. A quick peek at my bedside table confirms that my husband is still that guy who leaves pain pills and a glass of water next to my bed after a heavy night out. My mouth feels like cardboard. I stifle another groan in my pillow. I didn’t even drink that much. Curse you, cancer, you fun-sucker! I swallow the pills, slug down the entire glass of water an
d wait the mandatory ten minutes before I hobble to the bathroom.

  Twenty minutes later I’m clean, dressed and feeling marginally more human. Downstairs I find the house spotless but with no signs of life. No Nick, no kids. He must have taken them out to let me sleep in. I pad through to the kitchen. No Julia, either. She must be up in her room. I hope Nick didn’t say anything this morning to upset her. He wouldn’t, my conscience scolds. He promised to make more of an effort and Nick doesn’t make promises lightly.

  I’m on my second cup of coffee when the front door opens and I hear the jumble of voices. My ears perk up when Julia’s mingles in with the rest. Curious, I tiptoe toward the hall and peek around the corner. My heart gives a violent lurch in my chest.

  They must have gone for a walk together, because Nick and Julia are trailing children, looking like the poster family for an insurance commercial. Nick is stamping his boots on the welcome mat and he’s smiling – genuinely smiling – at something Julia’s just said. As I watch, he waves her inside first. His eyes dip, only for a fraction of a second, toward her ass as she walks ahead. I whip my head back and my hand goes automatically to my chest, grabbing a handful of T-shirt and crushing it between my fingers. I feel a dragon of envy erupt in my chest. They’re getting along. When did this happen? I rack my brain, trying to recall if I saw Julia last night when we came home, but I can’t remember. I don’t know if it’s the wine or the weed’s fault, but I’m drawing a complete blank.

  “Evie?” Nick asks as he rounds the corner to catch me thumping my temple with the base of my palm.

  “Hmmm?” I ask, dropping my hand and abandoning any attempt to remember.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, nothing.” He gives me an arch look but we’re interrupted by a mini-stampede.

  “Mama!” Casey throws herself at my legs.

  “Hey baby!” I scoop her up and give Nick an innocent smile before following Jesse and Dylan into the kitchen.

  “What do you guys feel like for lunch?” Julia calls brightly as she steps into the kitchen a minute later. She stops dead at the sight of me, her expression a mix of surprise, delight and guilt. Guilt. What would she be feeling guilty about? “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be up,” Julia apologises. “Do you want me to...?” she gestures toward the fridge.

  “Oh!” Oh. Of course. She doesn’t want to “mom” my children in front of me.

  “No, you go ahead,” I tell her, taking a seat at the island. Nick settles himself against the counter opposite while Julia rummages through the fridge. Seeing me sitting and accessible, Casey rushes off to fetch her crayon box and a colouring-in book that Mary-Anne brought over the last time she visited.

  “Colour with me.” She’s not asking.

  “Sure, baby.” I lift her onto my knee and we go through the motions of choosing the perfect picture. After paging through the book twice, I finally settle on a picture of a basket of flowers. “This one!” I say. Casey promptly turns the page and starts colouring the ears of what I assume is a donkey, but could well be a basset hound.

  “Who draws these things?” I mutter.

  “You’re not colouring!” Casey chides.

  “How are you feeling?” Nick asks as I snatch up a broken brown crayon. “Does your head hurt?” His tone is teasing and I discreetly flip him the bird.

  “Mommy naughty!” Casey gasps. Does this kid ever miss anything?

  “Mommy very naughty,” Nick agrees, still grinning. “Oh, sorry!” he shifts aside to let Julia reach into the cupboard behind him. For a second, with her head at waist height and her long, lovely hair trailing toward the floor, it looks like they’ve been caught in a compromising position and I raise my brows at Nick before jerking my head toward Julia and waggling my eyebrows.

  Nick frowns, glances down and realises what it looks like and his face turns puce. I laugh out loud as Julia pops back up. She gives me a smile, no doubt assuming I’m laughing at something Casey did and Nick shakes his head behind her back. “You are terrible!” he mouths.

  I mouth back Olive Juice.

  We’re distracted by a high-pitched mewling. Doctor Moxley has snaked into the kitchen. He gives us each an equally disdainful look before leaping onto the counter.

  Julia spots him sniffing the sandwich ham she just laid out and she rushes across the kitchen on her long legs like a baby giraffe.

  “No, Doc-!”

  “Julia!” I half-shriek, cutting her off before she can speak his name. I accidentally let it slip the morning she moved in and I’ve been terrified she’ll let it slip ever since. Doctor Moxley gives a hiss of terror and launches himself out of the room while Nick and Julia turn to gape at me. “Sorry, but I think I spilt some coffee over there earlier,” I wave my hand in the general direction of the floor before her. “I don’t want you to slip.”

  “Oh,” she shakes her head. Nick’s eyes are narrowed, never a good sign. Julia bends down to inspect the floor for any slipping hazard and I catch Nick giving her another quick once-over. The dragon in my chest hisses.

  “You ruined it!” Casey snatches the crayon in my hand and I see that I’ve marked the page with a jagged brown line.

  “Sorry, sweetheart.” I pick up the eraser to rub it out. “See, all fixed.”

  She grins up at me, grey crayon hovering, and then scribbles in the top left-hand corner of the page with a gurgle of cheeky laughter.

  “Casey!” I mock-gasp. “What are you doing?”

  “I can do that,” Nick says, stepping forward and seizing a red roll-up.

  I grab the blue and wield it like a sword. “Me too!”

  Dylan is quick to join in the fun, and, to my delighted surprise, even Jesse leans over to add to the chaos.

  Within seconds the donkey-hound has vanished under a rainbow riot of colour and I’m tickling Casey under her chin. She squirms on my lap, shrieking, while Nick attacks her feet. By the time we’ve stopped laughing, I look up to find Julia gone.

  16

  Julia

  Safe inside my room with the door shut, I pick up my pillow and hurl it across the room. It’s not fair! The Danvers are a beautiful family and this shouldn’t be happening to them. I can still hear the faint sounds of Casey’s infectious laughter from downstairs and I feel a sob well up in my chest. I left because I didn’t want to intrude on such a precious and private moment. It’s theirs, a moment to cherish when… I stifle a scream and the second pillow joins the first on the floor. I wait until the house is silent and I’m completely composed before I head back downstairs. I’m going to visit my dad this afternoon. Sundays are my official day off, but I hadn’t wanted to leave Evie this morning - she’d needed the rest.

  Nick and I had taken the kids to the park. After our talk last night all my reservations had been allayed. I’d imagined him to be a cold, angry man but that’s so far from the truth it’s laughable. I completely understand now why he was standoffish toward me in the beginning. He’s terrified of losing Evie, and my presence is just another reminder that this might happen, that she’s growing too weak to do what she used to. Nick is nothing like I thought he was. He’s kind, considerate and utterly devoted to his family. It’s no wonder Evie fell in love with him.

  I find them nestled together on the sofa, watching cartoons. The kids are eating ham sandwiches.

  “Sorry, I was going to do that,” I say. Nick and Evie’s heads swivel to look at me.

  “Hey, I wondered where you’d disappeared to,” Evie says.

  “I had to use the bathroom.”

  Casey is lying with her head in Evie’s lap, her tiny hand stroking Evie’s thigh while Evie’s fingers comb through her hair. Dylan is on Nick’s lap, playing with Nick’s phone.

  “Where’s Jesse?” I ask.

  “He’s eating in the kitchen,” Evie murmurs. Something in her voice isn’t right.

  “I’ll just go and say goodbye before I leave and grab my things from the fridge.” I’d popped out to the store yesterday
to pick up a few things for Evie and I’d bought my ingredients for Sunday lunch at the same time.

  Jesse is straight-backed and serious at the island, a half-eaten ham sandwich on his plate.

  “You okay, Jess?”

  “We’re not supposed to eat in the living-room. It’s the rule.”

  “I don’t think Mom and Dad are sticking to that rule today. It’s Sunday. Maybe the rules don’t count on a Sunday.”

  “They don’t count at all anymore.” He is so angry, I can feel the rage radiating from him.

  “Jess,” I put my hand on his shoulder and he shrugs it off so furiously that he knocks over his cup of water.

  “I’ll get that,” I say, relieved to have an excuse to round the counter and get a proper look at his face. Jesse is a brave little boy but he can’t stop the tears that course down his cheeks. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” An angry swat at his wet cheeks.

  I pull at the roll of kitchen towel, my mind racing. I should consult Evie and Nick first, but right now, Jesse is the one who needs me. “Hey,” I say, mopping up the water. “I’m heading over to my dad’s. Would you like to join me? If your parents are okay with it, that is.”

  “You’re going now?”

  “Yeah. He used to be a jockey, I can show you his medals if you like? But, like I said, only if your mom and dad say it’s okay that you come along.”

  “They’ll say no.”

  “Let me check.”

  He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter either way, but I can sense he really wants to come. It’s only when I’m back in the living-room, facing the back of Evie and Nick’s heads that I start to panic. I’ve only been working for them a little under a week. They’re going to think I’m some sort of child-snatcher.

  “Um… Evie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think it would be okay if I took Jesse with me. I mean, would you mind?”