Page 13 of The Version You Hide

Pamela scoffs. “That’s a slight over-exaggeration, Mackenzie. There’s not that many. I just need to clear a decent space.”

“Why are we cleaning out the loft again, Mum?” Kristen asks. “Which one of your crazy hobbies is going to be performed up here this time?”

“It’s not crazy,” Pamela retaliates. “It’s yoga. I want to create a lovely calming space where I can realign my chakras.”

Now it’s Kristen’s turn to snort and when her eyes find mine, I can’t help the smirk that forms on my lips.

I love Pamela so much. She’s like the mother I never had. Since my arrival in Cliff Haven, I’ve loved spending time with her, and I’d enjoyed volunteering at her veterinary clinic on occasion.

Kristen had warned me about her crazy hobbies and ventures, but I never realised just how many extracurriculars this woman went through. I have to give her credit though. No one could ever say she didn’t try anything new. She knows how to get the most out of life. Maybe we should all aspire to be like her.

“Oh! Look, Mum. I found a box of all your discarded hobbies,” Kristen says sarcastically. She lists each item as she pulls them out. “A scrapbooking kit, a bunch of knitting needles and yarn. Oh, and a tennis racket.”

“I only quit when I got tennis elbow!” Pamela interjects.

“You got tennis elbow? After playing for what… like… five minutes?”

“Don’t tease me, Kristen. I was in pain for a month. And I still plan on learning how to make that Christmas sweater for Ben,” she adds as she reefs the knitting needles from my grip and places them aside.

“Well, that’s bound to be uncomfortable,” I remark.

“Why?” She takes on a bold stance, her hands resting defiantly on her hips. “You don’t think I’m capable of making it the right size, Mackenzie?”

“Actually, I was referring to the fact that it barely gets below twenty-eight degrees Celsius in this town over the Christmas period. Are you planning on going to the snow?”

Pamela tilts her head, dropping her hands to her sides. “Hmmm…You make a good point,” she admits. She reaches forward and tosses them into the box we’ve set aside to donate to the Cliff Haven helpline.

“Hey, Mum,” Kristen says, holding up a set of paint brushes and oil paints. “Remember when you were going to be the next Picasso?”

“Oh, you stop it right now, Kristen Riley!” Pamela holds up a finger at her daughter. “You know damn well I only took that painting class for your benefit.”

Kristen’s face softens as she gently places her arms around her mother’s shoulders. “I know. I’m only teasing. You know I love you, Mum. And thank you. It really did get my mind off Henley for about all of five minutes.”

I smile, realising now that they must be referring to the art class that Pamela took Kristen to after Henley left town in a desperate attempt to help her daughter move on with her life after his abandonment.

“How is Henley going, anyway,” Pamela asks.

A smile lights up Kristen’s face. “Really great, actually. Things are better than they’ve ever been. His business is doing well. He’s booked out for the next few months but I’m still driving him crazy with wedding plans.”

“I’m happy for you, kid. I really am.” Pamela gazes upon her daughter lovingly, tossing her arms around her shoulders and giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

The sinking weight of envy wraps itself around my ribs. I’m suddenly conscious of the gaping void inside of me. What must it feel like to have that one person that knows you inside and out, who will love you unconditionally? For the first time in a long time, I feel completely robbed.

“It makes everything we went through worth it, you know?” Kristen looks up at Pamela and then to me, radiating happiness.

I nod. Even though I don’t know. I can’t imagine ever having the kind of life that would make all the shit I’ve been through worth it.

“I’m glad everything worked out between you two,” Pamela adds, then turning back to the task at hand she points to the box Kristen has just opened. “I don’t need the art supplies. They’ve served their purpose. Would you like them, Mackenzie? I’ve seen those sketches you do in that little art book of yours. You’re probably the only one in the family with any talent.”

My heart aches hearing the word.

Family.

I’ve never really known family until now. At least not the kind that counts.

I grew up with an alcoholic father that was generally absent, whether it be emotionally or physically. My mother ran off when I was three for reasons unknown to me. I guess I’ve always blamed myself for that. For not being the kind of kid she could love enough to stick around.

Henley coming to give our father a piece of his mind had been the best and worst thing that had ever happened to me. The best because it led me to Kristen, Pamela and her stepdad, Ben. The worst because it upset my crazy, criminal boyfriend enough to hunt me down and kidnap me.

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