Page 75 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
The doctor comes back with a wheelchair and a set of crutches for when the ribs have healed, and a discharge letter. I hover while Darcy inches himself to the edge of the bed to change clothes, reluctant to let me help him, but impeded enough that he doesn’t have a choice.
His body is a mass of scars, and he’s obviously self-conscious, and one day he’s going to let me kiss every single one of them until he believes me when I say he’s gorgeous, but for now, just being okay is enough.
22
‘Why do we have to go this way? I don’t want to see anyone.’
‘Well, firstly because I’m not pushing a wheelchair through that muddy forest. Both of us have seen more than enough of that forest for one twenty-four-hour period, and secondly, because Cleo said it was important that I stop by the shop for a minute and I’ve already texted her that we’re on the way. Plus, we need to get your keys from Witt so I can pick up clothes and whatever else you need from your shop. And someone had better make sure that Mrs Potts hasn’t actually movedinto 1001 Nights. Ali won’t be best pleased to be presented with dead-or-otherwise mice in a restaurant.’
The rain of last night is ancient history and Ever After Street is bathed in sunlight as I push Darcy’s wheelchair down the cobblestone street on the way back from the hospital. Witt had put a hat and scarf in the bag, so he’s wearing a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes and an oversized scarf is wrapped around him from chest to the bridge of his nose. He can barely see out, and I wish he didn’t still feel the need to hide his scars, but it can’t be easy when he’s stayed hidden for years. And sure enough, as we round the corner and turn towards the narrowpart of the road before Ever After Street splits into a wishbone shape, he lets out a groan. ‘Iknewthere’d be people.’
Gathered in front of our shops is… everyone. All of our colleagues. Friends. Sadie, Lissa, and Mickey. Cleo. Imogen from the Sleeping Beauty shop. Scarlett and her boyfriend from Rapunzel’s hair salon. A couple of people who are covering the tearoom while Lilith is still on health-related leave. Mrs Potts is in her usual window seat in the bookshop behind them.
And they all start clapping when they see us. My fingers are touching Darcy’s shoulder and I can feel how uncomfortable it’s making him, but I can’t help getting a bit choked up. It’s like a welcome home party. Everyone’s left their shops on a Monday lunchtime just to see us. It makes it feel like coming home.
There’s a mismatched pair of stepladders, one on either side of The Beast’s Enchanted Rose Garden. Witt is standing at the top of one and Ali is on the other, and between them, they’re holding a big white sheet up so that it covers the front of Darcy’s shop and hides it from view.
‘Oh, what the hell has happened now?’ Darcy mutters to the men on the ladders. ‘Has someone put my windows through? Or graffiti? That’s all I need.’
‘Nothing bad,’ Witt reassures him. ‘It’s actually us who’ve done something…’
Witt struggles with a stutter and Ali takes over the explanation. ‘We hope you won’t mind. Please know it was done with a huge amount of love and respect.’
Sadie does a quick drum roll and they drop the sheet.
I was already holding back tears, but now they spill over instantly.
They’ve repainted Darcy’s shop sign. Now it just reads The Enchanted Rose Garden. The ‘Beast’ part has been erased.
My hand is still on his shoulder and I hear his intake of breath as he realises what they’ve done and the significance behind it.
Ali climbs down from the stepladder and comes over. ‘I speak for all of us when I say we never, ever want to hear the word “beast” uttered on this street again.’ He holds his hand out to shake Darcy’s. ‘It’s a pleasure to know you, mate. You’ll always be one of us.’
Darcy’s breathing is shuddery as he shakes Ali’s hand, and his shoulders are shaking as he tries to hold back tears. Everyone’s watching, waiting for a response. I give his shoulder a squeeze, because I think he’s too touched to put it into words.
‘Do you know how painful it is to cry with broken ribs?’ he eventually chokes out from underneath the scarf still hiding his face.
Everyone laughs, a relieved sort of laugh, like they weren’t sure if he was going to take it graciously or yell at them.
I lean down and rest my head against his, holding his shoulder as his hand goes inside the scarf to scrub at his eyes. I want to hug him more than anything, but hugs with broken ribs and head injuries require more navigation than we’ve got time for with everyone still watching on.
Witt is next to come over to shake Darcy’s hand. ‘Love ya, my friend. We’re all here if you need anything with your recovery. You too, Marnie.’ He holds a hand out to shake mine as well. ‘If he needs anything he won’t ask for, you ask, all right?’
I give him a nod as everyone comes over, one by one, to shake Darcy’s hand and wish him well.
Before long, his head is bowed and, under the scarf, he’s wiping away tears again. Being accepted is getting to him in the best way possible.
‘Marnie,’ he whispers, jerking his head for me to bend down and listen. ‘Will you help me stand?’
He shifts carefully to the edge of the chair and I crouch to support him as he uses his good leg to push himself upright and slings an arm around my shoulders, using me for support as he stands. My arm slides around him, holding onto his hip from the other side. Apart from the broken bones, he’s bruised everywhere and this is clearly hurting, but he’s not giving up.
‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.’ His fingers lift towards the shop. ‘No one’s ever made me feel so welcome, or so wanted, or so accepted. I never thought I could be a part of anything until Marnie, and then all of you, dragged me kicking and screaming into the Ever After Street community. I don’t know what to say or how to ever thank you.’ He takes a deep breath and gasps in pain because deep breaths and recently broken ribs aren’t the best mix. ‘But it’s time I introduced myself.’
He leans his head to the side and rests his chin against my hair for a moment, his arm tightening around my shoulders. Not second thoughts, just a moment of reassurance before he does what I know he’s going to do next.
This is it. Not the moment the Beast turns back into a prince, but the moment he accepts himself for who he is, and hopefully realises that other people will too.
I squeeze his hip as hard as I dare and turn my head until I can kiss his shoulder, and with a shaking hand, he takes the baseball cap off and hands it to me. He pushes a hand through his thick, light brown hair to smooth it down and starts to unwind the scarf. Around and around, slowly uncovering his shoulders, his neck, and then inch by inch, his face. His scarred cheek, the deep welts along his jaw, his once-broken nose, his misshapen eyebrow bone.
