Page 116 of Loving Wild
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Saturday afternoon rollsinto Saturday night. I dilute my Sangria with extra lemonade after just two drinks as I, too, want to be able to take one of the jet skis out tomorrow. We eat steak, chops, and burgers cooked on the barbie, and are treated to a talent show by the kids.
Zac and Sam have two boys and two girls, their girls being twins, Coop and Jess have three boys and a girl. They collectively range in age from sixteen to eleven, with Ava being the second youngest.
Once the talent show is over, the guitars come out. The kids drag their blankets, bean bags, and floor cushions over from their firepit and join the adults to sit around ours. This makes Dani happy as she’s had a camera hanging around her neck since last night, and now everyone is sitting together, it makes her job as official photographer a lot easier.
We’re all silent as Joe plays guitar, and Jess sings ‘Landslide’. Despite being curled into Gabe with a blanket over my legs, I feel goosebumps prickle my skin at how good her voice is.
I’m not sure if I shift or tense, but Gabe notices the instant Joe plays the opening chords of Bread’s, ‘Everything I Own’.
I was asleep when he came to bed last night, and I left him sleeping when I went out this morning, so we’ve not had a moment on our own together all day. It’s a different dynamic for us. We spend so much time together, but we’re usually alone. Even with Ava living with us, she loves her room so much, she spends most of her evenings down there.
He’s watched me though, several times I’ve looked up to find his eyes on me, or he’s been talking to his dad or brothers, and I’ve looked up because I’ve sensed him somehow, only to find them all looking at me.
His lips brush the top of my head then my temple.
“You okay?” he asks as I stare into the fire.
It’s that question that always does it for me. When I’m not okay, I can usually hold my shit together, right up until someone asks if I’m okay.
I take a moment to swallow down what feels like a melon-sized ball of emotion lodged in my throat and wonder, what the fuck is that? Why does it happen? Does it have a name? Does everyone experience that sensation?
“Ren?” Gabe shifts as he says my name, sits up a little straighter, and pulls me into him tighter. The hand he had resting on my leg under the blanket comes up to my face, and his thumb brushes at the tears I hadn’t even realised were there.
“Babe? Talk to me,” he says quietly.
Turning my head from the flames of the fire, I look at him in their glow. When I blink, more tears fall.
“This was the song I asked to be played at my dad’s funeral.” Even to me, my voice sounds thick with the emotion clogging it.
“Babe, shit. Want me to tell them to . . .”
“No, no,” I cut him off. “I love this song, my dad loved this song, it just never fails to make me cry.” I take a deep breath in through my nose and try to get a grip.
“Wish I knew him,” he says quietly, triggering a whole new set of feelings.
When you lose someone, it’s not just the memories of whatwasthat hurts. It’s the imaginings of whatwasn’t. All of the lost possibilities, opportunities, and experiences. Those people special to you, they never got to meet. Sometimes, they hurt more.
“He’d have liked you,” I tell him with a smile but turn my head so I can look back into the fire. “He’d have given you the talk—break her heart, and I’ll break your fucking neck—then he’d ask if you wanted a beer and what football team you supported.”
“What team would I tell him?”
“Definitely not Tottenham.” I feel his chest move as he chuckles against me.
“Does the whole world hate Tottenham?”
I smile through my tears and tilt my face up to his.
“Don’t ask me why, but yeah, apparently.”
“So which team? We were raised on Chelsea, but secretly, I always crushed on Cantona, so it was Man U for me.”
“Glory hunter.” I snort.
“Play a song we know,” Louie, one of Zac’s boys calls out, making us both look up.
“Dad’s got one,” Ava says from where she’s sitting on a bean bag in front of Dani’s chair. “Dad, play the one you practised this morning.”
