Page 19 of Riding the Waves

“That’s lovely,” she said, getting up to peer into his bed, where the covers lay scrunched at one end. “Where are your covers?” she asked Marty after glancing at the empty bottom bunk.

“In Daddy’s room,” Billy answered for him. “Marty slept in Daddy’s bed like a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Marty replied without conviction.

Amy gave Billy a steely look. “Don’t say unkind things. Be nice to your brother.” Her eyes drifted back to the suitcase. “I could unpack that, if you want?” she said to Damian, then wished she could take it back when he clenched his jaw.

This was what had always annoyed him about her: the way she needed order, and for things to be done in a particular way. It was no doubt part of the reason he’d been so keen to get away from her when the boys were tiny, and definitely a contributing factor for him not wanting her around for the summer. He thought she’d spend the summer criticising him, and she was already proving him right.

What did it even matter if the clothes didn’t get put in the wardrobe straight away?

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Damian said.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Daddy got me another Harry Potter wand,” Billy said, wafting it under her nose and pressing the button to start the annoying zinging noise that she knew too well.

“I didn’t realise Anthony had already bought them for the boys,” Damian said.

“That’s okay. These can stay here and you can have the pleasure of that annoying sound as well.”

His lips quirked to a hint of a smile. “I also didn’t realise how obnoxious they were when I bought them.”

“No one would buy them if they realised that.”

Damian shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll give you a shout when dinner’s ready,” he said before leaving them to explore the array of toys scattered on the carpet.

CHAPTER 9

The evening at Damian’s place felt very domesticated. Amy had the feeling their lives were playing out in an alternate universe in which she hadn’t married Anthony, and she and Damian had raised their family the way they should have done. It was easy to get lost in the daydream while the boys chatted away over pizza and as they all ate ice cream together out on the patio with the lingering sunshine casting everything in a golden glow.

Amy knew she should be getting back to the bungalow. There was no reason to hang around, other than the fact that she didn’t want to go. She told herself it would cause an issue if she left before bedtime.

At story time, Marty and Billy insisted she do the honours, dragging her into Damian’s room to read on his bed, as had apparently become the routine. The bed was unmade, with Damian’s duvet crumpled and hanging off one side and Marty’s at the other. A few items of clothing were scattered on the floor but it was tidier than she’d imagined.

“You have to sit in the middle of the bed,” Billy said, pulling on her hand. “Then we can both see the pictures.”

The scent of Damian hung in the air and suddenly it all felt stifling. Taking a step backwards, Amy stepped on Damian’s foot and would have collided with him completely if he hadn’t caught her with his hands at her shoulders.

“Sorry,” she said, feeling an immediate tingle on her skin from his touch.

“I was just going to say it’s probably a bit of a mess in here.” Stepping around her, he plucked a T-shirt from the floor and slung it in the washing basket in the corner before setting about making the bed.

“Why don’t we read on the bunk bed?” Amy suggested, a manic edge to her voice that she couldn’t control. “It’ll be like being in a cave if we sit on the bottom bunk. Won’t that be fun? Let’s put Marty’s bedding back on there so it’s cosy.”

“But I want to sleep with Daddy again,” Marty complained.

“You should at least start in your own bed.” Hastily, she scooped up his bedding and left Damian’s room, not leaving any more room for discussion.

Only when she heard Damian’s footsteps descending the stairs did she feel she could breathe again. Her heart settled back into a gentler rhythm as she read the story. With drooping eyelids, the boys were easy to settle once Amy reached the end of the story. Billy sleepily climbed up the ladder, and Marty lay down with no mention of moving to Daddy’s bed – which Amy was happy about since she was sure going back in there would overwhelm her once again.

Leaving them with a goodnight kiss each, she crept downstairs, where Damian was relaxing on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand and his bare feet propped on the coffee table.

“They’re so tired,” Amy said, hovering beside the armchair. “I think they’ll both go straight to sleep.”

“Busy day for them,” Damian remarked, then chewed on his bottom lip. “I’ll unpack their things tomorrow. And I promise not to let them eat junk food for every meal. It’s just hard when they first arrive … I don’t like to say no to them and I’d rather spend my time with them than unpacking and making sure the house is neat and tidy.”

Amy sank onto the arm of the chair. “It’s fine. You don’t need to sound so defensive about it. I didn’t actually make any comment.”

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