Page 9

Esme
Fuck, I felt so crap. Dropping the kids off at Slow River Ranch yesterday had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. The way Ariel clung to me, even though she was still mad at me for making her go. God, I could have burst into tears. I held in the tears all the way home, all through the long, boring Friday night. Even this morning, waking up in the trailer by myself, I’d kept it together.
But the day just yawned in front of me, mocking me with how great the weather was. How busy the town was on a bright day in early summer. Everyone getting ready for summer break, shopping for supplies, gearing up to have some family fun. Not me, though. Instead, I was shopping for my own birthday cake, planning to light the candles by myself, sing happy birthday to myself, blow the candles out by myself, then eat the whole goddamn cake. By myself. Because that’s just the sorry kind of loser I was.
Maybe I should have gone to the diner. Even though I hadn’t managed to score a shift, they’d at least make a bit of a fuss of me. That felt too needy and desperate, though, so I’d opted for the more depressing option. Shame, because I could really do with some company right now.
At least I had the sense to buy the smallest cake in the cabinet. A chocolate and strawberry concoction made fresh that morning by the friendly, pink-haired lady behind the counter. She was so friendly, actually, that I went to the effort of asking her to pipeHappy Birthday, Esmeon the top of the cake. Yeah, I said I was a sad loser.
The idea of going home to eat the cake in my trailer seemed impossible, so instead, I headed for the gazebo in the middle of the square. It was hard to keep my head high as I crossed the little footbridge over the creek, and I felt my nose sting with tears I refused to shed.
Sitting down, I unboxed the cake, pulled the pack of candles from the bag, and started poking them in. Twenty-three in all. Fuck, this was way more depressing than I’d thought it would be. Which was saying something, since I’d known it was going to be awful. There was something about pushing each candle shaped year of my life into the soft, squishy cake that hit me really hard. For someone so young, I felt absolutely fucking ancient.
The tenth candle represented the year Ariel was born. Sweet, thoughtful, insightful Ariel. Who saw straight through my shit. All my pretenses of pretending everything was okay. Pretending I was okay. A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it away. Another followed soon after and I just couldn’t fight it anymore.Fuck it. It’s my birthday, I can cry if I want to.
So I did, lighting the candles while tears burnt my eyes and clogged my throat.
“Hey.”
Oh fuck. Oh Jesus. I knew that voice. Swallowing heavily, I cleared my throat. “Hey.” Without looking up, I rummaged through my handbag for my sunglasses, blowing out a breath of relief when my fingers curled around them. Once they were on my face and I was safely armored, I looked up at Wolfe, forcing my lips into some sort of rictus of a smile. It felt so forced, like my muscles had atrophied. I’m surprised it didn’t scare him away.
“Too late, Esme. I already saw you crying.” He sat on the stone bench across from me, leaning forward on the table. Looking ridiculously cool in his navy polo shirt and aviator sunglasses, despite the summer heat. He belonged on the pages of a glossy magazine, with a sexy, sophisticated woman on his arm. Not with me, in my sad little life in Esperance.
“I’m fine.” Liar.
He tilted his head, pushing back the hair that flopped forward onto his forehead. Reading the words in pink icing underneath the candles. “It’s your birthday?”
“Yup.”
He looked at me for a long moment, making me squirm in discomfort. I couldn’t make out his expression behind the glasses, couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. I mean, I could imagine it, but that seriously made me feel like shit.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not going to sing to you. That’s my gift to you on this sunshiny day.”
That almost made me smile.
“You gonna blow the candles out?”
I looked down at the cake, back up at Wolfe, his lips curved in a half smile as he watched me. Feeling a little lighter, I tucked my hair behind my ears and, taking a deep breath, blew all the candles out in one go. If they’d been here, the kids would have all clapped and whooped and I would have made some joke about not being that old I couldn’t blow out a full cake of candles. But they weren’t here. Sigh.
Wolfe continued to survey me, still with that unreadable look on his face. What the fuck was I meant to do now. Oh, yeah. “Would you like a slice?”
“Sure.”
Okay, turns out that was actually a bad idea. Not really planning to eat in the town square, or have a guest, I hadn’t brought plates or cutlery with me. When I’d made the impulsive decision to stop here to light the candles, I’d had the vague thought that I was just going to pull bits off with my fingers. “Umm, fuck.” Pulling all the candles off, I lifted the cake a little and with my finger and thumb on top and bottom, broke off a reasonably sized chunk.Classy, Esme. Real classy.
Wolfe took it from me with a polite thanks, as though we were in some sort of upscale restaurant. “Wow, it’s good.”
“Yeah,Poppy’sdo great cakes.” Not that I had the chance to get them very often. They were usually pretty far out of my price range. Which reminded me. “I still owe you for the groceries.”
“Leave it.”
His voice was low, a warning. He was going to be mad if I pushed it, but just leaving it didn’t feel right. “Don’t be like that. I owe you fair and square.”
“Esme.” Oooh, his tone was even deeper still.