Losing Faith (Surfers Way) (19 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ryder

BOOK: Losing Faith (Surfers Way)
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“You’re killing me in those shorts, Lacey Lou. Like you have no idea how much.” His warm fingers brush against my cheek. Quade moves in close, blocking me from leaving the room.

 

“Rise and shine, birthday girl,” Mum’s happy voice shrills from the corner of the room. A hit of sunlight probes into my eyes.
Thanks for killing my sexy dream, Mum.

“What time is it?” I grumble, trying to focus on her face, which is hard to see with the light beaming behind her.

“Early. You know what your father would say.”

“He who sleeps does not catch da fish,” we both mock in Dad’s accent and laugh.

“I thought maybe I should go in and help Dad today. I know he said I should take time off, but—”

“It’s your birthday. You’re not expected to work. Besides, your father is closing the shop tonight so there won’t be nearly as much to do.”

He’s closing it?
I would’ve thought he’d get my uncle and auntie to cover. Lily as well. Tears well in my eyes. God I love him. “B-but he hardly ever closes the shop?”

“You’re the apple of his eye, Lacey. He’d do anything for you.”

Cue tears.

I swipe at the wetness leaking from my eye.

“Now now, don’t cry. Your brother sent me a message on that Viber thingy you put on my phone. He says he can Skype now.” She takes my laptop off my desk and sits it beside me on the bed. “Happy birthday, my sweet girl.” She plants her lips on my forehead, smacking a loud kiss.

I stretch my arms overhead and sit up, stuffing my pillows behind me for support. “Thanks,” I say through a screeching yawn.

“Why don’t you do the hook up thingy”— she makes a circle with her finger, motioning at the screen—“and I’ll go get your breakfast.”

“Thanks Mum.”

I fire up the laptop, and go to the bathroom and splash water on my face. After a minute, my hair is somewhat tidy and I don’t look entirely like a wreck.
Like someone who stayed up watching back-to-back episodes of
Suits
when they should have gone to bed
. It was a bit sad to watch it alone, but served as a reminder of the good times.

Getting comfortable beneath the covers again, I pull the computer onto my lap and open up Skype.

My phone beeps with a message. A huge smile stretches across my face when I see who it’s from and what it says.

 

Lily: Wanna hang at the beach later this morning and then go stuff our faces with ice cream for lunch?? #DoIt

 

I chuckle to myself as I text her back.

 

Me: I’m in. I’ll meet you at Runaway Beach at eleven :P

             

Lily: Sweet. Be prepared to see me eat my weight in dairy #Moo

 

Mum breezes into the room with a tray of orange juice, coffee, and pancakes piled high with chopped banana and berries on the side, and maple syrup drizzled in a zig-zag pattern.
Breakfast of champions.

“What’s so funny?” she asks as she places the tray on my beside table and moves onto the other side of the bed, sitting on top of the covers.

“Oh, it’s Lily. I’m gonna meet her at the beach later and then we’re going for ice cream.”

“That’s nice, dear.” Mum looks at the screen and scrunches her nose up. “Is it working yet?”

“Oh, one sec.” I dial Ricky, and a second later he accepts the video call.

“Heeeeyyyyyyy,” he says, his voice crackling a little through the speakers. His dark hair is wild and his white T-shirt looks like it should have been washed a day or two ago.
Boys.

“Hey Ricky,” I say and smile. It’s been ages since we’ve Skyped. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was avoiding us.

“Happy birthday, Sis. You are now totally legal to get wasted overseas. Smoke pot in Colorado if you want to.” He chuckles.
Arse.

Mum pokes her head into view. “Now, Ricky, I’m sure that’s not on Lacey’s mind.”

Ricky groans as he smiles through his teeth. “Oh, Mum. You are there. Hey. Course I’m joking. Duh.”

“Where is Josefine?” Mum says, and cranes her neck as if that will help her see around Ricky’s lounge room any better.

“Ah, she’s not here,” he says. “Anyway, let’s talk about Lace. What you doin’ today?”

Do I tell him I’m job hunting? Will he freak out about me leaving Dad in the shop? I don’t want to put any pressure on Ricky to come home. Dad promises he’ll be okay. It’s Ricky I worry about. I don’t want him to come back and resent Dad for it.

“Um, this morning I’m going to start looking at jobs and update my resume, and then go to the beach and eat ice cream until I burst.” I blurt out in one big hit.

Ricky moves closer to the camera, his dark brows pulling together. “You’re leaving the Palace?” he says in a higher-pitched tone.

“She handed in her last assignment. Any day now she’ll have her diploma,” Mum says and wraps her arm around my shoulder, leaning her head against my temple. “We’re so proud of her.”

“Wow. That’s really cool, Lace. You always had the brains out of the two of us.”

“I will take that compliment,” I say and grin.

“Ha, you would.” He scratches at the longish stubble on his chin. “Who’s gonna help Dad out, then?”

“We have a lovely new girl,” Mum says, proud as punch. “She’s been a real find.”

“A new girl, huh?’ he says. “Is she good?”

“Yes,” Mum and I say at the same time and then laugh.

“Well, I’m proud of you, Sis. Don’t worry; it’ll work out with Dad. ’Bout time you got to do something for you.”

A tear springs to my eye. I nod and focus on holding it back.
I don’t wanna cry
. “Thanks.” Does he realise how much that means to me, coming from him? How my anxiety levels just took a dive?

A loud series of knocks comes from the computer, and Ricky turns his head to the side of the room.

“I, ah, gotta go,” he says. “Happy twenty-first.” He places his outstretched fingers to his mouth, makes an exaggerated “mwah” noise and then blows me a kiss.

I blow one back to him.

“Bye, Ricky,” Mum says and waves. “I’ll do the Viber thing with you later.”

Ricky chuckles. “Yeah, Mum. Bye.”

The call is disconnected.

“I really miss that doofus sometimes,” I tell Mum and take a sip of the creamy cappuccino she’s made for me. I hum in appreciation. “I really needed this.”

“I need some of that coffee myself. I completely wore myself out yesterday making the chocolate cake to rival all others.”

I pass the cup to her and she takes a sip. “Can’t wait to taste it, Mum.”

We sit for a while as I eat breakfast and talk about resumes and jobs and what it’s like out in the real world.

By the time I leave for the beach, I’m feeling more prepared than ever to take life by the collar and lead the way. Just like Faith did.

---

At eleven, Lily is waiting at the beach, a bright blue boogie board in hand. She has a black flat cap on and a sheer white kaftan over the top of a rainbow-patterned bikini.

We swim. We get hammered by the occasional wave. We laugh. Lily is much smilier than usual. It causes a fluttering in my heart every time I catch her let her guard down.

And when we’re done with the sand and surf we each eat a bowl of ice cream with topping and nuts that’s bigger than the size of our heads.

Then I remember.

Faith’s favourite ice cream—cookies and cream with nuts, sprinkles and caramel syrup. I remember how we used to get our giant waffle cones after a beach session and then ride our bikes home one-handed while we licked the melted ice cream from our salty fingers.

Some of the best days of my childhood involve treats from the Carousel Ice Creamery.

I try to strategically wipe away a tear as Lily is pre-occupied wiping chocolate sauce from the corner of her mouth. I should be happy. So far, today has been the perfect birthday. Well, as perfect as it can be without my bestie.

Lily dips her finger into the chocolate sauce on the edge of her glass bowl and dabs it on my cheek.

“Now we’re both covered in chocolate,” she says and winks.

Then, for a moment, I forget. I focus on the here and now with my friend, Lily.

---

“You’ve yawned like the whole lesson,” I chastise Quade. “It’s distracting.”

The whites of his eyes are splintered in red, and he isn’t as switched on as normal. I routinely get in trouble for not stopping long enough at stop signs, but today I reckon I could have rolled through and he wouldn’t have said a thing.

“Didn’t sleep well,” he says through a giant yawn.

“Yeah, well yawning is contagious,” I say as I yawn. “So cut it out. Trying to concentrate here.” I poke out my tongue at him.

“If you wanna talk about distracting, how about the fact you haven’t stopped talking about Lily since we got in the car?”

A smile stretches across my lips as we pull into my driveway.
I had fun today. Lily is awesome
. “Lily and I had a good time. It was a good day.”

I pull up in front of the gates and shut off the engine, proud of another lesson done and dusted. For some reason, Dad is waiting in front of the garage.

Quade and I get out of the car.

“Hey, Dad,” I say with a wave as I pull my satchel over my head.

“Hey, Mr Marone,” Quade says, his face contorting as he fights a yawn.

“A word, Quade?” Dad calls him over with a jut of his chin. My feet plant to the ground.
Guess I’ll give them a second
.

While I lean against my car, Dad talks, but from this distance, all I can hear is mumbling. Occasionally, Quade gets a word in, but mostly nods with his arms crossed under his chest.

Dear God
. Is Dad giving him the chat about the sliced balls? Should I step in and save Quade from the embarrassment?

Dad wraps his arms around Quade’s tall frame. Quade hugs him back and then they both laugh and look at me.

I stride over to them, now curious about the smiles stretched across both of their faces.

“Something you’d like to share?” I challenge, one hand on my hip.

“Just saying ’ow good it is to ’ave ’im back in our lives,” Dad says, with a slap to Quade’s back.

Phew.

My shoulders drop and I exhale with relief. “Yeah, it is good to have him back. So no talk of special pizzas?” I raise an eyebrow at Dad, hoping like anything that he didn’t say what I think he was going to.

“Oh, we talked
all
about the pizza,” Quade says with a nod. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he turns to my father. “Message received loud and clear, sir.”

“Good, good,” Dad says, and walks towards the front door. “Ciao,” he calls out and waves. Quade waves back and then lets out a heavy breath.

“You’re looking a bit pale,” I tell Quade as I pat his cheeks now Dad is out of sight.

“My balls are that frightened right now. They’re trying to escape up my throat.”

I giggle and run my hands up his chest, swooping over his pecs to rest on his rounded shoulders. “Maybe they just need a little attention, that’s all,” I whisper in what I hope is a husky voice, and not just me sounding like I have crumbs caught in my throat.

He groans and looks over to the front of the house, smiling once his eyes meet mine. “You think it’s a good idea tempting me with stuff like that when your dad is watching us through the gap in the curtains?”

As I look over, the curtains swish shut.
Huh
.

“See? Not even watching anymore.” I run my hands back down his chest and slide them around his waist to link my fingers behind his back. “So do I get rewarded for good driving?”

“Like a reward for not knocking my teeth out?”

“How about for saving your life yesterday? That ’roo could’ve jumped through the windshield and tried to scratch your eyes out in an attempt to escape.” I’ve totally heard of that happening. “Today was pretty much smooth sailing.” Even though one of my three-point turns ended up being five. Okay, seven.

“Tell you what. With every lesson you improve, we can try a new position, or you get to choose exactly how you wanna do it.”

I tighten my arms around him. “Isn’t that kind of beneficial to you?”
Not that I mind
.

“Nope,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m being totally selfless. It’s all about you and making you a better driver. Practice makes perfect.”

I smile but a part of me is a little disappointed. He still hasn’t brought up my birthday. He mustn’t have remembered. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s a sign.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” I ask him.

He rubs at the back of his neck. “Reports,” he says on an exhale.

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