Page 112 of Words We Didn't Say

“John!” Mum shrieked.

Dad ignored her protests and winked at me as he tossed a steak on the barbecue. “I asked her four times during those…cuddles.”

The swig of beer I’d gulped turned into concrete in my throat. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. My chest heaved in a fit of embarrassed coughs. Mum was frantic, trying to pat my back, but I shook her off.

“I’m—f-fine—” I wheezed. I was just shocked. The idea of my parents having ‘cuddles’ was—

Nope.

Not going there.

Neverevergoing there.

“John! Honestly! You’ve scarred the boy for life.” Mum whacked him on the backside with her tea towel and hissed, “None of thosecuddlesfor you tonight.”

She stormed across the deck, disappearing into the kitchen, but not before shooting another death glare back at him. He didn’t seem bothered, chuckling away as he flipped the steaks.

“That’ll keep your mother’s agenda in check for a couple of hours,” Dad said. “And don’t listen to her talk about needing something over the top. You don’t. Tell your girl some words from your heart and ask. You still got your grandmother’s ring?”

I patted my pocket with a slow smile. “I’ve always got the ring.”

“So, what’s holding you back from asking, then?” Dad asked. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“What do you think about talking to Andie first? She’s the closest person Eden has to family. Is it stupid to want her approval?”

Dad shook his head. “I like Andie. She doesn’t pull any punches, and she has decent taste in beer. Show her the Ford F100 I’m restoring in the garage. She’ll get a kick out of it. And once you’ve had your talk, you need to find your girl.”

I dropped my head.

“What’s going on, mate?”

“What if Eden says no? I’ve had plenty of job offers since I left Worley, but I haven’t settled on anything yet. I’ve just been sitting around on my backside for two months, wasting time reading books and trying to sort my shit out with the therapist.”

“Healing takes time. Don’t worry about the job for now. You’ve needed to slow down for a long time, mate, and you’ve been sensible putting away for a rainy day—not that Eden’s with you for your money.”

“He’s right.” Eden’s sweet voice melted me to goo. Her arms wrapped around my waist. “I don’t need your lousy money.”

I smiled into her hair, the bouncy waves and soft coconut smell tickling my nose. “What do you need?” I kissed her temple.

“More of these kisses. Lay one on me, big fella.” She tapped her cheek, and I obliged.

Dad’s expression turned solemn. That was a look I hadn’t seen since making the cut for the Under 14’s cricket team. Was it relief? Pride? Maybe he was hoping for all the same things as Mum—a new member of the family, grandkids, and buying a ridiculous minivan—but never said so. I hoped I wouldn’t let him down. I sure as hell had on that cricket team.

“Hey, Andie!” Dad called out. “Zach’s gonna show you the Ford F100.”

Andie’s eyebrows shot up with interest. “Seriously?” She launched off the lounge and smoothed down her jeans in record time. “The one you mentioned before? What year?”

“1966,” Dad called back like it meant something.

It must have. Andie was already barrelling down the back stairs. The impatient look thrown over her shoulder screamed at me to hurry.

After I flipped on the lights for the garage, I made my way over to the rust bucket taking pride of place in the centre. I knew less than nothing about cars. I wished Dad had suggested an awkward conversation about the lawn mower or the vegetable garden. That was more in my wheelhouse than the stupid car.

I pointed at the rusty old truck. “The car,” I said with a shrug.

“This is so fucking cool.” Andie’s voice was awestruck as she wandered around, inspecting everything under the open hood in close detail. “Your dad said he’s replaced the crow cams, all the pistons and valves, and he’s just re-cored the radiator.”

Whatever that meant. “Ah…yeah.”

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