Page 11 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
“Mark’s agreed to the divorce,” Leonie blurted, not exactly sure why she brought it up. Maybe it was that moment in the doorway at Hayden’s house, where she felt the urge to kiss him, felt it would be happily received. But ink hadn’t even hit paper yet, and she didn’t want him thinking he was just any port in the storm.
“Hey, congratulations,” Hayden replied. Then, after a quiet moment, “Was that the right thing to say? Seems weird to congratulate someone on a breakup.”
Leonie smiled, suspecting he could see it with his keen shifter eyes. She chuckled. “Yeah, it’s the right thing to say, and thank you. I’ve found a lawyer, he’s getting one too, and we’ve just gotta go over the split of everything and sign the papers. I don’t expect it’ll draw out. I think he’s keen to move on.”
“And you?”
“I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more.” She fiddled with a waxy leaf. “No, that’s a lie. I’ve wanted a lot more, just not from him. I’m really looking forward to a fresh start.”
“What’ll you do first?”
“First, find a new job and a place to live.”
“I could help with that. Lupe’s only at the café when his other job downsizes staff for winter.”
“Oh, what does he do?”
“He works at a native plant nursery in the Hills. They’re upsizing again from next week, so we’ll be down one person. How’d you feel about doing a trial with us—a paid one—to see if it suits you?”
“Really? Just like that? You don’t need to, like, check my credentials or anything?”
“You still know your way around a kitchen, right?”
“Sure, but . . .” Leonie straightened up. She didn’t know why she was reluctant. She’d never wanted to get into dentistry; it was just the path of least resistance, the familiar, expected thing. And a little trial at a cosy café with Hayden and his siblings could be wonderfully different, a way to figure out what she did want to do. “All right, count me in. Thanks, Hayds.”
“Don’t mention it. And, um . . . the offer of that spare room is still open if you ever need it.”
“Hayds . . .” She hugged him, gratefully, feeling for a moment like they were twelve again and waiting in the cold after school. Only this time it was night, and every word and gesture seemed to mean more than it used to. “You’re kind, you know that?”
“I know, it’s why you love me.”
His response was like a whirlpool, pulling her into its centre, where forgotten feelings and memories lay hidden beneath the surface. That word, “love”, rang with an old truth, one with long roots that ran deep into decades past.
“Maybe I do,” she said, the words coming out a whisper, more for her ears than his. The steady arm around her waist as she held him suggested he might have heard her. But really, she wouldn’t have minded if he did.
7
A week later, Leonie hung up her apron and wheeled her empty suitcase the few blocks from The Spice Pelage to the townhouse. Nothertownhouse ortheirtownhouse anymore, though both her name and Mark’s were still on the paperwork. It just looked so foreign to her now, even though she knew she’d find that hint of underlying red through the glossy white paint on the front door.
Even surrounded by her own things, Leonie felt like a stranger in someone else’s house. She got to work, gathering up clothes, books, shoes, and whatever else seemed essential and urgent that would fit into her suitcase, plus a second suitcase unearthed from the storeroom under the stairs.
Her phone buzzed with a text from her mum.
MAMA CHIN
Don't carry your suitcase on the bus. You'll hurt your shoulder
ME
Thanks Mum, I'll be fine
MAMA CHIN
What time you going to the house?
ME
I'm already here.
