Shadow Lily Page 3

  “Neither did I,” I mumbled, wiggling my toes to prompt him along. “Do you think it’s a dumb idea?”

  “I don’t think any of your ideas are dumb,” he replied. “I think it’s brave to put yourself out there like that.”

  However ambiguous his answer might’ve been, it brought me comfort. I might’ve been a social misfit who had no friends, but at least I was loved. Somehow, that made being brave a whole lot easier.

  3. THE MAGIC WAGON

  Lily

  Seven houses stand at the top of the cliffs on Spinnaker Road, and each one has spectacular, uninterrupted ocean views. For that reason alone, it was the most sought after real estate in town.

  Back in the early eighties, my grandparents built the grandest house of them all. Intricate stonework, open plan living areas and huge windows were some of the features that made it cutting edge in its day, but the sheer size of the massive six bedroom home is what made it really impressive.

  My father inherited it when my grandfather passed, and for ten long years, it sat vacant. Maintaining an empty house is costly, so when I approached him six months ago with the offer of moving into it, he jumped at the chance.

  I didn’t care that it was now old-fashioned and kitschy. I didn’t even care that it gave off a spooky vibe at night. I’d just wanted out of my parents’ house.

  My mother was horrified by the idea, but not because she was worried about me. Her concerns were more long term.

  “This will be the end of her, John,” she warned. “She’ll fill it up with stinking stray cats. A few years from now she’ll be known as the spinster cat lady who lives in the mansion on the cliff.”

  “Nonsense,” snapped my father. “It could well become her family home.” He winked at me then, which was a comforting gesture that reduced my mum’s insult to ash.

  “Well, I hate cats,” she retorted. “I won’t be visiting.”

  And she never did, which is ironic considering that I wasn’t overly fond of cats either. If I did end up as an old spinster, I’d likely fill the house with dogs – and they’d all be fabulously dressed.

  ***

  I considered the crystal party drama to be nothing more than a blip on my radar. I woke the next morning feeling more motivated than ever to make Pawesome Designs a success. Somehow, I needed to get the word out that I was open for business and gearing up to take the pet world by storm.

  It sounded fabulous and strong in my head, but putting a plan into action was proving a little trickier. After an hour of sitting on the couch with a notebook at the ready to pen my brilliant business plan, I’d achieved nothing more productive than half a page of useless flower doodles.

  Dejected, I moved onto phase two – coffee and fresh air.

  The ocean view from the back of the house was beautiful, but when it came to watching the world pass by, I usually opted to sit on the front veranda.

  The big wicker swing chair creaked as I sat down, reminding me that it was almost as old as the house and not particularly sturdy. I set it in motion anyway, kicking myself off with my feet. With a coffee in one hand and my phone in the other, I checked out my word of the day.

  “Paucity,” I read out loud. “The presence of something in small or insufficient quantities or amounts.”

  I almost laughed out loud. I’d stumbled across a word that practically summed up my whole life.

  A paucity of confidence.

  A paucity of knowledge.

  A paucity of personal growth.

  I could’ve come up with a hundred more, but I was distracted by a little girl on a pink bike pedalling like mad as she wobbled her way down the road.

  I knew it was Bridget Décarie long before I got a good look at her. The red fairy wings on her back gave her away, and so did the giddy giggle she gave as she made a break from her parents.

  Charli continued her slow stroll, but Adam yelled something in French and ran to catch up to her. Whatever he’d said must’ve been serious because the little pink bike skidded to a stop – right outside my house.

  “Did you see me go fast, Daddy?” she asked excitedly.

  As soon as she was within reach, Adam grabbed the handlebars. “I told you to stop,” he chided.

  “I did stop,” she replied. “I stopped very fast.”

  He turned the bike around and pointed in the direction they’d come from. “Go back that way,” he ordered. “Slowly.”

  “A little bit fast?”

  The hope in her voice made me smile, but Adam didn’t see the funny side. “Slowly, Bridget,” he repeated. “Or your biking days are over. Got it?”

  “Yes I have got it,” she replied, sounding totally untrustworthy.

  With her dad in hot pursuit, the little girl took off pedalling as if her life depended on it.

  Charli was the only Décarie who wasn’t in a hurry. After a quiet word with Adam as he passed, she continued her slow stroll until she reached my gate.

  “Hi Lily.” She sounded as apprehensive as she looked. “Can I have a quick word?”

  I wanted to say no. Dealing with Charli was always awkward but after the drama of the day before, there was now an element of embarrassment too.

  She’d made no secret of the fact that she was outraged by my mum’s behaviour, but I resented her input. Her life was perfect, which meant she had no right to pass comment on mine – but that didn’t mean I didn’t owe her an apology.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I told her. “I was rude and you didn’t deserve it.”

  She rattled the low iron gate. “Does that mean I can come in?”

  “Charli, I’ve been living four doors down from you for the past six months,” I reminded her. “You’ve never visited before. Why now?”

  She pushed open the gate and wandered up to the veranda. “It’s not a pity visit if that’s what you’re thinking,” she replied. “I’m having a second crack at winning you over.”

  As much as I fought against doing it, I couldn’t help laughing. “Still working the friendship angle, huh?”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to be friends, Lil?” Her smile was as crafty as she was. “You have a kick-arse swing on your porch, and I want to have a turn.”

  I shuffled across to make room for her. “I should probably warn you, it probably won’t hold both of us.”

  Charli tentatively sat down, and we both looked to the roof to see if the chains were holding. “So far, so good,” she replied.

  I dropped my head to look at her. “What are you really doing here?”

  She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small blue gift bag. “I brought you a present,” she said. “It’s only small, but I want you to have it.”

  As I upended the bag, a pink heart-shaped necklace tumbled into my palm. It might’ve been small, but it also looked precious and expensive.

  “I can’t accept this,” I said, trying to hand it back to her. “It’s too much.”

  “Relax, Lil. It’s not the Crown Jewels,” she replied, refusing to take it. “It’s just a trinket, but it’s special – possibly even magic if you need it to be.”

  Charli had been on the magic wagon since childhood. It was one of the things that made her weird, but it was an intriguing kind of weird that I wished I understood better.

  “How so?”

  “Well, it’s rose quartz,” she explained. “Those who believe in the magic of crystals think it has special powers.” She scuffed her foot on the floor, setting the swing in motion again. “It promotes all the good stuff – sensitivity, empathy, and aids in the acceptance of change. You seem to be making a few big changes in your life. I figured you could use it.”

  I tangled the silver chain around my fingers, dangling the pendant in front of me. “Did you buy this yesterday?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I’ve had it for a while,” she replied. “Adam gave it to me a few months ago, right before I cut ties with my mother for the last time.”

  “You met you
r mum?” The rise in my voice was unavoidable. “When?”

  The mystery of how Charli Blake came to be had been a topic of whispered conversation around town for years. As far as I knew, she’d never known her mother, and it was a shock to hear otherwise.

  “I’ll tell you the whole story if you want to hear it,” she offered. “It’s not pretty, but it’s true.”

  I learned more about Charli in the next ten minutes than I had in the whole twenty-something years that I’d known her. As it turns out, the tough, aloof, untouchable girl with the nasty attitude and sharp tongue wasn’t indestructible.

  She’d suffered an emotional beating at the hands of her long lost mother and then run home to Pipers Cove to recover from it.

  “I tried so hard to make it work.” Her quiet voice was laced with frustration. “But in the end, I had to accept that sometimes it’s best just to let things go. Cutting her out of my life was the only choice I had.”

  “She was really that awful?”

  “A whole bag of nasty, Lily,” she confirmed with an awkward smile. “I hope I never see her again.”

  The sudden push to be friends didn’t seem so odd anymore. Witnessing my mum’s mean rant probably reminded her of all the times she’d dealt with her own drama. Charli didn’t necessarily feel sorry for me; she understood what I was going through, and recognised that making a permanent break was impossibly hard.

  “I’m trying to be stronger when it comes to dealing with Jasmine and my mum.” I dropped the necklace back into the bag and slipped it into my pocket. “But it’s harder than I expected it to be.”

  Charli’s warm smile hit me hard. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, Lil. It’s a process.”

  ***

  The next few hours flew by. The more we talked, the more I realised that I really didn’t know Charli well. Her candidness surprised me, and I tried hard to return the favour. When she asked about my plans for Pawesome Designs, I laid out my entire business plan.

  “It’s sketchy, at best,” I admitted. “But I’m just going to fake it until I make it.”

  “I’m very familiar with that plan,” she replied. “Are you just going to make the clothes to order?”

  I slowly shook my head. “It’s probably going to be a while before I have to sew a stitch.”

  Clearly confused, she asked what I meant.

  I put my feet on the floor, jolting the swing to a stop. “Come inside and I’ll show you.”

  4. A SHOT IN THE DARK

  Charli

  A weird sense of Déjà vu hit me as I followed Lily into the house. I recalled attending a birthday party years ago when her grandparents lived there. I wondered if she remembered it too.

  “Jasmine’s seventh birthday,” she confirmed. “Mum organised that weird clown from Sorell who scared everybody, remember?”

  “Yes,” I replied, laughing. “He did magic tricks.”

  Lily glanced back at me but didn’t slow her walk. “He accidentally set fire to the decorations. That was magic.”

  “I think he was drunk.”

  “Totally wasted,” she agreed, giggling. “Good times.”

  For a quick moment, I wondered how things might’ve been different if we’d all managed to stay as innocent and sweet as we were back then. We’d all changed, and not entirely for the better.

  One thing that hadn’t changed was Grandpa Tate’s house. It was stuck in an eighties time warp, overloaded with mission brown cabinetry and burnt orange tiles, but the place was pristine. Adam would’ve called it a renovator’s delight, and I made a mental note never to let him see it.

  Lily led me through the huge house to one of the back bedrooms. “This is where I keep all of my stock,” she said, making a grab for the door handle. “Don’t be weirded out by it.”

  I tried not to be, but when the door swung open, I came face-to-face with the biggest collection of doggie apparel in the southern hemisphere. I took a few steps inside, trying to keep my expression straight as I took it all in. Lily’s organisational skills were epic. Boxes were stacked upon boxes, and each one was labelled according to size and occasion. “There must be a thousand outfits in here,” I choked.

  “I’ve been making them for ten years, Charli,” she said sheepishly. “Nancy wears some of them, but most have never been worn.”

  We’d passed by Nancy on the way through the living room. The ugly little pooch was fast asleep on the couch with her tongue hanging out, trussed up in a sequined hoodie. After pulling a small tuxedo out of an open box, I realised that must’ve been her casual weekend wear.

  “How on earth are you to going shift this stuff?”

  “Online, hopefully. I have a website.” She shrugged. “It had four hits yesterday, but I haven’t sold anything yet.”

  My eyes drifted back to the boxes. “What made you decide to finally go into business?”

  I couldn’t fathom what had taken her so long. She could’ve been selling her wares years ago.

  Lily folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. It was a casual gesture that didn’t match the worry in her voice. “I needed a nest egg,” she replied. “Working at the salon wasn’t exactly lucrative. It took me years to build up some savings to fall back on.”

  The more she explained her plans, the more I realised that Lily wasn’t going in blindly. Years of planning and thought had gone into her Pawesome Designs venture.

  “I’m going to have to live on my savings until I start generating income,” she told me. “I figure I’ve got about three months to make that happen before I’m broke and begging Jasmine for my job back.”

  For her sake, I desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but a room full of stock and four hits on her website wasn’t going to cut it. I just couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud.

  “You’ll figure it out,” I assured her. “I’ll help you if you want me to.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Charli.”

  “Look, Bridget starts school in a few weeks, Adam’s busy tearing up boats and I have no friends,” I teased. “What else am I going to do?”

  She motioned toward my belly with a nod. “But you’re pregnant.”

  “Sitting around and waiting to lose sight of my feet isn’t a full-time job, Lil,” I replied. “I have plenty of free time on my hands.”

  “Do you really think I can do this?”

  I thought very carefully before speaking. The question hadn’t come from the dizzy Lily Tate I’d known and didn’t love. It came from a girl I barely knew who was taking a massive shot in the dark at fulfilling a lifelong dream. She had to know I admired her for it.

  “Did you meet my father-in-law while he was here?” She shook her head, telling me no. “He’s a hard arse, but one of the smartest people I know. He once told me that nothing worth having comes easy – not love, not success, not respect. We have to work hard for it.” I grabbed the doggie tuxedo out of the box and held it out to her. “This room holds ten years of hard work. By my reckoning, you’re already doing it.”

  ***

  Ryan had been telling me for years that I possessed zero talent when it came to business management, and I was beginning to think he was right. I had no clue how to get Pawesome Designs off the ground, and Lily wasn’t exactly bursting with ideas either.

  “Maybe we should revamp the website,” she finally suggested.

  “Great idea.” I gave her two thumbs up. “How do we do that?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “But I guess logging onto the computer would be a good start.”

  Abandoning the boxes, we headed to the dining room. The huge open space could’ve accommodated a suite as grand as the Décaries’ sixteen seater monstrosity, but Lily’s design ideas were a little less ostentatious.

  A cheap plastic outdoor table and chairs stood in the middle of the room. It was a practical solution for a single girl on a budget, but Lily had taken it to the next level. A blue and white striped beach umbrella was speared through the c
entre of the table.

  “It came with the table,” she explained. “It seemed a shame to waste it.”

  I looked up at the vaulted ceiling, noticing that the umbrella cleared it with at least ten feet to spare. It may well have been the most fabulous thing I’d ever seen, but it wasn’t without its problems. “Lil, didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s bad luck to open an umbrella inside?”

  She sat down at the table and lifted the lid on her laptop. “That’s why I opened it outside and then brought it in,” she replied. “I might be an idiot, but I’m a resourceful idiot.”

  “Touché, Lily Tate. Touché.”

  ***

  I sat on the plastic chair until my butt went numb, and my mind wasn’t faring much better. We tossed around a million ideas for improving the website, but there was only one that excited me – a gallery of professional photos using puppy models to showcase Lily’s designs.

  “We can make a whole production of it,” I told her. “As elaborate as you want it to be.”

  Despite my enthusiasm, she didn’t look convinced. “It sounds expensive,” she said cautiously. “I haven’t budgeted for any of this.”

  Fearing a meltdown was imminent, I quickly elaborated. “It won’t cost you a cent,” I assured her. “I’m a photographer, and Gabi is an artist. I’m sure she could take care of the set design.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course,” I replied, pushing my chair back. “It’ll be fun.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just come up with a theme.” Raising my arms, I stretched out my stiff body. “If you’ve got some spare time tomorrow, we can pitch the idea to Gabi.”

  Lily followed me to the front door. “I would love that,” she replied. “Is there anything else you need?”

  As I got to the door, I turned back to face her. “Dogs,” I said with a smile. “Lots and lots of photogenic, happy dogs.”

  5. ROOKIE MISTAKE

  Lily