Page 51 of Echoes in the Storm
“Aw, Duke. You’re not afraid of a few ankle-biters, are you?”
“Of course not. I’m just … I don’t know many people with kids, so I’m not that good with them.” I was never gifted the chance to see my own.
“You were one once, right?” She gives the remaining batter another stir while continuing to smirk at me.
“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“Never.” She wiggles her eyebrows and returns to cooking the pancakes.
Subject closed.Damn it.
I set the table for us as she finishes the last of the batter, reminding myself that I’m at T-minus approximately five days and counting. Maybe if I tell the therapist that I stepped outside my comfort zone and helped a woman I just met with kids, they’ll go easy on the exercises they give me?Unlikely.Still, letting them know that I volunteered to help at a kindergarten disco can’t be—
Shit.“Is this fundraiser at night?”
“Well, yeah. I said it’s after work.” Cam’s eyes go wide as she dumps the empty batter bowl in the sink. “Oh. I’m sure it’ll be fine, though, Duke. Heaps of lights and plenty of people around to reassure you everything’s okay.” She looks about as convinced as I feel.
“I thought you meant it was a late afternoon thing. I didn’t think it through properly before I offered.”Idiot.
“The dark is a hard limit for you, huh?” She doesn’t ask to criticise; her tone tells me she’s genuinely concerned.
“Can be a pain in the arse, yeah.”
“How do you cope, normally?”
I laugh bitterly as she sets the stack down on the table. “I don’t—clearly.”
“You know what? Don’t worry about it.” Cam takes her seat. “Stay here and kick back. I’m sure it’ll only be a couple of hours, tops. You can pick out a movie for us to watch when I get home or something.”
“If you’re sure?”Quitter.
She sighs, holding my gaze across the table with her fork poised over her plate. “Small steps, remember? I’m thinking a crazy busy kindergarten car park that’s lit up with only a few strings of fairy lights probably won’t be the best idea. You might get a few funny looks if you’re wandering around with your phone out like you’re about to take pictures. You know, some strange guy with no kids of his own there and all.” She laughs it off as a joke, but it’s anything but. It’s my life: the story of a fully-grown man who can’t attend a harmless fundraiser because it’s at night, and it involves kids.
All the reminders of what I lost rolled into one.
Some hero …
Cammie
“Oh, Cammie. I’m so glad you’re here. I had a couple of mums lined up to help me get the tables set out, but one’s stuck in the traffic, and the other has a son who won’t stop vomiting.” The manager of the kindergarten, stands with her arms full of streamers and her eyes full of panic.
“Point me in a direction, Jacinda, and I’ll have them laid out in no time.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
I set my bag down with the boxes of decorations and activity supplies and get to work laying out the trestle tables in the closed off car park. By the time the sun goes down and the parents return with their children, we have six stations set up with various activities for the kiddies to try out to get spot prizes and crafts to take home. I get comfortable at my face-painting station as Jacinda rushes past again, a huge tub of swollen water balloons in her hands.
“Have you got everything you need?”
“I think so.” I do a quick glance over the table, mentally cataloguing the brushes, paints, and accessories.
“If you need anything, flag down one of the girls to get it for you.” Her shoulders drop as her face softens, and I know, I just know, she’s about to do it. “You know, it really is amazing that you still help us out.”
She doesn’t have to say it. The unspoken words hang in the air between us.“Even though your daughter doesn’t come here anymore.”
“I honestly don’t mind.” I offer her a smile, hoping she’ll drop the subject and leave.
To be honest, I think the heavy tub in her hands is probably the reason she chooses to drop the conversation and carry on, but either way, I’m happy she does.