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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
REN
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2005
THE BIRTHDAY LUNCH cost me thirty-four dollars and ninety-one cents.
But it was worth a million, thanks to Della’s happy squeals when the waitress brought out three iced-pink cupcakes all squished together with fifteen candles stabbed into them.
The cheery flames flickered all over Della’s cute face as she stared, hypnotized.
Her sheer amazement made me forget we sat in public, and I gri
It was the only time I dropped my guard. The entire meal, I’d watched, just like I did in the forest and at the farm, suspecting everything and everyone, making sure nothing could take me by surprise and hurt Della.
A little while ago, a family walked in with a girl about my age. She caught my eye and flipped her long black hair over her shoulder in a way that made my stomach clench. Not being around people meant I didn’t have the worries of another version of my mother trying to sell me or another Mclary trying to buy me, but it also meant I didn’t meet girls like her.
Like the dark-haired one who never took her gaze off me the entire time I sat steadfast beside Della.
She u
I had no control over the hardening and tight discomfort in my shorts.
I hated that I had to push Della away with no explanation apart from a strict grunt not to come anywhere near my lap.
I missed simplicity when touching Della didn’t make me feel dirty or wrong. When a hug was just a hug and not a moral struggle full of fear in case things happened outside of my control.
Glowering at the dark-haired girl, I did my best to ignore her. She made me feel as if I betrayed Della in some way, and nobody, under any circumstances, would make me break any promises I’d made to my blonde-haired best friend beside me.
I didn’t know how long it took us to eat, but it had been longer than I wanted. Not through fault of the staff or food but because Della and I weren’t used to being served. We flinched when our main course arrived. We jolted when Cokes and milkshakes appeared. And we froze in a mixture of disbelief and awe as the first mouthful delivered an explosion of different flavours instead of just one.
The waitress had been true to her word and went out of her way to make Della happy.
She brought placemats for her to colour in with bright rainbow crayons.
She laughed as Della tasted her first salty fry and promptly stuffed a fistful in her face.
And she kept her distance so I didn’t feel trapped but remained attentive, never letting us run out of sauces or drinks.
This outing was for Della, but as I took my first bite of beef and cheese wrapped up in a buttery bun, I’d groaned with sheer pleasure.
I
Pleasure I was allowed to show and share with my tiny ribbon beside me.
And now, with bellies so full they hurt, Della crawled transfixed over the table to reach the glowing candles.
I grabbed her around the middle, holding her back from setting herself on fire.
The waitress beamed, waiting…for something.
When Della continued to gawk at the candles and I grew impatient with her squirming to get closer, the waitress said, “So have you made a wish? You need to make a wish, sweetie, and then blow out the candles.”
Della scrunched up her face. “A wish? What’s that?”
Even with the catalogue of words she asked me to give her on a daily basis and the TV, she still lacked so many. I hadn’t thought to teach her what a wish was because to me, it was the constant urge to leave humans behind and hide in untouched wilderness.
And when I still belonged to Mclary, a wish was a desire for the long days, starving nights, and harsh punishments to stop.
A wish was hope, and hope killed you faster than anything. A wish was ru
The waitress gave me a strange look before answering. “A wish is asking for something you want so badly but don’t know how you’ll get it. It’s a request for something you don’t think will come true but believe in with all your heart anyway.”
I gritted my teeth as Della nodded solemnly. “Oh.” Her intelligent blue eyes met mine, studying me as if forming a wish full of complications and tough requests. “I wish for Ren to always be mine. To take me everywhere. And to give me more birthdays.” Her white teeth flashed as she beamed at the waitress. “Do you make my wish come true now?”
“No, sweetie.” The waitress giggled. “Now you blow out the candles, and it will come true by the power of pink icing and vanilla sponge!”
Della leaned closer and spat all over the cupcakes, blowing raspberries instead of air.
Not one stopped flickering with its mocking fire. I swallowed down my laughter as her joy deflated, and she looked at me forlorn. “Does that mean my wish won’t come true, Ren?”
Ugh, this was what I didn’t want.
Della lived in reality.
She knew the cost of hunting because she helped me kill what we ate. She knew the cost of shelter because she helped maintain the house we’d borrowed. But now she knew the cost of wishing for fantasies and the heartache when they didn’t come true.
She didn’t need a stupid wish to make her requests become real. I had no intention of ever leaving her again—I’d learned that lesson years ago. The next time we were apart, it would be because of her. She would leave me when she was ready. I would be the one heartbroken when she woke up one day and decided she needed more than what I could offer.
For now, though, she was still mine, and I wouldn’t let her think for a moment she couldn’t have everything she ever wanted.
Yanking her onto my lap—now that I was back in control of my thoughts and reactions—I dragged the cupcakes closer. “It only means the wish comes true faster and stronger.” Giving her a smile, I said, “If we blow them out together, it will mean we’re never apart. Want to do that?”
“Yes!” She bounced on my thighs. “Yes, please.”
My chest ached that even in the middle of something as new as blowing out candles for the first time, she remembered her ma
“Ready?” I puffed out my cheeks. “One, two, three…”
We blew out every candle.
We helped ourselves to our very first taste of sugar that didn’t come from fruit and left the diner thirty-four dollars and ninety-one cents poorer.
Our crazy sugar high kept us chuckling and racing around the farm’s fields, ca
* * * * *
Della watched me clean my teeth with a look in her eyes I hadn’t seen before.
Scrubbing away the remnants of our overindulgence today, I spat mint into the sink and rinsed my mouth. She’d already cleaned hers thanks to the second brush I’d stolen her a few months ago.
Drying my hands on my shorts, I brushed past her to enter the corridor and head to our bedroom. She padded after me in my t-shirt without the baling twine belt—her version of pyjamas—still silent and staring at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.