Chapter Twenty-Three

Depositing a bottle of lemonade on Tam’s countertop, Aiden leveled her with a look that said he meant business.

“Who would I need to talk to in this town about putting an event together?” he asked, ignoring the raised brow served to him.

“Depends what kind of event.” Tam refused to scan the lemonade, instead pushing it back for him to take. “Something to do with the beach, Dot’s your woman. If you need jumping castles, Kyle’s the one to call. If—”

“A fundraiser,” Aiden said before Tam could delve into her long list of contacts. Aiden hadn’t actually thought about any of the specifics of this fundraiser. Just that it was happening, and if he didn’t do something, it was going to plague his mind forever.

Tam regarded him oddly. “Thought you were flying out in a few days?”

“Postponed the flights this morning,” replied Aiden, choosing not to linger too long on that fact. It had been a long-winded battle on the phone to the two separate airlines, but he reigned triumphant and rebooked the flights three weeks down the line.

And then left a cowardly voicemail for his mam telling her that he’d be back later than expected and to call Kat with any issues. That was the most difficult call to make, even if she wasn’t on the other end. Aiden wasn’t shirking his responsibilities—he was just postponing them. Kat went on a monthlong retreat to Paris last year, and it was fine when she did it.

Yeah. It was fine. Everything was fine.

Point being, he had more than enough time to put something together. Hopefully.

“Go you,” Tam appraised with a slow nod, leaning forward on her elbows. “Have you talked to Finn about this?”

It wasn’t difficult to guess how she knew this was about Finn. Both because Tam came across as the kind of person that could see through a steel trap, and because there was little else that it could be.

Aiden shook his head. “He has a lot to worry about already. I’m hoping I can just get everything organized and then present it to him, neatly wrapped.”

Another one of those studying looks from Tam. “Chances are he’ll say no if you ask.”

“That, too.”

Tam smiled. That same smile that told Aiden that he’d done something she just approved of. “All right, Aiden. I’ll bite. Just because I like you.”

“Just because?” His lip quivered, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

“And maybe I want someone to do something good for FiFi,” she said. “Fuck knows those Schultz boys need it.”

Settled in his decision with Tam’s firm seal of approval, Aiden asked her everything he needed to know before he started to string together an actionable plan. Things like if she thought the interest would be better in Mooloolaba or in Canlaroy, what people like to do in the area, and anyone she thought should come on board.

With that in mind, Tam offered Aiden the break room while she served the lunchtime rush of six people. Armed with a notepad, a pen, and a slice of honeycomb cake, Aiden kicked his brain into gear and got to work. It wasn’t as though this was his first rodeo with fundraising. Maybe not on this scale, and absolutely in a different country. But the concept was still the same. Decide what would draw people in, the best way to gain donations—a series of events, or one big day dedicated to it?—and advertise.

Huh. Maybe his degree did come in handy. Or just his brief experience advertising charity drives on behalf of the athletics team in college. It was up for debate, and Aiden decidedly didn’t have the brainpower to get into the use of his university degree at that moment. Not when he was juggling the need for a jumping castle and how feasible that would be on a beach.

When Aiden emerged, pages tucked under his arm and hair standing on its end from absentminded tugging, Tam called over to him. “You should talk to Marlee.”

“You think?” he asked, drawing closer as Tam rang up a customer. “Is this her kind of thing?”

“Everything’s Marlee’s thing. She’s a right nosy one and a—”

Tam leveled the customer with a stern look. “Joe, be nice.”

“—strong character,” concluded the man, sheepishly scratching the back of thinning salt-and-pepper hair. “You the bloke staying at the Schultz house?”

“That’s me,” Aiden said with a small wave of his free hand.

“Tam was telling me about what you’re planning to do for those boys,” Joe said, hands braced on his hips. Aiden threw a panicked look toward Tam, who only shrugged.

“Have to get the word out somehow.”

“Hard to get the word out if I don’t have a plan yet,” Aiden groused.

“What you wanna do…” Joe threw a tanned, freckled arm around Aiden’s shoulders, drawing him close. Aiden could smell the tobacco on his tongue. “…is get a megaphone.”

“Not this again.” Tam groaned, eyes rolled to the ceiling. “No one wants to rent your megaphone.”

“Chris Keller used it in the last election.”

“And he lost.”

“I don’t get what you’re tryna insinuate here.”

Aiden cut in with a polite smile, still trapped under Joe’s arm. “I’ll keep it in mind, Joe. Thanks.”

“Any time,” Joe replied, placated for the moment. “Anything for those boys. Especially the one with the ankle biter. Sweet kid. Mate loves her.”

Aiden squinted. “Mate?”

“His demon dog,” Tam said.

“Mate has standards,” said Joe, grinning wider when Tam flipped him off, a good rapport clear between the two. “I’ll give you a ride down to Marlee’s.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Aiden said, but he was already being tugged toward the door by the older man’s surprising strength.

“Joe’s harmless,” Tam said as he walked farther out the door. “Won’t bite. Can’t say the same about Mate.”

Even if Aiden was mostly sure that Tam was messing with him, he still watched Joe’s truck with a healthy measure of wariness.

“Don’t pay any mind to her,” Joe said with a hearty laugh, moving to the driver’s side. As the truck unlocked, a head popped up in the passenger side, and Aiden jolted back.

“That’s Mate?” he said, peering closer.

“That’s my Mate,” said Joe, scratching the dachshund beneath the chin. “Hop on in. He’ll sit in my lap.”

Settled by the fact that the infamous Mate was a tiny dog with a waggy tail, Aiden settled. Right up until he approached the car and Mate’s relaxed exterior turned to erratic barking. His nose was inches from Aiden’s face. All Aiden could see was Mate’s sharp teeth glistening with spit.

“Harmless,” Joe said as Mate tried his best to escape from his grasp.

“You sure I should get in?” Aiden asked hesitantly. “He doesn’t seem to like me.”

“Mate doesn’t like anyone. Don’t take it personally.”

Joe didn’t take no for an answer, and soon they were rumbling down the road while Mate growled protectively from the man’s lap. Aiden didn’t dare move a muscle, not even to brace himself against the doorway as Joe swerved around corners, rounding the garage and speeding past Millie’s school.

“Have you lived here long?” Aiden asked, keeping his eyes away from Mate’s steady death glare.

“All my life,” said Joe, fingers tapping against the wheel.

“Is that how you know Marlee?”

“Marlee and I go way back.” Joe drawled the last word, dissolving into a rough chuckle like he was enjoying a private joke. “She’s a helluva woman. Nothing goes on in this town without her knowing.”

“I got that impression.”

“Now about this megaphone…”

By the time they drew up outside Marlee’s small bungalow, nerves started to settle with Aiden. Flashes of his previous conversation with Marlee, her stark words of warning. Oh God, would she even want to help him?

“I’ll head on in with you,” Joe said, concluding his pitch on the megaphone as Mate continued to snarl. “Gotta give my regards.”

Aiden bit his tongue—his only impression of Marlee’s friendship with this man was that it was rocky. But he also wasn’t in a position to dissuade the man from coming with him, so he kept his mouth firmly shut.

Mate snug in Joe’s arms, Aiden could feel those little eyes intent on him while they walked up to the bungalow.

Rapping his knuckles against the front door, Joe cleared his throat and bellowed, “Marlee, got a blow-in here to see you.”

Silence met them, and Aiden hedged a look toward his unlikely companion.

“Old age,” Joe tutted, raising his fist again. “Hearing’s gone.”

“Nothing’s wrong with my hearing.”

Aiden, for the second time in the last hour, almost jumped out of his skin, this time at the sight of Marlee standing in the now-open doorway.

“I heard you the moment you pulled up,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. “Would’ve kept the door closed if it weren’t for other company.”

“Hi,” Aiden said with a wave. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“It’s never a bad time for guests,” Marlee said, stepping aside to welcome him into her home.

“Kind of you, Marls. That—”

“Not you, Joe.” Marlee stood right back in the doorway, blocking the other man’s entry with a pleasant smile. “You wanna visit, you come down on your own back. I’m sure Aiden and I have plenty to talk about.”

Behind Marlee was a narrow hallway decorated with a vast array of picture frames. There were photos of Marlee through various stages of her life with a cohort of people so large that Aiden couldn’t imagine remembering all their names. But out of all the photos, one stood out to him. Right up high by the ceiling, far enough that he had to squint, was the unmistakable image of Tam’s Treats. By the looks of it, opening day. Adie stood there, proud as punch, with her arm looped around a heavily pregnant Tam. To the other side stood Finn, Ryan, and a baby held in the arms of a blond woman. And then, smack-dab in the middle, was Marlee.

The door closed, the bang setting off Mate from the truck.

“I take it you’re not Joe’s biggest fan?” Aiden asked, eyes still set on the picture.

“Nah, Joe’s fine,” Marlee replied. “I’m just waiting for the day he stops making a nuisance of himself and actually asks me on a date.”

“Do you take sugar?” asked Marlee, setting down two mugs of tea in front of Aiden. They sat at the back of the bungalow on a swing seat. Marlee’s garden stretched wide, a space that was both well maintained and home to whatever naturally bloomed there. Aiden spotted a set of gardening tools, and not too far away was a child’s version.

“No thank you,” Aiden replied, hesitantly taking a sip before his eyes fluttered closed. Finally, a decent cup of tea.

“As happy as I am to have a visitor,” Marlee said, taking her place beside him, “I have to ask what brought you up this way.”

“Tam said I should come see you,” he said, hands cradling the cup. “About a fundraiser for Finn and Ryan’s boat.”

“And here I thought it was about our conversation,” Marlee said with a small, knowing smile. “I trust you and Finn sorted that out?”

Aiden’s throat tightened.

“Um, yeah.” Why did Aiden sound so false? They had sorted it. They’ve communicated. They were adults who were upfront about their thoughts and feelings; this wasn’t secondary school or college. They didn’t do the dancing around of will they, won’t they. They knew where they stood.

“You don’t sound certain.”

“I am,” Aiden replied, more abrupt than the topic called for. “Certain. I mean. We’re grown adults who are perfectly good at communicating.”

Marlee didn’t look convinced, raising the tea to her lips with silence echoing between them. Aiden’s discomfort must have been enough to give him a pass, as she continued on.

“But yes. The boat, that old thing,” Marlee scoffed after her sip. “Miracle it’s still afloat.”

“Well that’s the problem.” Aiden paused, unsure how much he should say about a conversation he technically wasn’t supposed to have heard. But, he reasoned, Tam had made him privy to the information in the first place, and he could go off of that. “I haven’t known Finn a long time—”

Three weeks. How had it only been three weeks?

“—but I know how much that boat means to him. And I’d hate to sit idle, knowing that I could do something to help while I’m here.”

“Have you told Finn about this?” Marlee asked, a tilt to her head.

Ducking his gaze, Aiden said, “Not yet. I want to get everything in place, and then lay it on him when he doesn’t have to do anything.”

She leaned back in the chair, swaying it slightly. He could imagine sitting out here in the evenings, watching the sunset and the breeze fluttering through the leaves engulfing the garden. “Probably the best. Stubborn man wouldn’t ask for help even if he was halfway to death.”

“I get that impression.”

“He always was stubborn, even when he was tiny,” Marlee said, a faraway expression crossing over her eyes. “I was close to their parents, changed many a nappy in my time.”

Slowly, Aiden realized why Tam sent him Marlee’s way. He’d gotten a glimpse of how close Marlee was to Finn at the dinner, so he knew that she cared deeply for him. But knowing that she’d been there since day one… The only person that likely knew Finn better was Ryan.

“I saw the picture in your hallway,” he said softly. “Outside Tam’s Treats.”

Lips pursed fondly at the memory, she took a breath. “The grand opening. We’re a small community, but we make an effort. Adie insisted I be the guest of honor.”

“Did you have to cut a ribbon?” asked Aiden with a cheeky grin.

“Even better. I popped the cork on the champagne.” Marlee paused, glancing down at her hands. “We take care of one another here. Even when people might not know they need help.”

Aiden swallowed, but it wasn’t with tea. Marlee’s words carried a weight to them, painting an even clearer image of what they’d gone through together.

“He doesn’t talk about his parents a lot,” he said quietly. “I can only imagine…”

“It was a shock to everyone.” Marlee looked to her left. There was a photograph of a man and woman throwing up peace signs to the camera with an all-too-familiar boat in the background. “I did all I could, but I’m sure you know by now that Finn isn’t easy to help.”

Aiden braced his hands on his knees. “Not the easiest, no.”

“Gets offended if someone even thinks he needs help,” Marlee said with a pointed look. “So this is a pretty ballsy move.”

“I… Yeah. But this is too important to be scared away by that.” Aiden lifted his gaze to meet Marlee’s eyes. Instead of the protective judgment he saw there before, he was met with warmth. Aiden, for the first time since arriving, settled. “Obviously this would be good for the boys and their business. But for Millie…so she can have something of her past. Of her grandparents.”

Aiden didn’t know Marlee well enough to read what that look meant, what thoughts could possibly be dancing behind her eyes. But when Marlee placed her hand atop Aiden’s, warm and firm, he knew he was being held to a promise here.

“That would be wonderful.” Marlee pulled back with a wink. “If you can pull this off.”

A breathy laugh bubbled to the surface, and Aiden knew that he had someone in the trenches with him. “Pending that.”

“So what do you need? Do you want me to cut a ribbon?”

Joining Marlee in her teasing grin, Aiden replied, “I think the champagne should make a resurgence.”