“Lane,” my father sorrowfully said, “this is Kale’s son.”
My eyes grew blurry, but when I looked at the gravestone once more, I could make out a single sentence that completely destroyed me: “In loving memory of Kaden Hunt.”
CHAPTER SIX
Thirteen years old (thirteen years ago)
Where is Kale?” my Uncle Harry asked as I pulled on my brand-new leather ankle boots that my mum bought me for fifty per cent off in River Island. They were the cutest boots I had ever seen and possibly were the most fashionable, trendy item of clothing that I owned.
“Lane,” my uncle chuckled, “are you listening to me?”
I looked up when I got both of my boots zipped up, and for a moment I just stared at my uncle. Aside from Kale, he was definitely my favourite person. He was, quite literally, the coolest uncle I could have ever been blessed with. He was like a best friend to me – no, scratch that, he was a best friend to me. We hung out all the time and did a bunch of stuff together. He brought me fishing – which I didn’t like; the quiet time with him was the only reason I went along – and bowling and a million other places that don’t seem fun, but were brilliant because my uncle was the one sharing the experience with me.
My Uncle Harry was my mother’s twin; he was older than her by five minutes, a fact that he liked to remind her about often. And the reason I was so close to him was because they were so close. They saw each other every single day, and I mean that literally. My father had even become close to my uncle; it got to the point where they hung out all the time too. He lived only five minutes away from our house, so I was round at his place just as much as he was around at ours.
I made sure I went round to him every day, even if it was just to say hello, because I didn’t want him to be alone. He was only forty-one years old, but had to endure one of the hardest things a man would ever have to do. Last year he had to bury his wife, my Aunt Teresa. She had breast cancer and didn’t even get a chance to fight it because she found out when it was too late.
I didn’t like to think about her, because it made me miss her. We hadn’t been very close because she was only in my life for a few short years before she died, and I was too young then to make time for her, but I knew my Uncle Harry loved her very much, and that saddened me because I knew he felt lost without her.
I personally thought my Uncle Harry was the bravest man to ever walk the earth because I loved Kale with all of my heart, and I wasn’t even married to him. If he died, I think I would die too because I would be too sad to live without him. That’s how I knew I could never be as great as my uncle – because I could never be as strong as he was. It took a lot of strength to live on without someone you loved as much as he loved my Aunt Teresa. It made me idolise him.
“Lane,” his voice prompted.
I blinked. “Sorry, what?”
My uncle laughed and shook his head. “Where. Is. Kale?”
I rolled my eyes. “Where do you think he is?”
My uncle was silent for only a moment before he said, “With your brothers.”
I wish.
I huffed. “He is with Drew. He is always with her, he never spends time with me or my brothers anymore.”
That was a lie; he still hung out with my brothers. It was me who was getting the elbow recently. I just thought saying that my brothers didn’t receive any of his time either made me sound a little less pathetic.
My uncle’s low rumbling chuckle irked me. I turned to face him and folded my arms across my chest. “It’s not funny, Uncle Harry.”
He smiled lovingly at me. “I’m not laughing at your distress, sweetheart, I’m laughing at your attitude. You remind me of your mother when we were your age.”
I do?
I beamed. “She was also fabulous with brains to burn?”
My uncle laughed loudly, and it brought a smile to my face. I loved his laugh.
“She liked to think so,” he said, shaking his head good-naturedly.
I felt my smile fall as I sighed. “I’m sorry for being snarky. I’m just . . . annoyed.”
My uncle kept his focus on me. “Why?” he quizzed.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
The corners of my uncle’s eyes creased slightly as he said, “Yeah, darling, you do.”
I gnawed on my lower lip, looked at my uncle and then to my feet. I felt my stomach churn as the realisation of what I was about to say hit me.
“I’m jealous,” I admitted, still looking down. “I like Kale. I like him as more than a friend, and I hate it because it means I’m always going to be stuck next to him watching him be with older, prettier girls. It sucks, Uncle Harry. It sucks arse.”
I felt heat stain my cheeks when silence fell between us.
“How long have you been feeling like this?” he questioned after a moment.
I blew out a relieved breath that he didn’t laugh at me.
I swallowed. “Since I was around ten, but it’s getting worse now ’cause I keep getting upset about it, whereas when I was younger, I didn’t give it much thought when he was hanging around with other girls.”
I looked up when my uncle snorted. “It’s your hormones, kid,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve hit puberty. Shit goes downhill from here.”
I was a little embarrassed to be talking about hormones and puberty with my uncle, but I laughed when he finished speaking, because his expression was dead serious.
He smiled at me. “Why don’t you talk to your mum about this?”
Is he joking? I was horrified at the suggestion.
“I couldn’t,” I stated. “She loves Kale like he is her own. She’d probably disown me.”
My uncle’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”
“No,” I replied, “I think it’s perfectly accurate.”
My uncle’s eyes twinkled as he smiled. “Your vocabulary is growing.”
I pushed strands of hair that fell into my eyes back from my face. “I read a lot of books,” I said, shrugging. “Some that aren’t for kids either.”
My uncle cocked an eyebrow. “Romance novels?”
I nodded. “Young adult stuff – nothing explicit or anything.”
Nothing too explicit anyway.
“I’ve no doubt those kind of novels make you more upset about Kale,” my uncle said.
I frowned. “Not exactly. Well, they make me want a boyfriend more. I like reading about people’s happily-ever-afters. It seems like it would be nice for someone to love me.”
“I love you,” my uncle quickly stated.
I rolled my eyes. “I mean a boyfriend type of love. Family love is a different kind.”
“Family love is everything,” he specified. “Once you have the love of your family, you can do anything.”
I snorted. “Okay, Oprah.”
“Cheeky mare,” he tittered. “All jokes aside, are you okay? We can skip seeing The X-Men film if you want to.”
“Not a chance. I am dying to see that film.”
My uncle stared me down. “Are you sure? Because if you aren’t up for it, we can do something else?”
I smiled at his concern. “I’ll be okay. I just get like this whenever he blows me off. I guess it’s just something I’ll have to get used to.”
My uncle scratched his neck. “Or you could just, I don’t know, tell Kale you like him and—”
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” I cut my uncle off with a dramatic screech. “Kale can’t ever know that I like him. It would be the end of my life!”
“Darling,” my uncle said, his lip twitching.
“No!” I stated, and wagged my finger at him. “You promise me right now that anything I ever tell you about Kale stays just between us. Just between us.”
“Lane—”
“Promise, Uncle Harry.”
My uncle laughed so hard he had to rub tears from his eyes. “You’re exactly like your mother,” he cackled. “So demanding.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “That doesn’t sound like a promise to me.”
My uncle had a bright smile on his face as he shook his head at me and said, “I promise, I’ll keep all things Kale-related strictly between the two of us.”
I eyed my uncle, then stuck out my right hand, with my pinkie finger erect. “Make the unbreakable vow,” I said, my eyes narrowed.
My uncle laughed again. “I knew I’d regret buying you all those Harry Potter books.”
Say what? I inwardly balked. That was possibly the best decision he had ever made; I loved those books.
“Pinkie-swear,” I pressed. “It’s my version of the unbreakable vow.”
My uncle gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, then lifted his hand and hooked his pinkie finger around mine. “I, Harry Larson, pinkie-swear to you, Lane Edwards, on my honour, to never share any chats or spats about Kale Hunt to Kale or to any other living, breathing human.”
I overlooked his obvious amusement and focused on his words. “Good,” I said, nodding. “Now I don’t have to kill you.”
My uncle’s lip quirked. “A girl protecting her heart from possible love – what could conceivably go wrong?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “Absolutely nothing can go wrong; I’ve got it all figured out.”
“Are you sure about that?” my uncle questioned, scepticism laced throughout his tone. “Keeping feelings like the ones you have all bottled up will only hurt in the long run.”
I waved my uncle’s concerns off; I knew that telling Kale I liked him would be what would hurt because I was aware he didn’t like me back, not in that way. Based on that knowledge, I was certain my choice to keep him in the dark when it came to my feelings for him was the best decision. It was part of my love-Kale-from-a-distance plan.
“Trust me,” I said to my uncle. “My plan is foolproof.”