His Greatest Treasure (Greatest Love #4)

Chapter 7

7

AVERY

“I don’t want to go to ballet, Mom,” Nova moans, kicking her feet in the back seat.

“You wanted to go every day for the last two months. If you’ve changed your mind now, I’m sorry to say it’s too late.”

I turn into the parking lot of Illumina and turn the radio down, muting the twelfth consecutive song request from Nova. With school starting this upcoming Monday, I know she’s feeling nervous. It’s why I’ve let her play all of the Nickelback songs she wanted on the way here. An introduction to a new ballet studio and other girls her age is bound to be intimidating, even if she’s never been afraid of social events.

Nova thrives in crowds, but like me, new faces can intimidate her. She just doesn’t show it.

“Fine. But nobody better not pick on me.” She cracks her knuckles and snaps her teeth like an animal. “I watched Kung Fu Panda a lot, right, Mom?”

“Oh, only about a hundred thousand times. I’m sure you’ve picked up quite a few skills from that panda. Let’s just try not to beat up the other ballerinas, okay?”

“We’ll see. ”

“Behave, ?lskling .”

“What?” she asks, blinking innocently.

I blow out a laugh and meet her stare in the rear-view mirror. “Behave, sweetheart . And stop pretending you don’t know your Swedish, or I’ll have to ship you back and have you stay with Uncle Oskar and Aunt Klara.”

She sticks out her bottom lip and scrunches her nose as she thinks about it. “They have cute dogs.”

Oskar and Klara wouldn’t let me live it down if they knew Nova would willingly go back just to spend time with them and their dogs. Friends of my parents, the two of them have been around since I was born. Oskar played on the same team as my dad, but their bond grew deep enough to last long after they both retired.

“You’d leave me for a couple of dogs?” I ask, unbuckling my seat belt.

“Not totally.”

“Hmm.”

“And I miss her food,” she adds.

I twist in my seat, mouth gaping in offense. “Is there something wrong with my food?”

“You don’t know how to make stuvade makaroner like her.”

“I’m sure I could try. I didn’t know I made it so . . . poorly.”

She cocks her head. “It’s a little wet.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay to be a bad cook, Mom.”

With a quick flick of her wrist, she has her seat belt unbuckled and her door open. I yank the keys from the ignition and grab my purse before stumbling out of the car after her.

“You’re not getting away that easily, Nova. Why didn’t you tell me before that you wanted stuvade makaroner ? How long have you been wanting it? I don’t want to keep you from remembering your heritage, and I know we haven’t been there to visit in a while, but?—”

A small hand grabs my wrist as she cuts me off. “I don’t want it that bad. I like the Gifflar and chocolates grandma sends us.”

I know I should believe her, but instead, I feel guilty. With my shoulders tight, I drop a hand to her head and run it over her slicked-back hair, heart heavy in my chest.

“I can tell her to send you some more. Or I can try and make cinnamon buns for you myself instead.”

Her grin is instant, melting some of the tension from my muscles. “Okay!”

“Now, your mormor told us to come to this studio of all the ones in Vancouver. So, promise to keep an open mind?”

She nods in agreement, and I take her hand before we head to the building. My mom wanted us to come to this studio because it belongs to Gracie Bateman. I know about it from all the times we visited Vancouver, which is why I fought her on us attending when she first brought it up.

The studio is meant for low-income families, not for family friends to receive special treatment. But I was promised that Nova’s spot wouldn’t take one from anyone else more deserving of it. It was the only way I agreed to sign her up.

Other than Oliver, I haven’t seen another member of the Bateman family in nearly a decade. Not because of any sort of drama or bad blood but because I was always the odd one out when it came to my parents’ friends and their kids.

It’s nobody’s fault that I feel like that. It was hard to be close to all the childhood friends I should have had when I lived across the world from them. I never had the chance to become best friends with Adalyn Hutton or Tinsley Lowry the way I used to wish I could.

It was hard on me to have to watch everyone grow closer and closer as the years passed through social media and second-hand information from my parents.

We all grew up together . . . except we didn’t. Not really.

Maybe that played a part in why I was so hesitant to take Nova to Illumina. Bringing her into this studio opens a million doors that I don’t know if I’m ready to walk through yet.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I have a choice. Considering that out of every single person in Vancouver, my next-door neighbour had to turn out to be one of those childhood friends. It’s only a matter of time before everyone else learns that I’m no longer in Surrey and instead have come right to the centre of it all, no longer able to hide in plain sight the way I have been since I moved to Canada.

“Mom?” Nova tugs at my hand, and I jerk my head to look down at her. “I said I’ll behave.”

“Thank you, honey.”

We’re in front of the doors, and I blow out a breath when a tall, pastel purple-haired woman pulls one open for us. She smiles at me, and I’m struck stupid for a second at how effortless the act appears, like smiling is her default setting.

Realization hits me a second later when I drop my eyes to the hand she has holding the door open. The tattooed black ring on her left hand is one that I’ve seen a dozen times on her social media. Her entire presence is one that’s hard to forget, but apparently, no matter how many times I stalked her online, I wasn’t prepared to see her in person. Not after ten years.

“You guys head in! I’m just waiting for my husband to park the car. He’s such a perfectionist I’m sure he’s been trying to get as straight as possible,” she says, her voice hitting me right in the gut.

The lack of recognition that appears as she stares at me is just as bad as when I saw it on Oliver’s face.

The backs of my eyes burn, and I jerk my chin before urging Nova inside quickly. A deep ache of homesickness grows as I step inside and get greeted by another sucker punch to the chest.

Gracie Bateman is standing directly in front of me, her platinum hair pin straight and her blue eyes still electric. Tall and lean, she doesn’t look her age in the slightest.

“Avery! Oh my God! Look at you,” she shouts, not caring for the curious people watching. Even in a pair of wedges, she moves quickly through the crowd until we’re close enough she can set her hands on my shoulders .

“Hi, Gray,” I murmur.

Her eyes water as she stares at me for a beat longer before looking down at Nova, a sheen of wonder flashing across them. Bottom lip wobbling, she drops to a crouch in front of her and offers her hands for Nova to take.

“I’m Gracie Bateman, Nova. It’s so, so good to finally meet you. Your mormor has told me so much about you.”

If I wasn’t so in my head, I’d have laughed at how she pronounces the Swedish term. Her heart is so golden that I’d bet she knows how terrible it sounded but doesn’t care about looking silly.

“Hi. You’re one of my mormor’s friends, right?” Nova asks, offering her hand for a shake.

Gracie giggles at her and takes her hand in a soft shake. “Yes I am. And I’ve known your mom for a very long time.”

“That’s cool. I’ve known her longer.” She puffs her chest out.

“Is that so? Well, I guess that makes you pretty lucky.”

“It does.”

Gracie glances up at me before standing and flashing me a wobbly smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’ve grown up so beautifully, Avery.”

My appreciation is sincere enough to have my eyes watering now. “Thank you. And you don’t look like you’ve aged at all.”

“Oh, please. Where did you get your sweetness from? Because I know it wasn’t from your mother. She told me just last week that my hair looked dehydrated like silver streamers.”

“She’s ever the sweet talker,” I muse. “I had to have gotten it from my dad.”

A voice comes from behind me, accompanied by the clip of heels on the floor. “No way you’re doing introductions without me, Auntie! You’re absolutely no fun.”

“You snooze, you lose, Addie,” Gracie says with a smirk.

Nova turns beside me, her features calm. “There’s a lot of people here. When did you make so many friends, Mom? ”

Adalyn Hutton stops in her tracks a few feet from us, and one glance at her shows that she’s stricken by my daughter’s voice.

“Yeah, I guess I do, sweetheart. Do you want to meet them?” I ask.

She jerks a shoulder nonchalantly. “Sure.”

“Alright,” I say.

Adalyn continues toward us after getting permission. The man at her side takes me an embarrassing amount of time to recognize. Cooper White, her husband, is the son of another of my parents’ friends but is the oldest of everyone, myself included.

Tall and built in a slimmer way than Oliver is, he’s not as intimidating as I expected. There’s something warm about his features despite their sharpness. Ten years older than his wife, he carries himself with a maturity that I can’t help but resonate with. Addie has always been the liveliest person at the party, and even now, watching as she almost skips over to us, Cooper keeps a steady, calm hand on her back.

I never saw their marriage coming, but watching their relationship on social media has made it hard to believe that they’re not sickeningly in love with each other.

Addie’s purple curls bounce when she stops in front of us and surprises me by pulling me into her arms. I expected a hug from her aunt, but getting one from her . . . it has the burn returning to my eyes.

“I missed you, Avery. It’s been so damn long since I’ve seen you. I tried to text and message the last few years, but you never responded,” she whispers while we’re hugging.

I swallow, blinking away tears. “I’m sorry. It’s been a busy few years. I didn’t even think you’d recognize me after all this time.”

She shakes her head on my shoulder. “Don’t apologize. Of course I did. I just didn’t want to scare you by swarming you out there. I’ve kept up with you on social media, even if you don’t post, like, ever , so I’ve had a good idea of what you looked like now. We’ll have lots of time to talk soon. I’m just glad you’re here. ”

Relief fills me from bottom to top. The last time I saw her, she was twelve . . . yet she still recognized me upon first glance.

Unlike her dickish cousin.

“So am I.”

Stepping back, I take another look at her and how grown-up she’s become before sliding my eyes to Cooper. He’s two years older than me and has matured more than I expected. His body has filled out, age strengthening his features. It’s hard to imagine him as the kid I remember. We were never that close growing up, if you don’t count weekly how-are-you texts, but he’s a nice guy. A really, really nice guy and a good friend.

“You look old,” I tell him, keeping my tone light.

He smiles, brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Addie tells me that all the time. It’s nice to see you again, Avery.”

“You too.” I mean it more than I thought I would. Resting my hand on Nova’s shoulder, I say, “This is my daughter, Nova. Nova, this is Adalyn and Cooper.”

Addie beams, her model features every inch as beautiful as they look online and on magazine covers. “Hi, pretty girl.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Nova,” Cooper says.

Nova blushes, her cheeks and neck flushing a deep red. “Hi.”

“You’re here for ballet, right? I promise that Aunt Gray only hires the best of the best. You’ll be in fantastic hands here,” Adalyn tells her.

Gracie nods. “You have my word. We’ll get you all set up today, and then next week, you can come and start dancing.”

“Okay. So, I get my tutu today?” Nova asks.

“Yep. Your tutu, bodysuit, and pointe shoes. I have plenty of helpers here today, but I’d like to be the one to get you set up if that’s okay?”

Her words have me searching the space for Oliver. It’s been a week since he stormed into my house and saved me from lighting my house on fire with my curling iron, but luckily, he’s been gone during the days, so I haven’t seen him since. I’m sure he’s just as happy about that as I am .

When I don’t find him lurking around the studio like a pest, I relax. Even as the text he sent me two days ago flutters into my consciousness.

Oliver: Your lawn needs to be mowed.

Asshole. He didn’t offer to mow it either. As if I would have accepted his help.

“Sure. You can help me,” Nova says.

She offers Gracie her hand and looks up at me, waiting for permission to go with her. I give it easily, trusting Gracie without a doubt.

The two of them leave, and then Addie is shifting. She stares at me with a sense of hope so thick it could suffocate me if I let it.

“Can we find a seat and talk? Catch up? I know it’s been a long time, but I’d love to get to know who you are now, if you’re up for it.”

She doesn’t know it, but the begging isn’t necessary. I’d have tried to sit down with her even if she hadn’t cared about me being here.