by Annie Dyer
“Whatever.” I sunk down into my sofa and eyed the pile of gifts I’d acquired. There was a retro gaming system from Callum that I was itching to get set up, a whisky tasting set from Max and a book about seventeenth century poetry from Ava – something I’d become interested in for a specific reason and it had grown. There was tons of other bits too, enough to make me feel like a spoilt child again. “It’s been a good Christmas day.”
“It has.” Payton glared at me. ‘Do you want me to get you another mince pie? You keep eyeing Max eating that and it’s annoying me.”
Max shook his head. “He’s capable of doing it himself.”
“If I move, I’ll explode. Or you’ll need a crane to lift me from the floor.”
I was in luck; Maven and Immy entered, both wearing pyjamas, which seemed like an extraordinarily good idea given the room in them for stomach expansion.
Maven looked better than she had done since I’d arrived. She’d apparently broken up with her fiancé after catching him with another woman. Her refusal to get over it had meant he’d ended her contract being the director in residence of an off-Broadway theatre in New York – he was the artistic director there. She was currently in the middle of both hating him and missing him.
I’d been there and it wasn’t a place I’d ever want to revisit.
“Mave, could you pass me a mince pie, please?” I gave her my most charming smile that I usually reserved for old ladies.
She frowned at me. “This won’t be any good for your abs.”
“My abs don’t care.” I pointed at Payton. “See, men get judged too.”
Payton shook her head. “Give him two mince pies. And could I have one as well, please?”
The door opened again, and this time Owen, Vic, Jackson and Vanessa came in, Jackson carrying the video baby monitor.
“Adult time.” Jackson sat down on the floor and looked like he’d gone through six hours of cross fit.
“Seph’s here. He doesn’t classify as an adult yet.” Maxwell had immediately gone to Victoria, which he would’ve done anyway.
I groaned, partly because the first bit of mince pie had caused my stomach to protest that I was trying to force yet more food into it, but also because we’d never moved on from me being a kid.
“At what point will you see me as an adult, Maxwell?”
He sat down next to me and pulled Victoria onto his knee. “When you’ve had a long term relationship with a woman. Not a girl like your ex. She didn’t count.”
“She wasn’t a human, let alone a woman.” Payton’s muttering was actually quite loud.
“This was the girl you were with at university?” Maven had curled up in front of the fire, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands that I suspected was probably spiked with some of Mum’s Irish cream.
“Yep.” I really didn’t want to talk about her.
Christmas day hadn’t been a fun time on a couple of occasions. Cassie had come back with me for Christmas in our third year of university, only because her parents were away in Australia for the holiday and she had nowhere else to be. We hadn’t been getting on, and had only kind of gotten back together as the semester ended. I’d hoped she would’ve gone to her friend’s house instead, as I was pretty sure we were going to fall out. While we hadn’t been seeing each other – on the proverbial break – I’d made what I knew were probably poor choices and that at some point she was going to find out.
She did.
On Christmas morning.
While she was going through my phone when I was in the shower.
Luckily, it was a year when Max and Jackson had been in New York with Ava, and Claire had escaped for some Winter sun, probably worrying that Killian was going to turn up for kisses under the mistletoe, so it was just me, Callum and Payton there to witness the very dramatic fall out.
With a few declarations of undying love and a promise of a weekend away somewhere romantic, and we managed to get through Christmas dinner without anyone’s balls being boiled – mine by my mother for disrupting what was her favourite day.
“You’ll meet someone who’s right for you one day.” Payton patted my back. “When they’ve developed that computer program.”
“Thanks.” I was used to this and I knew it was in jest. I’d had enough serious conversations with my twin about being the only one who was single and the pressure I felt from that.
She’d reminded me of how she and Owen had met. She’d been completely anti-relationship, not interested in being with anyone. When they’d met, she’d kept him at arm’s length, in the friend-zone, until he’d managed to wangle himself into more than her bed.
When I’d talked to Owen, giving him the usual ‘don’t you dare hurt my sister’ shit, I’d also asked him why her? Payton was not the easiest of my siblings and I kind of worried at the time that she might just chew him up and spit him out. He’d responded simply, when you know, you know.
Now they were having a baby together.
“I’m thoroughly on the stay single forever team,” Maven stared at her mug.
Definitely spiked.
“Single doesn’t mean celibate, though, does it?” Imogen elbowed her hard.
Immy was the cousin I knew least well. She’d spent more time at the family home in New York when her brother and sisters were over in England, and had been the only one go to school in the States too. I’d never really known why and had just assumed it had something to do with her health. She was the youngest and the only one of the Greens to want to go into law, having just sat the New York Bar exam last year. She’d have been ideal as a new partner for us at Callaghan Green, but she was too inexperienced.
“At this moment in time, I never want to see another penis in my life, unless I’m changing Teddy’s diaper.” Maven tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “And I need to say thanks. I was dreading today, but you guys have got me through it in one piece.”
“It’s been a good day.” Mum came through the door now wearing what looked like Christmas pyjamas, fortunately cartoon ones rather than the ones that we knew Dad had snuck into her stocking. “I don’t think I’ll need to eat for the next twelve hours.” Her gaze landed on Max. “Next time might be your wedding breakfast. Nervous yet?”
He laughed. “My only worry is that one of these clowns might give some speech that’s not been planned and Vic will see the error of her ways.”
Victoria patted her belly and smiled. “Bit too late for that.” She looked at Maven. “And there will come a day when you do want to see a penis again. Promise you.”
Maven shook her head. “I think I’m done. We were supposed to announce our engagement to his family today.”
Crap. I wasn’t great at the whole this-is-how-it-ended stories. I tended to want to go and put my fist in someone’s face.
“Lucky escape then,” Payton said, picking one of the cold pigs-in-blankets that Dad had just put on the coffee table. “Just think what it would’ve been like if you’d found out he was a twat after you’d announced you were engaged.”
“Language, Payton.” Mum’s telling off was more because she had to rather than meant it. She used a lot worse. “But I agree with the sentiment.”
“Cockwomble. That’s always a good one if you’re pissed off with a man.” Victoria joined Payton in reaching for the cold sausages wrapped in bacon. They’d been cooked with maple syrup on them and were a mouth-orgasm, but I had a feeling the pregnant club would eat me if I tried to take one.
“You used to call me a cockwomble.” Max glared her. “I thought it was you being affectionate.”
She started laughing, shaking her head. “Seriously, Maven, you’ll get over it and men’ll stop looking like the devil. Promise.”
I sighed and managed to sneak a pigs-in-blanket. I’d heard my sisters when they started like this. I didn’t want to be listening to a men bashing session.
I stood up and stretched, surprised how I could actually move. “I think I’m going to go for a nap.”
Then ran for my life.
22
A new masonry drill set – from Maxwell to Grant
Grant
I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of my wife sorting stuff out behind me. The TV in our suite was off, the glorious sound of silence almost a shock after the noise of Christmas day.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sit down soon?” I closed my eyes, understanding that no matter what I said, she would have to go through the ritual of putting everything away and being tidy before she’d consider relaxing. “We can live with an untidy bedroom for one night.”
There was a noise that sounded like a muffled swear word. I smiled, nothing much had changed in the thirty-two years we’d been together.
“We have a wedding to go to tomorrow and I won’t have time to get things as I want them.”
I turned around and shook my head. “If our children ever saw you like this, they’d realise that you really aren’t normal.”
She paused and eyeballed me. “Grant, they are well aware I’m anything but normal. Normal wouldn’t have left a perfectly outstanding career in the best city in the world to move in with a man I’d known for a New York minute and his four feral children.”
I chuckled. That was the reaction I’d been expecting. “You need to sit down. There's one more present for you to open.”
She didn’t sit down. In all the years I’d known her, Marie had never done anything that she was told if she didn’t want to.
“I need to put these shirts away in case Eliza ends up in here again in the morning and wants to make a den out of them.”
“You take your time then. But this present’s going to need a good hour to open.” I picked up my book, knowing full well I wouldn’t be reading it.
“If that’s a hint about unwrapping you, Grant, it isn’t a subtle one.”
I felt her fingers graze the back of my neck, and a shiver ran up my spine. My wife was older now, but she was still the only woman I wanted to look at, which was helpful. If she’d ever seen me look at another woman, it’s likely my balls would’ve been served on a skewer.
“Actually, that’s for later. This is a real present. Your main one.”
She paused, putting down the last shirt. Only my wife would’ve attempted half an hour of ironing on Christmas Day.
“Okay. You’ve got me. I’ll play.” She closed her eyes and held out her hands.
I rummaged behind me and found the envelope that was a little scrunched by now. It had been in the back pocket of my pants since just after dinner, waiting for the right time to start the rather elaborate surprise I’d come up with.
Quite simply, Marie was the centre of my life. She’d saved me and my four motherless children without a thought for herself, brought three more up and ran our world. She was our world. We’d been close to losing her recently, and I understood that without her, my life would not be worth living. I could carry on for the sake of our family, but I'd feel half alive.
I dropped the envelope into her hands and she opened her eyes.
“Oh.”
The sound highlighted that she was underwhelmed.
“Is it a voucher?”
“Nope. Open it.”
“Grant… we’ve talked about not printing off your dick pics…”
I just laughed. I had sent Marie a couple of dick pics, just to see her response. She’d been sitting opposite the dining table of some rather snotty friends we had at the time. I think that was when her wine had ended up coming out of her nose.
There was the sound of tearing paper and she pulled out the plain postcard with my unappealing scrawl written across it and frowned.
“Go to the place where you first met the children.”
She looked up at me. “I hope there’s wine there?”
“I’ll go get you a glass and meet you there.”
She shook her head. “Make it a large one.”
“I know. You’ve always enjoyed my large one…”
“And we wonder where Joseph gets his sense of humour.”
Marie first met Max, Jackson, Claire and Callum in the entrance hall after a horrendous journey from New York to England, having to stop in Reykjavik due to a passenger on the plane needing a doctor urgently. We’d then been delayed for five hours because of the weather, so when we’d finally gotten home it was almost dark. We were grumpy and had to face four children, who were hugely underwhelmed that I was bringing home the woman who was going to be their step-mother.
“Here’s your wine.” I passed her a large glass of red, a Malbec I knew was one of her favourites.
“Is my present in here?” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m hoping it’s big.”
“This obsession with size definitely stems from my dick, doesn’t it?” I muttered the words quiet enough to stay between us, just in case Seph was lurking.
“It’s you who has that obsession.” She linked an arm around my neck and pressed herself close to my body. “Although I wasn’t thinking of your dick the first time I stepped foot in here. Do you remember those four little faces? I think Jackson was covered in chocolate and Callum had his top on back to front because Max had dressed him.”
“I do remember. Do you remember how Claire smiled at you when you undid your hair?” Marie had long dark hair when we first met, almost to her waist. I used to wrap it round my hand when I was taking her from behind and wake with it draped across my chest.
“She told me a couple of days later that she thought I was Snow White.”
“And not the wicked stepmother? That was fast progress. Look behind the plant.” I pointed to where another envelope was.
She stepped away from me and I immediately felt the loss. It had been like that every time.
I’d loved my first wife, but I’d felt differently for her than I did for Marie. Marie breathed life into everything; when she wasn’t there, I was restless, aimless, even with my work. I wasn’t sure if soul mates existed, but Marie was always the most important pieces of my jigsaw.
She tore open the envelope again and smiled when she saw the postcard.
“Go to the place where I proposed for the second time.” Her eyes met mine. “Grant, tell me there is a gift at the end of this and it’s not just a wild goose chase.”
“There’s a gift. It’ll all make sense. Do you want me to carry your wine?”
“That’ll be a hard no. Let’s go to the store. Come on.” She held out her forefinger and I linked mine with it, following her into the house and down the hallway to the kitchen and then the store. We passed Seph on the way and he smiled broadly, knowing exactly what was going on because the kids had helped with this. With some of it, anyway.
The cold store was cold, and I’d been tempted to miss this stop out, as we were both almost ready for bed, but it was crucial in walking through the memories we had.
“Do you remember that night when we were in here?” I knew she would, but I wanted to hear what she remembered.
Marie laughed and wrapped herself into me. “All four kids had chicken pox, I’d lived here four weeks and I’d just about managed to get Max to eat something other than meat and vegetables. You’d come out here to get the fish out of the freezer and I followed you because I needed you to tell me that I wasn’t fucking everything up.”
“You weren’t.”
“I know. You told me. And you told me how I’d changed your life in just a matter of weeks and I realised again how you’d changed mine. I didn’t recognise the woman I’d become, but I liked her. I liked being me, even though I was exhausted.”
We were in the same spot that we had been all those years ago. “I think I fell in love with you all over again. You looked shattered because Callum had been up most of the night and I don’t think you’d showered in days, plus you’d spent the afternoon instructing a ba
rrister on the case you were working on…”
“What made you ask me to marry you again that night?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because I had no other words that would get across what I felt. Then you paused…”
“And I saw the look of fear on your face. You looked bereft.”
“Then you threw yourself at me and told me yes about six hundred times. Then kept saying yes when I banged you against the door.” I knew my grin was dirty. The store was cold, but it was private and we’d discovered that we could have a few minutes of privacy in here, unlike in our bedroom into which Callum made pretty much nightly trips until he was about seven, wanting Marie.
“I think the cold sharpened my orgasms. Ah, there it is.” She reached for the envelope that was in plain sight on the shelves near the canned food. “Let’s see where I’m going next. And hope it’s somewhere warmer.”
I watched her face, still the same beautiful eyes and sharp cheekbones, just a little older now.
“The place where we made the twins. For crying out loud, Grant, please tell me they don’t know about these clues. They’ll only get revenge.”
“They don’t know the truth about them. I may’ve told them some stories just to gross them out and stop them going in my study for my whisky.”
“We conceived the twins in your study. At least it’s warm in there.” She headed to the door.
“I think it was because it was warm in there.”
A couple of minutes later and I closed the door behind us into my study. It was my den now, work becoming something I dipped into every so often when they were busy at the office or needed an opinion on something complex.
“Do you remember that night?” Marie sat at my desk, just as she had then.
“Every minute of it. You were in here working and I was feeling impatient.” She’d also been wearing a skirt that made me think indecent thoughts whenever I saw her in it.