by Holly Kerr
“Yeah…sitting.” My mouth quirks up at the corners at the thought of my brothers sitting cross-legged on the floor, fighting over the turkey.
My smile fades. The turkey I have to cook.
“Seamus will be at your place in a couple of hours,” Tenley adds.
“Raylene might be at my apartment then. Bryton’s sister,” I say. Now it’s time for both Tenely and Pippa to look confused.
“So?” Pippa asks.
I glance at Tenley. “You don’t know about Raylene? Maybe it was one-sided,” I concede quickly. “Maybe it was nothing to him.”
“Maybe what was nothing? You’re not making sense, Charlie.”
The realization that I know something that happened in the past before Tenley does sends me into a fit of laughter. “You don’t know! I know, but you don’t! This is great.”
“This doesn’t feel great to me,” she says with a scowl.
“Raylene told me she was in love with Seamus. I’m sure he didn’t feel the same or he would have said something.” I realize as soon as the words come out of my mouth that this should have been left unsaid.
Especially when Tenley’s shoulders slump against her pillow. “He wouldn’t have said anything.”
“She didn’t say he was in love with her.”
“Have you seen her?” Pippa explodes. “She’s bloody gorgeous. Model material. But…” she trails off when Tenley’s face falls. “Looks don’t mean everything.”
“Thanks,” Tenley says wryly.
“Tell me more about what I need to do for dinner?” I suggest.
“Tell me more about this Raylene.”
“She wouldn’t…you have nothing to worry about,” I reassure her. “He helped her in the past. It was a long time ago and she was just an infatuated kid. You know how teenagers are. No way he felt the same. And even if he did, Seamus loves you now.”
“I know,” she says, which stops me from continuing to rattle on. “I know. And I know Seamus has a past. So do I.”
“Colin,” Pippa coughs into her fist.
“Yes, Colin. Who will be coming for Christmas dinner as well.”
Pippa smirks. “Won’t that be a cozy quartet?”
“Didn’t you and Colin—?” I ask.
Pippa waves away my question. “That’s not the point. The point is, this will be a lovely dinner, courtesy of Charlie.”
I smile brightly, so Tenley won’t see the fear in my eyes. “So what do I have to do?” I ask.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Always jingle all the way. No one likes a half-assed jingler.”
unknown
“You got a tree!”
An ten-foot-high tree stands in the corner of the living room, the pine scent hitting me like a wall when I come through the door.
“I know you wanted to pick one out together, but we were running out of time,” Ham apologizes. “I knew you’d be at Head Office for a while, so I took Bryton. We got the biggest we could find.”
Ham and Bryton went to get a Christmas tree?
“Took a bit to get it into the elevator.” Bryton laughs. “I don’t think your doorman is used to big trees like this.”
“I’m sure most of the residents have the fake, table-top-sized ones,” Ham says. For the first time, I realize Ham has shed his ever-present tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He looks…relaxed? And is that a beer on the table?
“What’s the point?” Bryton demands. “Even back in Suriname, we had to get a real tree. It’s one of my first memories when I was a kid, of coming to Canada for the holidays. My parents wanted us to see the snow. Do you remember, Ray?”
Raylene is back on my couch like she never left.
“The smell was heavenly.” She rolls her eyes. “I loved the trees, but it was so cold! Thankfully, I’ve gotten used to that, but some days...” She clutches her mug of hot chocolate closer. “Brr.”
“Montreal can be quite chilly,” Ham agrees.
I take a step back. “What’s going on here? You’re all—”
“Seamus was here,” Ham interrupts.
Raylene hugs herself. “It was so good to see him.”
“He brought a table and the turkey. Plus a roasting pan. You’ve talked to Tenley?”
I pull out a folded piece of paper from my back pocket. “She made me write things down. I had no idea a dinner was so involved.”
“She’s very meticulous.” Ham smiles. “I’ve always liked that about Tenley.”
“So, yeah, turkey.” I toe off my shoes, leaving the laces still tied. “Tomorrow, starting at six a.m. Lots to do.”
“Which is why I brought the tree home today. I thought you could decorate it tonight. I saw the decorations you bought the other day.” The bags of ornaments and Christmas decorations sit abandoned beside the tree.
“I didn’t really have time to unpack.”
“I can help you decorate tonight.” Bryton waves his beer in my direction.
This is all wrong. It should be Ham and me stringing garland and arguing about how much tinsel to use. I look pointedly at my husband. “I bought you a Santa hat to wear,” I say to him, pretending I hadn’t heard Bryton’s offer.
“I’ll wear it tomorrow for dinner. I promise. Tonight, however, I have to go back to Head Office.”
“You’re not going to help decorate?”
At least he has the sense to look guilty. “Charlotte, I’m sorry, but there are things I must finish up. Things are nearing a head in Suriname and I have to keep in touch with what’s going on.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Bryton asks.
“Unfortunately, until you win that election, you have no authority,” Ham says ruefully. “I’m going to make sure there is an election for you to win.”
“You have no idea how much I appreciate this. What you’re doing for Suriname…for me. Keeping my sister safe—”
“That’s what I do,” Ham says as stoic as ever. He glances at me with a smile in his eyes. “That’s what we do.”
~
After a quick dinner of Thai takeout, Ham goes back to Head Office. Raylene leaves soon after, heading to the safe house to check on the refugees before returning to her hotel.
“You’ll be safe?” Bryton squeezes her shoulders, leaning his forehead against hers.
“No one knows I’m here. Or alive for that matter,” she assures him with a laugh.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” he says quietly.
“I’m glad you’re alive, too.” She throws her arms around her brother.
Was this what it’s like for my brothers? Did they—do they—worry every time I go on a mission? Do they think about me, wonder if I’m all right?
“I’m off,” Raylene says brightly to mask the wetness in her eyes. “See you tomorrow for dinner. I’m bringing wine, but do you need anything else, Charlie?” Her brown-eyed gaze searches mine.
“I think I’m okay.”
She holds my gaze for another moment and then throws her arms around me. “It’s so good to see you. I know you don’t remember…I’ve really missed you.” Her voice is choked. I’m not sure if it’s that or the hug, but I tighten my arms around her waist.
“I missed you, too. I mean, I must miss you, if we were like you say.”
“We were,” she whispers into my hair. “Trust me.”
I pull away, suddenly chilled by the reminder of Benjy, who deceived me, used my memory loss as a weapon against me. He told me to trust him, too. I pull back to study Raylene’s face.
She looks confused. “What did I say?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Sorry. Occupational hazard. I’ll be fine tomorrow. See you then.” I hold the door open for her, wishing Bryton would leave as well.
But he doesn’t.
“What happened there?” he asks as I wait by the closed door until I hear the sound of the elevator arriving in the hall. “You can’t trust her?”
“I don’t know her. And I don’t know you.” Stalking back into the
living room, I pick up one of the bags and dump the decorations on the couch in a tangle of Christmas colours.
“You don’t, not anymore. Even if you did have your memories, I wouldn’t be the same person you knew. Just like you’re different. People change over time.”
“How am I different?” I ask, intrigued.
“You’re older.” Bryton picks up the bottle of red wine on the table and refills both of our glasses. “Obviously. You were just a kid back then, but you were mature. Responsible, probably because of your training. You’re serious now, but if I look hard enough, I think I could find the playful side.”
I pick up a box of lights, sliding a fingernail under the tape that seals it. “I was told that you made me laugh.”
“We were always laughing. We had fun together, Charlie. Some of my best memories were with you.”
“Were they the best for me?” Mister skitters into the room, looking to play after a nap on the bed. Bryton laughs and tosses him the balled up receipt from the bag.
“I like to think so,” he says, his face wistful. “I don’t know for sure. You’re with Ham now, and I see he’s good for you.” He picks up his glass and takes a long sip, and I think that’s the end of it until he continues. “You would talk about him like he was some sort of god. On and on, about how good and noble and brave he was. I hated him for a lot of years, just from how you spoke about him.”
“I didn’t mean to do that.”
He sets his wine down. “Ancient history. I’ve gotten to know him now. He’s a good man. And he’s very lucky to have you, something I’m glad he realizes.”
I pull the string of lights from the box and begin to untangle them. Bryton takes the end dangling from my hand. “I think this works best if you plug it in first.” When he does, the strand glows brightly. “You’re going to need more. He got you a big tree.”
“I wanted a big tree. I got lots of lights.”
Silently, with Christmas music serenading us in the background, we wind the lights around the tree. Bryton pulls over a chair to reach the top. “Do you have a star or an angel?” he asks, on his tiptoes.
“I forgot a star!”
“It looks fine without it. Look, turn off the lights.”
I do as he asks and the tree twinkles in the darkness. I stand admiring it as Bryton climbs down from the chair and comes to my side.
The apartment is quiet, save for Mister playing with his paper. I smell the lingering hint of chilis from dinner, and wine, either from my glass on the table or from Bryton’s breath.
“Did you love me?” My voice is quiet, not wanting to break the silence but needing to know. Needing to find my way back to trust him.
“Very much,” Bryton says in a low voice. He doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Raylene said you wanted to marry me, and that’s why your mother sent me back.”
Bryton makes a sound in his throat and moves to pick up his glass. “It’s my biggest regret,” he admits, his voice low and growly. “If I hadn’t spoken to my mother about how I felt, then she wouldn’t have sent you away, and you might have been able to save her. But then, if you’d been there, you might have been killed too.” He shrugs. “It’s a no-win for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Part of me wishes you were there, and the other part is glad you were safe.” He chuckles. “Not entirely safe, considering what you do for a living. I’m going to turn the lights back on. We have to finish the tree.”
“Did I love you?” I see his back stiffen before he presses the light switch.
“I like to think you did.”
“Did I tell you I did?” He nods. “Then I did. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”
I loved him, loved another man. That thought follows me to bed later, after the tree is finished, after I see Bryton settled in the spare room. Ham isn’t home, and as I lie alone in our bed, I think of Bryton in the next room. Also alone.
And I wonder what my life would have been like if things had been different.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I think I might kill someone today.”
Monica Geller, Friends
I don’t remember what time Ham got to bed last night, but I leave him there when my alarm goes off at 6 a.m. Any thoughts of Bryton are pushed from my mind because I have a mission today.
Ham finds me in the kitchen an hour later, my brand new Captain Marvel apron covering my pyjamas, my hand stuck up the turkey. “What on earth are you doing?”
I whirl around with a smile on my face. “Merry Christmas !” I sing over my shoulder. Turning back to my bird, I pull out a wax paper wrapped collection of…things. I don’t want to think about what they might be. “Can you open the compost please?”
“Do I want to know what that is?”
“No, and neither do I. Have you ever cooked a turkey?”
Ham laughs. “What do you think?”
“It’s very involved, more than I thought. Luckily, Tenley gave me detailed directions, plus I Googled turkey recipes last night.”
“How did things go last night? After I left, I mean.”
I jerk my chin towards the door. “The tree is decorated.”
“And it looks nice. But I meant with Bryton. Did you talk?”
This time I turn to him with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean? It almost sounds like you meant to leave us alone.”
“I thought you might need closure. Or an explanation.”
“I hate the word closure. And I didn’t need an explanation.”
“Charlotte. You’re missing a big piece of your memories, a big piece of your life. I know that’s troubling to you. I hoped this would help you sort some things out.”
“It was a little awkward, but it went okay. We talked.”
Not as much as I needed to. Not as much as I should have. Bryton was willing and able to tell me whatever I wanted to know, and I was…
I was afraid. Simple as that. The invincible Charlotte Dodd—Declan called me that once, so I’m not making it up—is afraid of teenage girls and finding out how much I loved another man.
There’s no sense regretting anything. If my memories are meant to come back, then they’ll come back, Bryton or not Bryton.
“I’m glad.” Ham drops a kiss on the top of my head, oblivious to my inner monologue. “I’m going to leave now, so I can get out of Head Office as early as I can. Text me if you need anything.”
“What are you going to do? Cook a turkey for me?”
Ham gives me a smile that makes my insides melt. “Anything for you, Charlotte.”
I hum with happiness as the door closes behind him.
Hours later, I come to the conclusion that this dinner is going to be the most difficult mission of my entire career.
My hands ache from peeling enough potatoes to save Pippa’s homeland from the potato famine. There’s a burn on my forearm from pulling the roasted squash out of the oven and my finger hasn’t stopped bleeding from the Brussels sprouts mishap. “Outer leaves pulled off and Xs carved on the ends,” I recite Tenley’s instructions from memory as I change the Band-Aid on my pinkie. “Stupid little things.”
The stupid little Brussels sprouts are ready to be doused with maple syrup and stuck in the oven. My hands smell of onion from the stuffing I made myself, again, thanks to Tenley’s recipe. I did make a few adjustments.
Who really likes water chestnuts anyway?
The bird has been stuffed with my stuffing and lies in the pan in the oven, already driving Mister crazy from the smell. The carrots are scrubbed for the second time after I dropped the pot on the floor.
I didn’t need to actually scrub them, just give them a quick rinse to make sure there’s no cat hair on them. I think I got them all, but something under the fridge has kept Mister entertained trying to swipe it out with his paw. The carrots are now ready to be boiled and then drizzled with the honey-thyme sauce. The broccoli-cauliflower casserole is probably the most complicated dish and yet g
ave me the least trouble. I smile warmly at the pan on the counter. It just needs a sprinkle of bread crumbs to be complete.
I stretch my neck, feeling the welcome pops as it cracks. I’ve climbed a mountain, chased after a speeding car on foot, and had too many fights to count, but I’ve never been this tired.
Cooking is hard work.
I turn at the sound of footsteps. “It already smells good in here. You could have woken me up to help,” Bryton says.
My heart skips a traitorous beat at the sight of him in a pair of Ham’s pyjama pants and no shirt.
“I’d say good morning, but I think you missed most of it. I’m glad you slept in, though.” We’re civil, polite; no one watching us would be able to tell that we share a past.
Bryton stares around the kitchen. “There’s a lot of food in here.”
“There’s a lot of people coming.” Even though I know down to the last finger who will be coming for dinner, I count it down. “Me and Ham; Pippa, Declan, Tenley, Seamus—I don’t know if you know my other brothers, but they’ll be here with their wives; Tenley’s daughter, Lucy; Buckley, Ida, Minka Grace, and Lance. Plus Colin Darcy, who is a friend of Pippa’s and was sort of dating Tenley. And you and your sister. How many is that?”
“Eighteen. Are you sure you have room for everyone?”
“I really hope so.”
“What can I do to help?”
Put on a shirt to start. But I don’t say that, because I don’t want to wonder if his abs were that chiselled when I knew him.
“You can set the table,” I suggest.
We added Tenley’s folding table to ours last night, and they fill the centre of the room, with chairs neatly pushed in. Crisp white tablecloths cover them and silver candlesticks and matching salt and pepper cellars dot the middle.
“I need flowers,” I muse aloud. “Maybe Seamus can bring some. He also has the pies and some cranberry sauce that Tenley made. Or forced Seamus to make.” I shake my head with a laugh. “I never would have believed my brother could be domesticated like that.”
“Look at you,” Bryton points out. “I remember you sneaking into the kitchen of my parents’ house. You had no interest in what the cooks were doing but you wanted the fresh, warm-from-the-oven bread.”