by Sarah Morgan
Beth saw Hannah flush and intervened. “You’re not exactly in a position to make observations on relationships. You’re sleeping with the enemy.”
Now it was Posy’s turn to flush. “He’s not my enemy. Can we all agree that our choices are our own?”
“You are having sex with a man who lied to you. And to Mom.”
“In case you missed it, Mom welcomed him into her home.”
“That’s Mom. She’s the most generous person on the planet. This stuff upsets her, Posy!”
“That’s true in general, but this isn’t upsetting her. And you don’t have the monopoly on protecting her. I care about her, too. We all do.” Posy straightened. “You think Dad would let Luke through the door if seeing him made Mom feel worse?”
They both knew how protective Stewart was.
“I guess not. But that doesn’t mean you have to have a relationship with him. I’m worried about you, too.”
“She has a point,” Hannah said. “Luke hurt you.”
“And last week when I was climbing, I scraped a lump of skin off my hand. Hasn’t made me give up climbing.” Posy looked annoyed. “You can’t live your life too afraid to do things in case you get hurt. If you get hurt, you heal. And while you’re lying there healing, you can think about how much fun you had.”
Hannah frowned slightly and then went back to her book.
Beth stared into space. If you get hurt, you heal.
Her sister was so casual about it. Unlike Hannah and Beth, she didn’t spend her life trying never to be hurt. She’d freely entered into a relationship with Luke, apparently relaxed about how that might turn out. Posy did what she wanted to do and had confidence that she could handle what came her way.
Beth wanted to be more like that.
She was about to say something else when Ruby ran into the room.
“Mommy, did you call them about Bugsy again?”
Beth’s heart sank. “I did, but so far they haven’t found him.”
She needed to tell her daughter that she had to learn to live without Bugsy.
This new version of herself needed to start right now by tackling a difficult subject.
“Ruby—”
“I had an idea!” Ruby could barely contain herself. “I could write to Santa!”
“Honey, that isn’t—”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Hannah put her book down. “I’ll help you write the letter and you can sign your name. We can use your pretty glitter pens.”
As Ruby sprinted from the room to find her sparkly pens, Beth felt a rush of frustration.
“I was about to tell her the truth.”
“She believes in Santa.” Hannah stood up. “You said you didn’t want to spoil that.”
“But now you’ve postponed the misery until Christmas morning. If I have to handle her being upset, I’d rather do it now, but you’ve made sure I can’t.”
Hannah paused by the door. “Beth—”
“If you’re about to tell me to calm down, then don’t. I know you mean well, but the truth is you don’t know anything about children.”
There was a hideous silence, and then Hannah turned and followed Ruby out of the room without saying anything else.
Beth bit her lip. “Now I’ve upset her.”
“What you’ve done is knock her confidence.” Posy sounded weary. “She doesn’t think she’s good with kids, and you’ve made her feel she’s right in that assumption. You should cut her some slack.”
“I’m the one who will have to figure out how to explain to Ruby on Christmas morning that Santa doesn’t always give us what we ask for, even when we’re good.”
“Is that such a bad lesson? We don’t always get everything we want—that’s a truth of life.” Posy watched as the fire flickered to life. “I understand that you want to keep the Santa thing alive, and that’s natural. Christmas is a magical time when small children are around. But you can’t raise kids to believe life is always going to be smooth. Sometimes life throws rocks at you, and when that happens, they need to learn to dodge when they can and get back up if they’re hit. You need to teach them to handle the rocks.”
“You’re saying I’m not a good mom.”
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying that being a good mom isn’t just about protecting your kids from hurt, it’s about showing them how to cope with hurt. It’s about teaching them resilience and giving them the tools to handle whatever comes their way.” She walked out of the room and Beth stared after her.
Deep down she was uncomfortably aware that Posy was right.
She needed to stop protecting her children from every little hurt.
Could she do that?
26
Hannah
The storm hit later that morning, the wind whipping at the windows and roaring through the trees. Some snapped at the roots and came crashing down, others bent and groaned under the pressure.
It sounded as if someone was wailing outside the window.
Hannah wondered if she was the only one who thought it sounded like a baby crying. Or maybe it was a reflection of the fact that all she could think about was the pregnancy.
Beth’s words had hurt her.
You don’t know anything about children.
And yet here she was, pregnant. She had seven and a half months to figure it out.
Bad parenting could really screw a child up. No one knew that better than she did, and she didn’t want to be the one to ruin a child’s life.
She knew she should tell Adam about the pregnancy, but she hadn’t got used to the idea herself yet. She hadn’t had time to process it herself, let alone work out what she wanted to say to him.
And how could they possibly have a conversation like that under the microscopic gaze of her family? It was excruciating.
She felt as if everyone was watching her and making judgments.
They gathered round the table for lunch, and she was relieved that Luke also joined them.
It reduced the chances of her being asked anything personal.
Adam was seated to her right and Ruby had insisted on sitting to her left.
Hannah was grateful for the excuse to avoid the awkward conversation for a little longer.
“Santa will come, won’t he, Aunty Hannah? What if the reindeer can’t make it through the snowstorm?”
Hannah caught her sister’s eye. “I—well...” She honestly couldn’t do this. “He’s going to make it.”
“But how?”
Hannah was conscious that anything she said was probably going to be the wrong thing. “He’s had a lot of practice—I guess he knows what he’s doing.” Which was more than she did. She didn’t have a clue.
“I hope so, because he’s bringing Bugsy.”
Beth stabbed a spoon into a bowl of roasted parsnips but said nothing.
Suzanne was carving the meat when Posy’s phone beeped.
Stewart’s beeped at the same time.
Posy dug her phone out of her pocket and seconds later was on her feet. “Sorry, we need to go. We’ve got walkers stranded three thousand feet up in blizzard conditions.”
Suzanne paused, the knife in her hand. “But you haven’t eaten—”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Can’t they send the helicopter?”
“Can’t fly in this.” Posy grabbed a hunk of bread and spread it thickly with butter. “Too much clag and snow.”
Adam reached for his wine. “For the urban uninitiated—what’s clag?”
“Thick fog.” Posy stole a slice of chicken from the plate. “Zero visibility. Basically no helicopter is flying to help them, which means we’ll have to do it on foot.” She ate as she walked to the door. “Don’t wait up for us.”
Suzanne put the knife down. “You think it’s go
ing to take that long?”
“Maybe.” Stewart grabbed his coat and reached for his boots. “We’ll take the tracked vehicle and get as close as possible. Also comes in handy as a storm shelter if we happen to need one.”
Hannah felt her stomach lurch. She caught Suzanne’s eye.
Both of them remembered that night.
Posy whistled to Bonnie, who left her position by Ruby’s chair and bounded to the door, tail wagging. “At least someone likes searching in a blizzard.”
Luke stood up, too. “Could the team use some help?”
Posy glanced over her shoulder. “Skilled help such as you, definitely. You’ve already trained with us three times. Are you sure you want to spend your afternoon on an exposed mountaintop where winds are gusting at ninety miles an hour and the wind chill is minus twenty-five?”
“Can’t think of a better date.”
Hannah was baffled. She didn’t understand her sister at all, but Luke seemed to. Maybe they were well suited after all.
There was a flurry of activity. Stewart kissed Suzanne, and then they were gone, the door torn out of their hands by the wind, and then slamming shut behind them.
A moment later they all heard an engine roar to life.
“I apologize, Adam.” Suzanne finished carving the chicken. “Family lunches aren’t normally as crazy as this one.”
Adam stood up and passed her the plates. “I don’t find it crazy.”
He looked comfortable, which somehow made Hannah feel worse.
Beth looked at Suzanne. “How can you let him go if it worries you so much?”
“Because he’s doing something he loves. And so is Posy. I wouldn’t want to stop them doing something they love. Does it worry me? Of course. Do I relax for a moment when I know they’re out there in the mountains and the weather is bad? No. But I tell myself that they know what they’re doing. And neither of them is a risk taker. They don’t go looking for danger.”
They ate lunch, and then Ruby grabbed Hannah’s hand.
“Will you play with me?”
Worried that she’d do something else that would upset her sister, Hannah forced a smile. “I’m not that great at playing, Ruby.”
“I’ll show you how,” Ruby said kindly. “You can learn. All you need is practice. We’ll play libraries. I’ll bet you’re good at libraries because you like books.”
Hannah stood up. Why would such a simple statement feel like a thump in the chest? “I’ll come and play with you. We can play anything you like.” She knew she should be talking to Adam, but the weather was too wild to go for a walk and she didn’t fancy hiding away in her room, where anyone walking past could be listening.
Adam stood up. “I have a proposal to finish, so I’ll go and do that. Thank you for a delicious lunch.”
Hannah played with Ruby for a few hours. It was just the two of them in the downstairs den, and she found herself relaxing.
First they made Christmas decorations, using copious amounts of glue and glitter, much of which landed on Hannah’s jeans.
After an hour, Melly joined them. “Can I do your makeup, Aunty Hannah?”
Hannah dutifully sat on the floor while Melly carefully made up her face. She was already covered in glitter. How much worse could she look?
“You’re very pretty, Aunty Hannah.” Melly turned her attention to Hannah’s hair. “You’d look good with ribbons.”
Hannah, who had never considered herself a ribbon type of person, sat still while Melly brushed her hair and tied it in a pink ribbon.
She didn’t dare look in a mirror.
“It’s my turn to play with Aunty Hannah.” Ruby grabbed her hand and tugged her across the room. “You need to lie on the floor. I’m going to bury you and then rescue you. You’re allowed to scream if you like, because you’re very scared. I’ll reassure you.”
Hannah was hiding under a pile of sofa cushions for the fourth time, when Adam walked into the room.
Ruby was delighted by the arrival of more potential victims. “Would you like to play my rescue game? I’m a firefighter and you’re buried.”
“That is one of the most appealing offers I’ve had in a while,” Adam said soberly, “but I was hoping to steal Hannah away. I need her help with numbers.”
Ruby was understanding. “She’s very smart.”
“She is.”
Hannah crawled out from under the cushions. She had glitter on her trousers and a ribbon in her hair and she didn’t need a mirror to imagine how she looked. In fact, now would probably be a good time to scream.
The corner of Adam’s mouth flickered and she stood up, embarrassed. She felt uncomfortable playing with children in front of an audience because she knew she wasn’t good at it, although it had to be said that Ruby had been adorably forgiving of her lack of talent.
It’s okay, Aunty Hannah. I know you didn’t mean to do it wrong—
Still, having Adam witness her inadequacy in the childcare department right before she told him she was pregnant wasn’t great timing.
Or maybe it was. At least it should be patently obvious to him why she was nervous.
She followed him to the bedroom and closed the door behind them. “You’ve been working on the proposal?”
“It’s done. I thought you’d like to check it.” He glanced at her. “I bet if we were to switch the lights off, you’d glow in the dark. I particularly like the pink ribbon. I hope that’s a look you’re going to bring back to New York with you.”
“My face is itching from all the makeup, but I don’t want to take it off.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to offend Melly. She’s very proud of her work.”
He studied her for a moment. “I’m telling myself that you’re playing with your nieces because that’s what you want to do, and not because you’re trying to avoid me. You still haven’t told me why you came home early, or why you lied about Posy being ill.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Is this because I pushed our relationship too hard? Does me telling you I love you make you uncomfortable?”
It was so much more complicated than that.
He let go of her. “I shouldn’t have come. It wasn’t fair on you. I should have called first, but whenever I call, there’s either no signal or you don’t pick up. I’m a person who, if their route is blocked, takes a different route. You know that about me. It was driving me crazy not being able to see you and talk to you, so after I spoke to Posy, it seemed like the right thing to do.” He walked to the window and stared at the sunless sky and the swirl of threatening gray. “It’s wild out there. Will your sister be all right?”
Right now she wasn’t thinking about Posy, she was thinking about him.
Was it really fair to tell him she was pregnant while he was here, surrounded by her family? There was no neutrality here. No comfortable way of him extracting himself from what could be a hideously awkward situation.
“Posy is good at what she does. She’s careful. So is Stewart.” Still, she felt a lurch of worry. Suzanne had been good at what she did, too. She’d been careful. “I’d better check on Suzanne. She’s going to be worried.”
He shifted his gaze from the view to her face. “Why do you call her Suzanne? I noticed that your sisters call her Mom.”
“It was my way of keeping some distance.”
“Why did you feel you needed to do that?”
She sat down on the bed. This part, at least, she could be honest about. While the wind battered the windows and shook the house, she told him all of it. How her father had always been impatient with her. How she’d felt they hadn’t wanted her. How she’d known she wasn’t the favorite.
“I didn’t have skills they admired.”
“I didn’t feel that they loved me, and if they didn’t love me, why would Suzanne?”
&
nbsp; The words flowed surprisingly easily and he listened without interrupting, his gaze fixed on hers, while outside the wind lashed at the windows like a wild animal.
It was only when she finished talking that he spoke.
“You call her Suzanne because you were afraid of getting close to her?”
“It felt safer. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back hurts. And you can’t make someone love you.”
“You don’t think Suzanne loves you?”
“I know she does. But at the beginning I felt like a burden. When you’ve spent a lifetime guarding yourself, it’s hard to change.”
“You guard yourself with me, too. And I’ve put extra pressure on you by being here. Go and talk to Suzanne, Hannah. She’s going to be worried sick about Posy and Stewart. Your dad.”
There was so much more to say, but she had no idea how to say it, so she left the room.
If the weather improved, they could go for a walk tomorrow. It would be easier to talk outdoors.
The kitchen smelled of Christmas and Suzanne was bustling around, an apron tied around her middle.
She smiled as Hannah walked into the room. “I see you’ve been spending time with Melly.”
Hannah touched the pink ribbon ruefully. “What gave me away—the glitter or the ribbon?”
Suzanne pulled a loaf of bread out of the oven. “I think you’ve made your niece very happy. I’ve made two different soups and frozen them, and I’m on my second batch of bread.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. This is how I stay sane when your father and sister are out on the hills. If I’m busy, I don’t think.” Suzanne eased the loaf out of the tin. “I shouldn’t worry, but it’s blowing a gale out there, so it’s impossible not to. I try not to smother them. Mostly I succeed. I’ve done a better job with them than I have with you.”
“What do you mean?” Hannah picked up a cloth and took the empty loaf tin from Suzanne.
“I worry about you.”
“What happened that night damaged all of us in different ways.”
“Yes, but we both know that for you much of the damage happened before that night.” Suzanne sifted flour into a bowl. “We’ve never talked about your relationship with your father.”