Gabby bit into her cheek as hysteria threatened to take over. Oh God, Christmas with the parents. And with his almost stepdaughter. ‘Thank you,’ she managed, rushing towards the door, almost tripping over her own feet in her desperation to leave. ‘I’ll, umm, I’ll let you know.’
‘Gabby!’ She turned to find Zoe rushing towards her. ‘Thank you for doing the tree with me.’
Her heart skipped a beat and Gabby forced the panic down sufficiently to smile at Zoe. ‘Thank you for letting me.’
Before emotion could take hold, she flung the door open and almost ran to her car. As she reversed she spotted Owen in her rear-view mirror, watching her from the doorway. His face a mixture of confusion and frustration.
She understood the feeling. Trouble was, she was the one causing the confusion. And she was the one frustrating them both.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Christmas Eve
When Owen thought back to Christmas as a kid, board games always featured highly – usually ending in him and Alice fighting over who’d cheated most. Figuring it was his duty to teach the art to the next generation, he dragged out his old Monopoly board and started playing with his dad and Zoe. His mind was only half on the game though. The other half was at Gabby’s house. Wondering if she was zipping up her case.
‘That’ll be a hundred quid.’
He frowned over at his dad. ‘You don’t even own Oxford Street. Even if you did, that’s a rip off price.’
His dad winked at Zoe and then chuckled – actually bloody chuckled. ‘Just checking you were paying attention. Your mind looks like it’s elsewhere.’ He gave him a shrewd look. ‘Maybe with a pretty brown-haired lass.’
Zoe’s head snapped up. ‘That’s Gabby. Owen’s in love with Gabby,’ she said in a sing-song voice, giggling.
‘I didn’t say that.’ But he could feel his heart pumping and a flush creeping up his neck. What was he, ten?
His dad gave him a knowing smile that bordered on a smirk. ‘You didn’t have to. Is she still planning on going on holiday today?’
‘She’s packed, so probably, yes.’ He sighed, eyes on the board so his father wouldn’t be able to read his pathetic hope. ‘But her mum’s visiting. And … well, I invited her over tomorrow, both of them actually, if she decides to stay.’
Owen caught Zoe’s interested eyes on him and he plastered on a big smile. ‘I mean, who wouldn’t rather come here for Christmas than go somewhere warm and sunny, eh, Zoe? You don’t regret your decision yet, do you?’
She gave him a slow, sweet smile. ‘I miss Mum, but I’d rather be here. You and Gramps are pretty cool.’
‘Gramps?’ Owen tried to school his expression into mildly interested, and not WTF.
‘Well, he’s your dad, and you’re kind of like my dad, so we decided on Gramps.’ She grinned up at the man in question. ‘Didn’t we?’
Owen’s eyes started to sting and his chest felt like someone had put a band around it and was squeezing really, really tight. A glance towards his dad wasn’t much help. His face was the mirror of his own drowning emotions. ‘That’s great, Zoe,’ he squeezed out, rising to his feet. ‘I just need to … to get a drink. Either of you want one?’
He staggered out of the room to the kitchen where he filled the kettle on autopilot, clicking it on before collapsing onto the nearest chair. You’re kind of like my dad.
It was the first time she’d ever said something like that and it felt so, so precious. A gift he’d earned and would never give her cause to retract.
At the sound of shuffling, he looked round to find his dad wincing as he knocked the walker on the door frame. ‘Have you taken your painkillers today?’
‘Yes, Doc.’ His dad took a few more steps before giving him a careful study. ‘Are you okay?’
Owen managed a weak smile. ‘It’s usually me asking you that.’
‘Then my question is long overdue.’ He shifted, his movements slow and awkward, before plonking himself onto the chair next to Owen. ‘She’s quite the girl.’
Owen laughed. ‘She is that. Gramps.’
His dad smiled. ‘I actually meant Gabby, but yes, Zoe is quite a girl, too.’
‘Ah.’ The sound of the kettle boiling gave Owen an excuse to fiddle around with mugs and teabags. If his mum had been around, he’d have blurted everything he was feeling. Hell, he’d have been on the phone to her yesterday, asking her advice on how to win Gabby back. They’d had that kind of closeness. But now he only had his dad. A man who’d shown enough concern, enough interest, to drag his aching body away from the armchair to come and find him.
After topping the mugs up with milk, Owen pushed one towards him. ‘Gabby would quell you with one of her looks if you called her a girl but yes, she’s quite a woman.’
‘She’s only, what, twenty something?’
‘Thirty.’
His dad huffed. ‘She’s still a girl to me.’ He took a sip of the tea. ‘Is young Zoe right? Do you love Gabby?’
Owen looked his dad straight in the eye. ‘Yes.’
Eyes brimming with understanding, his dad smiled. ‘Then you’ll win her back.’
‘As simple as that?’
He chuckled. ‘I didn’t say it would be simple. Nothing to do with the opposite sex ever is.’ Pain flickered across his face before he seemed to gather himself. ‘But I have every confidence that my son will win over the woman he loves, if she’s important enough to him.’ With those surprisingly touching words, his dad put his hands on the walker and heaved himself to his feet. ‘Now I’m going to go and finish that Monopoly game with Zoe. I suggest, rather than wondering what your Gabby’s doing, you give her a bloody call and find out.’
It had been a funny morning. When she’d woken, Gabby hadn’t been sure whether she was going to Florida, or staying at home.
She also knew that if she dithered long enough, the decision would be made for her.
She’d paid for the damn holiday, she thought crossly, staring at the suitcase. And though she could swop her flights to a later date, the hotel should have been cancelled yesterday. And she hadn’t. Why? Because it wasn’t really a choice, was it? Ten days in the sun by herself, doing exactly what she wanted, versus one day eating turkey with a man she’d been dating but had fallen out with, that man’s father, and the daughter of that man’s ex. Oh and maybe her mother, too, who didn’t know either of them. Who hadn’t even met the man who’d offered the invitation.
Gabby sagged back onto her bed. Why was life so complicated?
You’ve made it complicated, a voice niggled at her. She’d accepted Owen’s apology, knew he hadn’t even been in the wrong. So why was she still wobbling, when in her heart she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
‘Have you made a decision yet?’ Her mother hovered in the doorway, nodding towards the suitcase.
Glumly Gabby shook her head. ‘How stupid is that? I’ve paid for a perfectly good holiday, one I’d originally planned to go on by myself anyway. I don’t know why I’m not just booking a taxi to the airport.’
‘Because you have feelings for Owen.’
‘Yes.’ Whatever feelings meant.
‘And he returns these feelings?’
Numbly Gabby nodded. ‘I know he cares for me. He wants us to get back on track. I don’t understand why I can’t do exactly that. Why I’m sitting here feeling so confused.’
Her mother came and sat next to her. ‘Because you’re afraid to rely on someone else for your happiness.’ She gave her a sad smile. ‘Believe me, I know the feeling. After your father left me, I didn’t have the guts to fall in love again. There were men, quite a few over the years, but none I allowed to get too close. I suspect you’re the same.’
Gabby wanted to dispute it – please God she wasn’t anything like the woman who’d continually let her down. But in this respect, she knew they were alike. ‘You made me this way.’
Her mother’s face contorted in anguish. ‘I know, and I’m sorry. I disappointed yo
u so many times and I made you scared to trust. But this man hasn’t let you down. From what I understand, he’s taking care of his father and looking after a girl he’s not even a father to. Does he sound like the sort of man who can’t be relied on?’
‘No.’ Her heart squeezed as she recalled how caring he was with his dad, despite the bluster. The clear affection he held for Zoe. He even seemed to have taken Hilda under his wing. But wasn’t that all part of the problem?
‘Gabby.’ Her mother went to hold her hand, then seemed to think better of it and patted it instead. ‘I know I’ve not been much of a mother to you, that it’s probably too late for me to be reaching out now, but I am here if you need me. I want to help.’
She was trying, Gabby realised. First yesterday’s confession, and now her tentative offer. If she wanted to release herself from the past, to move forward, she needed to try, too. ‘Everything you said about Owen is true, but it also isn’t the man I thought I was dating. He’s supposed to be a flirt, only out for a good time. It was meant to be fun. But he’s actually a whole lot deeper than I gave him credit for.’ She inhaled a deep breath and looked her mother in the eye. ‘And I’m in danger of drowning.’
Her mother gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘You’re a good swimmer, Gabby. I may not have been a great mother, but I remember making sure of that. Good swimmers don’t panic when they get out of their depth. They relax, confident in their capability. And their judgement.’
‘It didn’t work out too well for you.’
‘No.’ Sadness came and went in her eyes. ‘But I was younger. I dived in head first without thinking, without seeing the danger signs. And they were there, I realised afterwards, if only I’d bothered to look. My worry for you is the opposite. That in your determination to be cautious, to hold back and wait for signs you’re convinced you’ll find if you search hard enough, you might not take the dive at all.’
Why risk taking it though, when it was easier to remain on dry land? Yet Gabby knew if she carried on skirting close to the edge, there was a chance of her falling in anyway.
From the bedside table where she’d left it, her phone began to ring. Gabby reached for it, raising her eyebrows when she saw who it was.
‘Is it him?’
‘Yes.’
Her mother rose and walked to the door. ‘Then I’ll go and pack my things and leave you to it.’
Drawing in a slow breath, Gabby sat back against the headboard and pressed answer. ‘Hello.’
‘Hey.’ The sound of his voice immediately sent her pulse racing, making a mockery of her assertion that she preferred to stay out of the water. ‘Are you at the airport yet?’
‘No.’
‘Are you planning to go to the airport?’
His voice gave nothing away, leaving her only to guess at how he felt. He’d said he wanted them to resume their relationship, but at what level? Giving up her holiday to spend Christmas with him would be a huge step. A massive indication to them both of how she felt. ‘I don’t know.’
She was sure she heard his breath catch. ‘Is there anything I can say to persuade you to give up ten days in the sun and spend those days with me here instead?’
Maybe she wouldn’t have to take the step alone. ‘You could try.’
‘I am a salesman, remember.’ His voice was warmer now, and she could tell he was smiling. ‘Are you sure you want to risk it?’
‘Fire away.’
There was a small pause, and she presumed he was deciding his tactic. ‘I could point out the obvious. That if you stay, you get me in your bed, or more precisely me in my bed, because I can’t leave dad looking after Zoe.’
‘I understand that.’
‘Yet you don’t seem swayed, which is a pretty big dent to my ego.’
‘I’m waiting to hear the full proposal until I make a decision.’
‘Ah yes, of course. Miss Cautious needs all the details before she can make up her mind.’
A smile tugged at her mouth. ‘Keep going, Cooper. So far all I’ve had is a dubious offer to sleep in your bed.’
‘I take offence at the term dubious, but I see you’re angling for another sweetener to seal the deal.’ He went silent and she sat forward, straining to hear, her heart thumping. ‘What if I told you I want you here with me? That I’ll cook for you, wait on you. Give you back massages, foot massages. That I can’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas than with you. That I’m falling for you, Gabriela Sanderson.’
Her throat closed up. Tears that had pricked at the words I want you here, now began to slide freely down her face.
He cleared his throat. ‘Is that enough?’ Another small cough, and this time she heard the vulnerability in his voice. ‘Too much?’
Grabbing at a tissue, she wiped her eyes. ‘You had me at foot massage.’
‘I did?’ She heard his soft, rueful laughter. ‘Wish I’d known. I might have saved the last part until I thought you were ready to hear it.’
Oh God, the tightness was back again, in her throat, across her chest, around her heart. ‘I liked hearing it.’
A beat of silence, and then she heard him swallow. ‘Then I’m glad I said it.’ Another few seconds of silence. ‘It’s a date, then. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bring an overnight bag. On second thoughts, bring a suitcase. And pack those bikinis you promised me.’
Laughter rippled from her and suddenly she felt light again. Happy. ‘I’ve got my mother staying with me, so overnight might be difficult.’
‘I told you, your mum is welcome. I’d invite her to stay over too, but the only other spare room is more suited to guests of the rodent variety.’ His voice dipped. ‘And only you get to stay in my bed.’
She flushed, feeling like an infatuated teenager. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
After ending the call she walked towards the spare room, finding her mother zipping up her suitcase.
‘I’m not going on holiday.’
A smile spread across her mother’s face. ‘I thought that might be the case.’
‘You’re welcome to stay, if you want. Owen has invited you tomorrow.’
There was a flare of something, surprise, pleasure, hope? But she quickly masked it, so Gabby wasn’t sure. ‘That’s very kind of him but I won’t cramp your style.’
‘Mum.’ She swallowed down her frustration. Her mum … and yes, she was actually thinking of her as a mum, and not a mother. Her mum was trying to do the right thing. What had she once said to Owen, that they’d grown so far apart she wouldn’t know if her mum needed her or not? Well now, she did know. ‘I’d like you to come with me to Owen’s. To spend Christmas Day with me.’
She watched as her mum fidgeted with the strap on the case before raising her eyes to Gabby’s. ‘I’d like that,’ she said softly. ‘Thank you. But I don’t want to get in your way, so I’ll leave after the meal and head home.’
‘You don’t have to.’ The thought of her mother spending Christmas evening alone on the motorway sent a lump to her throat.
Her mother smiled. ‘I’ve not done much to help my daughter over the years. Let me do this. Let me make it easy for you and Owen to explore what it is you have between you.’
The lump grew, making the next words hard to say. ‘We can do that later. Stay. Please.’
Her mother reached out to touch Gabby’s hand. ‘Then thank you. I’ll spend Christmas Day with you and go home on Boxing Day. And perhaps you’ll come and visit me early next year. Or invite me back.’
‘You’re not rushing back to work?’
‘No.’ Her mother dipped her head, removing non-existent fluff from her trousers. ‘I think it’s time I had a change.’ She glanced back up at Gabby. ‘Time to start a new chapter of my life. One I hope will make it easier for my daughter to feature in.’
A little while later, as Gabby unpacked her case, wistfully putting away the sarongs, the T-shirts, the flip-flops, she received a text.
Hope I’m not too late to wish you and Mr Dreamboat a hap
py holiday. Cindy x
A day ago, perhaps a few hours ago, her reaction would have been a mixture of frustration and despair. Now she smiled as she replied.
Holiday in the sun ditched. Am going to spend Christmas in Mr Dreamboat’s drafty, half-renovated house with a girl I don’t know, Dreamboat’s father. And my mother! Love Gabby x
A reply pinged straight back. ???????????
Gabby laughed. Long story x
Another reply. But you and Mr Dreamboat are good?
Gabby hesitated. They’d taken a hit, but they were going to come through it. Weren’t they? She settled for: I think so. Will tell you all about it next year. Happy Christmas x.
Cindy’s reply brought another smile to her face. Happy Christmas to you, too. And tell Dreamboat if he doesn’t make sure it’s a happy one for you, I’ll box his ears x
Chapter Twenty-Three
Christmas Day
It wasn’t what he’d planned for Christmas Day, Owen thought ruefully as he sat on his bed and watched Zoe chat away with her mother on Skype. He should have been the one on holiday. Not his ex-girlfriend. Stella was sitting on what had to be her balcony, the white sandy beach behind her taunting him. At least it was the crack of dawn for her, he thought peevishly.
He’d been woken by a small blonde tornado, who’d ripped into his room and bounced on his bed. Then insisted he come and watch her open her presents. No, she hadn’t wanted breakfast first. No, he couldn’t make himself a coffee. It was Christmas morning and she needed to open her presents. Now.
The following few hours had been spent admiring the pictures she’d coloured with her new pen set, helping her set up the camera he’d bought her (waterproof, drop-proof, idiot-proof) and holding her hand as she’d gingerly skated down the hall in her new roller blades. While trying not to wince as she’d knocked into the skirting boards he’d laboriously painted a few months ago (he’d have to remember to thank Stella for that gift idea).
A Little Christmas Charm Page 17