Christmas with the Single Dad

by Louisa Heaton

  Perhaps holding on to the grief, on to the day she died, on to the pain was the thing that anchored Sydney in the past? Maybe she was holding herself back? Isolating herself so that she could wallow in her daughter’s memory. Was that why Alastair had moved on? Had he been able to let go of the misery and instead chosen to remember his daughter’s vibrant life, not just her death?

  Stunned, she sat there for a moment, holding the pirate tee shirt and wondering. Her gaze travelled to the other boxes. Books. Toys. Clothes. Was holding on to her daughter like this the thing that was keeping her from moving on? Perhaps keeping her daughter’s things in the attic had kept Olivia trapped in a place that tortured them both.

  I know I have to try to move on...but by letting go of my past will I lose my daughter?

  The thought that maybe she ought to donate some of Olivia’s stuff to a charity shop entered her head, and she immediately stood up straight and stared down at the open box.

  Give her things away?

  No. Surely not. If she gave Olivia’s things away, how on earth would she remember her?

  You’ve remembered her just fine with all this stuff packed away in the attic for four years...

  She let out a breath. Then another. Steadier. It calmed her racing heart. What if she didn’t do it all in one go? What if she just gave away a few pieces? Bit by bit? It might be easier that way. She’d keep the stuff that mattered, though. The onesie. Olivia’s favourite toys—her doll and her teddy bear Baxter. Maybe one or two of her daughter’s favourite books. The last one they’d been reading, for sure.

  Maybe...

  She saw the look on Nathan’s face as he’d left. ‘I’m sorry I upset you...’

  I need to apologise.

  Guilt filled her and she suddenly felt sick. Gripping her stomach, she sat down and clutched the onesie for strength. For inspiration.

  She would have to apologise. Make it up to him. Explain.

  If he even wants to listen.

  But then she thought, He will listen. He was a doctor. He was good at that. And she needed to let him know that she cared.

  As she thought of how she could make it up to him she saw some other boxes, further towards the back of the attic. She frowned, wondering what they were, and, crouching, she shuffled over to them, tore off the tape and opened them up.

  Christmas decorations.

  Perhaps she could show Nathan in more than one way that she was trying to make things right...

  She’d used to love Christmas. Olivia had adored it. What child didn’t? It was a season of great fun and great food, rounded off with a day full of presents.

  She particularly remembered the Christmas before Olivia had died. She’d asked for a bike and Sydney and Alastair had found her a sparkly pink one, with tassels on the handlebars and a basket on the front adorned with plastic flowers.

  Olivia had spent all that Christmas Day peddling up and down on the pathways and around the back garden, her little knees going up and down, biting her bottom lip as she concentrated on her coordination. And then later that day, after they’d all eaten their dinner, pulled crackers, told each other bad jokes and were sitting curled up on the sofa together, Olivia had asked if next Christmas she could have a little brother or sister.

  Sydney’s gaze alighted on the bike, covered by an old brown blanket...

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Olivia would have loved a sibling. A little baby to play with. What would she have made of Anna? No doubt the girls would have been best friends.

  Thinking of Anna made her think of Nathan. She was so very grateful for him coming over today. Offering his olive branch. He had given her a new way of thinking. And how had she reacted? Badly! She’d seen it as an attack on her rather than seeing the kind and caring motivation behind it.

  She could see now what he’d been trying to say. And she had missed it completely. It was true. She had been focusing so much on her daughter’s death that she had forgotten to focus on her daughter’s life.

  And Nathan had also told her about his MS. It had been so brave of him to share that with her, and it must have been troubling him for some time. It must have been why he’d been so ill that day she’d looked after Anna. And hadn’t Anna said her daddy was always sick and tired?

  Poor Nathan. But at least he knew what he was fighting. It had a name. It had a treatment plan. She would have to look it up online and see what relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis really was. Especially if—as she was starting to hope—they were going to be involved with each other. It would be good to know what to expect and how to help.

  Nathan had given her a gift. A way to try and lift the burden that she’d been feeling all this time. The guilt. The grief. He’d given her something else to think about. Told her to try and remember Olivia in a different way. A less heartbreaking way.

  Could she do it?

  Maybe she could start by honouring the season...

  Sydney lifted up a box of decorations and began to make her way back down the ladder.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MRS COURTAULD HAD arrived for her appointment. She was there for a blood pressure check, and though she could have made an appointment to see the practice nurse to get it done she’d deliberately made a doctor’s appointment to see Nathan.

  She came into his room, shuffling her feet, and settled down into a chair with a small groan.

  He forced a smile. ‘Mrs Courtauld...how are you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m good, Doctor, thank you. I must say you look a bit glum. I’ve been round the block enough times to know when someone’s pretending to be okay.’

  He laughed. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better. Are you ready for Christmas?’

  Sydney’s rejection of him had hurt terribly. Although he didn’t think she’d rejected him because of his health—unlike Gwyneth—the way she’d thrown him out still stung.

  ‘Of course I am! Not that there’s much preparation for me to do...not with my Alfred gone, God rest his soul. But my son is going to pick me up on Christmas Eve and I’m going to his house to spend the season.’

  ‘Sounds great. Let someone else look after you and do all the work. Why not?’

  ‘I’ve brought those things that you asked for.’ She reached down into her shopping trolley and pulled out a small packet wrapped in a brown paper bag and passed it across the table to him. ‘I asked around and so many people wanted to help. I hope it’s the kind of thing you were after. Surprisingly, there was quite a bit that people had.’

  He peeked inside and smiled. It was rather a lot. More than he could have hoped for. But would it be any good now?

  ‘Perfect. Thank you, Mrs C. I appreciate all the trouble you went to to coordinate this. Now, shall we check your blood pressure?’

  She began to remove her coat. ‘Anything for our Sydney.’ She looked at him slyly. ‘Will you be spending Christmas together, then?’

  He felt his face colour, but smiled anyway, even though he suspected that the chance of his spending Christmas with Sydney had about the same odds as his MS disappearing without trace. Choosing not to answer, he wheeled his chair over to his patient.

  Mrs Courtauld couldn’t know that they’d had a falling out. He’d been trying to help Sydney, but maybe it had come out wrong? He’d been going over and over what he’d said, trying to remember the way he’d said it as well as what he’d said, and he’d got angry at himself.

  His patient rolled up her sleeve, staring at him, assessing him. ‘She deserves some happiness, young Sydney. She’s had her sadness, and she’s paid her dues in that respect. Enough grief to last a thousand lifetimes. It’s her turn to be happy.’ She looked up at him and made him meet her gaze. ‘And you could do that for her, Doctor. You and that little girl of yours.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs C.’

&n
bsp; ‘Call me Elizabeth.’

  He smiled and checked her blood pressure.

  * * *

  A bell rang overhead as Sydney walked into the charity shop. There was only one in Silverdale, and sales from it aided the local hospice. She hadn’t been in for a long time, but was reassured to see a familiar face behind the counter.

  ‘Syd! Long time, no see! How are you?’

  Sydney made her way to the counter with her two bags of clothes. It wasn’t much. But it was a start. ‘Oh, you know. Ambling on with life.’

  ‘We’ve missed seeing you in here. We could always rely on you to come in most weekends, looking for a new book or two.’

  ‘I’m sorry it’s been a while.’ She paused for a moment. She could back out if she wanted to. She didn’t have to hand these items over. ‘I’ve...er...brought in a few things. Children’s clothes.’

  ‘Children’s...? Oh, wait...not Olivia’s?’

  Her cheeks flushed with heat and she nodded. ‘Just one or two outfits. Thought I’d better start sorting, you know.’

  Lisa nodded sadly. ‘Sometimes it’s what we need to do, to move forward.’

  She didn’t want to cry. Wasn’t that what Nathan had said in a roundabout way? And look at how she had treated him for it! Perhaps everyone had been thinking the same, but she’d been the only one not to know.

  ‘It’s all been laundered and pressed. You should be able to put it straight out.’ She placed the two bags on the counter and Lisa peered inside, her fingers touching the fabric of a skirt that Olivia had worn only once, because she’d been going through a growth spurt.

  ‘That’s grand, Syd. I’ll have a sort through and maybe make a window display with them. Launch them with style, eh?’

  Unable to speak, Sydney nodded. Then, blinking back tears, she hurriedly left the shop.

  Outside in the cold air she began to breathe again, sucking in great lungsful of the crisp air and strangely feeling a part of her burden begin to lift.

  It had been a difficult thing to do, but she’d done it. She’d made a start. Hopefully next time it would be easier. But doing it in little instalments was better than trying to get rid of it all in one go. She knew that wasn’t the way for her. Slow and steady would win this race.

  But now she had a really hard thing to do. She had to see Nathan. Apologise. There was one last committee meeting tonight and perhaps there, on neutral ground, she could let him know that she’d been in the wrong. That it would be nice if he could forgive her. But if not...

  She dreaded to think of if not...

  Those hours in the attic—those hours spent sorting her daughter’s clothes for donation—had made her begin to see just how much she had begun to enjoy and even to depend upon Nathan’s friendship.

  She’d been a fool to react so badly.

  She could only hope he would forgive her in a way Alastair had never been able to.

  * * *

  It was the last committee meeting before the big day. The Christmas market and nativity—and the anniversary of Olivia’s death—were just two days away, and this was their last chance to make sure that everything was spick and span and organised correctly. That there were no last-minute hiccups.

  There was palpable excitement in the room, and Miriam had even gone to the trouble to supply them with chocolate biscuits to help fuel their discussion.

  Sydney sat nervously at one end of the table, far from Nathan, anxious to get the opportunity to talk to him and put things right. Her mind buzzed with all the things she needed to say. Wanted to say. She’d hoped she’d have a chance to talk to him before the meeting started, but he’d come in late once again and grabbed his place at the table without looking at her.

  ‘The marquees are all organised and will be delivered tomorrow and erected on-site. Items for the tombola are all sorted, and Mike has promised us the use of his PA and sound system this year.’ Miriam beamed.

  ‘How are we doing regarding the food stalls? Sydney?’

  She perked up at the sound of her name and riffled through her notes, her hands shaking. ‘The WI ladies in the village are in full cake-making mode and most will bring their cakes down in the morning for arrangement. The manageress of The Tea-Total Café has promised us a gingerbread spectacular, whatever that may be.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing. Any entries this year for the Best Pet competition?’

  She nodded. ‘The usual suspects. I’m sure Jim will be hoping to win back the trophy from Gerry this year.’ She smiled, hoping Nathan would look at her so she could catch his eye, but he just kept gazing down at his own notes.

  She could almost feel her heart breaking. Had she hurt him so much with her words the other day that he couldn’t even look at her now? Was she shut out of his world completely? It hurt to think so.

  But then he looked up, glanced at her. ‘Can I enter Lottie?’

  She turned to him and smiled hopefully. ‘You can.’

  Though they were seated two chairs apart, she itched to reach for his hand across the table. To squeeze his fingers. Let him know that she was sorry. That she hadn’t meant what she’d said. That she’d had a knee-jerk reaction because she was frightened of letting go.

  But then he looked away again as he scribbled something into his notes.

  Her heart sank.

  Malcolm filled them in on what was happening with the beer tent, the businesses that had applied to have a stall and sell their wares, who’d be covering first aid and said that licences for closing the road to the council had been approved.

  ‘All that’s left that’s out of our hands is the nativity. Dr Jones, I believe your daughter is going to be the star attraction this year? Any idea how rehearsals are going?’

  ‘Miss Howarth and Anna assure me that it’s all going very well.’

  ‘And I’ve arranged a small area for the donkey and other farm animals to be kept in whilst they’re not performing,’ added Sydney, hoping to join in on his contribution.

  ‘Excellent, excellent!’ Malcolm enthused.

  Once the meeting was over Sydney quickly gathered her things and hurried out into the cold after Nathan. She had to catch up with him. She couldn’t just let him go. Not like this.

  The village had already gone full-force on Christmas decorations. The main street was adorned with fairy lights, criss-crossing from one side to the other, so as people walked along at night it was like being in a sparkly tunnel. Trees were lit and shining bright from people’s homes, and some residents had really gone to town, decorating their gardens and trees into small grottos. It didn’t hurt her any more to see it.

  ‘Nathan!’

  He turned, and when he saw her his face darkened. She saw him glance at the floor.

  Standing in front of him, she waited until he looked up and met her gaze. ‘Thank you for waiting. I...er...really need to apologise to you. For how I reacted—well, overreacted to what you said.’

  He stood staring at her, saying nothing.

  ‘I was so in the wrong. I wasn’t ready to hear what you said, and I thought you were telling me I needed to be over Olivia’s death, and...you weren’t. You were telling me to focus on the good times and not the bad, and that was something completely different to saying, Get over it Sydney!’

  She was wringing her hands, over and over.

  ‘You were trying to help me. Trying to make me see that if I could just try and look at it in another way then it needn’t be so painful. So sad. That it was trapping me in the past—’

  He reached out and steadied her hands, holding them in his. ‘It’s okay.’

  Relieved that he was talking to her, she had to apologise even more. ‘It’s not. I behaved abominably. I kicked you out of my house! You and Anna! I feel so terrible about that...so inhuman and abysmal and—’

&
nbsp; He silenced her with a kiss.

  It was so unexpected. One moment she was pouring her heart out, blurting out her apologies, her regrets for her mistake, hoping he would understand, hoping he would forgive her, and the next his lips were on hers. His glorious lips! Warm and tender and so, so forgiving...

  She could have cried. The beginnings of tears stung her eyes at first, but then ebbed away as the wondrousness of their kiss continued.

  He cradled her face in his hands as he kissed her and he breathed her in. Sydney moaned—a small noise in the back of her throat as she sank against him. This was...amazing! This was what they could have had the other day if he hadn’t thought otherwise and backed off. What they could have had if only she hadn’t got angry or scared or whatever it was she had been, so that tricks were playing in her head.

  Why had they delayed doing this? They fitted so perfectly!

  His tongue was searching out hers as he kissed her deeper and deeper. She almost couldn’t breathe. She’d forgotten how to. All she knew right now was that she was so happy he’d forgiven her. He must have done. Or surely he wouldn’t be kissing her like this.

  And just when she thought she was seeing stars, and that her lungs were about to burst, he broke away from her and stared deeply into her eyes.

  She gazed back into his and saw a depth of raw emotion there, a passion that could no longer be bridled. He wanted her.

  And she him.

  ‘Drive me home,’ she said.

  He nodded once and they got into the car.

  * * *

  It didn’t take them long to reach her bedroom. Once inside, their giggles faded fast as they stood for a moment, just looking at each other.

  Had she ever needed to be with a man this much?

  Sydney needed to touch him. Needed to feel his hands upon her. She knew that he would not make the first move unless she showed him that this was what she wanted.

  She reached up and, keeping eye contact, began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

  He sucked in a breath. ‘Sydney...’

  ‘I need you, Nathan.’ She pulled his shirt out from his trousers and then her hands found his belt buckle.