‘Need a hand with that?’ Mia reached over to take the necklace from her, and fastened it easily around her neck. She paused to squeeze her shoulder in silent support, before turning her attention back to everyone else as a fresh round of laughter rose. Her dad held up a ‘Senior Moments Workout’ puzzle book, and she was pleased to see him join in with the good-natured teasing from the other older adults.
Luke rested his back against her knees and she leaned forward over his shoulder to press a kiss to his cheek, her eyes catching the wording on the bright T-shirt he’d tugged on over the top of his polo shirt. She couldn’t help but laugh as he tipped his head back to meet her eyes, a grin of pride on his face as he patted the ‘It’s hard to be this pretty’ motto emblazoned on his chest. ‘Suits you,’ she said, leaning further forward to press a kiss to his lips.
‘Watch this, it’s going to be good.’ He nodded towards where Madeline had begun unwrapping her gift.
‘Cheeky buggers!’ Mads declared as she brandished a junior detective’s kit first at Daniel, then at Aaron. ‘I know this has to be one of you two!’
‘It’s to help with your meddling, Mads. Every interfering old bag needs one!’ Aaron grinned, totally blowing his cover.
‘You should have got me some wings, like Charlie,’ she sniffed. ‘Everyone knows I’m a fairy godmother.’
The ring nestled on Nee’s breastbone, warming in moments to match the temperature of her skin. It felt good, a solid, reassuring weight, and she hoped she’d find the courage to return it to where it rightfully belonged before too much longer.
Chapter Eleven
Aaron lowered himself onto his back with a sigh, tucking one arm behind his head as he settled deeper against his pillow. Kiki pressed her cheek against his other arm, and he lifted it up to let her cuddle in next to him. The novelty of sharing a bed with her still hadn’t worn off, and he counted his blessings as the events of the past few months drifted through his mind. So many changes, so many highs and lows, it was hard to equate his life now to where he’d been at the beginning of the year. Icy-cold toes slid under his calf, and he winced before settling his leg more heavily on Kiki’s freezing feet. It didn’t matter how hot or cold the weather was, they were always bloody cold.
Their aim of getting the children to bed at a decent hour had been an abject failure, and it had taken Kiki threatening to cancel Father Christmas’s visit to get them scampering up the stairs. While she sat guard on the landing, he’d spent the next hour retrieving their presents from various high cupboards and other hiding places. Another stack waited beneath the tree at Butterfly Cove, but they’d agreed Christmas morning would just be the four of them. Five, he corrected himself, because Tigger had amassed an impressive collection of gifts too.
Turning his head to brush a kiss on Kiki’s temple, he savoured the moment of blissful peace. Squeak, squeak, squeak. He closed his eyes. ‘When I find out which Secret Santa gave the dog that bloody chew toy, I’m going to kill them.’
Kiki huffed a laugh against his ear. ‘If you weren’t such a soft touch, his bed would be down in the kitchen where it belongs, and you wouldn’t be able to hear it.’ It had surprised them both to discover she was the natural disciplinarian of the two. Whether it was indulging the children with an extra bedtime story, or giving in to the piteous whines of the puppy if he left him alone for more than thirty seconds, Aaron Spenser had come to accept he was as soft as a marshmallow. He tried hard to stick to the rules and routines Kiki laid down in the hopes of running a smooth household, but he was so bloody happy, he’d give them anything they asked for – her above all.
No, his life was nothing like he could have imagined it being this time last year. At thirty, he’d assumed his future had been mapped out, that he’d at least settled on certain key fundamentals. A career and a life in the city, to be shared with a wife at some point, who was equally focused on her own job. Nice holidays, dinners out, pleasant socialising with friends. No kids, no pets, nothing difficult. Yet here he was, working for himself in a country cottage full of laughter, noise and messy chaos, thinking life couldn’t get much more perfect. Unless…
‘I saw the look on your face when you were watching Mia earlier.’ Such tenderness and sympathy she’d shown when her sister had dashed from the room, face a worrying shade of green. But it had been more than that. Daniel had said something to his wife as he rubbed her still-flat belly and an expression of such wistfulness had crossed Kiki’s features it had set his own thoughts whirling.
‘We talked about it, Aaron. Agreed we’re happy as we are.’ Although their room was pitch-black, he felt her sit up as though to stare at him. ‘Didn’t we?’
‘We did, and I am, absolutely. All I’m saying is, if you wanted to revisit the discussion at some point in the future, I’d be amenable to the idea.’
‘You’re not just saying that for me, are you? If we did… oh, God, I can’t believe we’re even thinking about it… if we did decide to have a baby in the future, then I need you to be one hundred per cent behind the idea.’
Just hearing her say the word baby sent a frisson of excitement and abject terror running through him. It would add to the noise, the constant compromise of running their house together, never mind the mess! But how much more joy and laughter would it also bring beneath the cosy thatch of their roof? The smile on his face grew so wide, his cheeks ached.
Using the arm still around her back, he urged her back down until she leaned against his chest once more. ‘Whatever you want, my darling love, I’m right there with you. Now, before we consider actually making a baby, I think we should get a bit more practice in first.’ He captured her delicious giggle in his mouth, and all thoughts of the future dissipated in the hazy heat of here and now and her.
Aaron blinked at the red digits on the bedside clock cheerily informing him the time was five a.m. and bit back a groan. Tigger scratched at the door again, adding the whine which usually signalled his need to go outside. Wincing at the freezing cold air, he hurried into the T-shirt and jogging bottoms that served as pyjamas and tiptoed across the room, trying not to wake Kiki. He scooped the puppy into his arms, receiving an enthusiastic tongue bath for his pains, and inched out of the bedroom. His hand paused in the act of fumbling for the landing light switch as he spotted a stream of light from under Matty’s bedroom door. After a quick tap on the frame, he opened the door to find both children tucked under the covers, the contents of the stockings from the ends of their beds strewn across the covers. Matty was reading aloud from a fairy picture book Aaron had spotted the week before and added to Charlie’s stocking. The telltale empty wrappers of at least two items from a chocolate selection box were also evident.
‘Merry Christmas, early birds.’ Aaron kept his voice pitched low, and held a finger to his lips when Charlie bounced up and opened her mouth. ‘Mummy’s still sleeping.’
A grave expression crossed the little girl’s face. ‘She needs her beauty sleep,’ she whispered.
Trying not to laugh, he crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to squash a Batman action figure. ‘Where did you hear that saying, poppet?’
Charlie beamed at him. ‘Grandad Brian said the same thing to Nanny-Cat last night.’ Somewhere in the selection of suitable titles for his dad and step-mum, Cathy’s had been abbreviated to Nanny-Cat. She didn’t seem bothered about it, so they’d let it go. ‘She’s pretty, but Mummy is beautiful so she has to sleep more.’ Such a perfect piece of child logic.
Reaching out his thumb, he wiped a smudge of chocolate off her cheek. ‘I’m going to let Tigger out and get you two a glass of milk to wash those sweets down with.’ Worry flickered in the children’s eyes, and he cursed himself for his clumsiness. They were still so fragile, Matty especially was always too quick to assume he’d done something wrong. ‘If no one’s eaten the Crunchie then save it for me, okay?’
The little boy rewarded him with a shy smile, then pulled a face. ‘No one likes Crunchie’s,
you’re weird.’
Relieved to see them happy once more, he left the room to the sounds of them whispering ‘weird’ to each other and giggling. He made sure to close the door in hopes the rising volume wouldn’t carry down the hallway to Kiki, then negotiated his way through the safety gate and down the stairs. Charlie was probably old enough now not to need it, but it gave him piece of mind to know neither of the children would take a tumble if they got up in the night for any reason. His bare toes hit the tiled hallway, and he cursed, flipped on the light and shoved his feet into a pair of trainers sitting by the front door. Perhaps he’d get lucky and Father Christmas would bring him some slippers this year. ‘Aaron, mate, you’re an old man,’ he said to himself with a laugh, and the puppy yapped as though in agreement. ‘Cheeky sod. Let’s get you outside before we’re both sorry.’
Unfortunately for them both, the storm which had blown in the night before showed no signs of abating. The heavy thatch on the cottage roof had muffled the sound, but man and dog surveyed the lashing rain outside with matching expressions of disgust. Tigger sat down on the inside mat, and Aaron crouched down, bracing himself for another battle of wills. ‘The sooner you go, the sooner we can both get back upstairs in the warm.’
The puppy turned his head away and began chewing on his tail, making it clear there was no debate to be had. ‘Spoiled little bastard,’ Aaron muttered and stamped off to retrieve a golf umbrella from the hooks by the front door. ‘I’m going to smash that mug, you know? I love my bloody dog, indeed. I should just chuck you out there and be done with it.’ His harsh words fooled no one, least of all the puppy, who waited until Aaron was standing outside with the umbrella open before he trotted out and took care of business beneath his own personal shelter.
Juggling the umbrella and a plastic bag proved impossible, so Aaron had no choice but to abandon it while he cleaned up after the dog, who had retreated to his spot on the kitchen mat, tail wagging like he hadn’t a care in the world. His T-shirt was soaked in seconds, the icy rain stinging his neck worse even than Kiki’s feet finding his in the middle of the night. Still muttering, he stripped it off, found a dry one in the ironing basket and poured a few biscuits into the dog’s bowl after washing his hands.
Armed with a tray bearing three glasses of milk, dog at his heels, Aaron made his way back upstairs. The door to their room remained closed, so he left Kiki to sleep and let himself back into Matty’s room. The presents had been cleared to one side of the bed, and the children had arranged themselves, and the pillows, along the long side of the mattress resting against the wall. He handed them each a glass and Matty lifted the edge of the quilt. ‘We made a space for you too.’ Jesus. Every time he believed it wasn’t possible to love them more, they did something to prove him wrong.
Overwhelmed for a moment, he turned away to place the tray on the floor, taking the opportunity to swipe at the moisture filling his eyes. With a deep breath, he picked up his own glass and climbed into the bed, only to have Charlie thrust her milk into his free hand and clamber over his legs so he had to shuffle over and take the spot in between them. Taking back her drink, she picked up her new fairy book and dropped it in his lap. ‘Your turn to read!’
He glanced at Matty, who seemed content enough playing with his action figures. ‘All right, little man?’
The boy grinned up at him, then nodded. ‘I’m all right.’ He paused Superman mid-swoop to hand Aaron a shiny gold chocolate bar. ‘We saved this for you. Merry Christmas, Aaron.’
‘Merry Christmas, bud.’
Less than two hours after ‘a proper breakfast’, as Kiki had sternly put it after their chocolate feast, and the mad excitement of the first round of present opening, they were somehow showered, dressed and pulling up outside Butterfly House. The rain eased off enough for them to make a mad dash into the kitchen where they found Mia, still in her ratty old tartan dressing gown, the only occupant. ‘Oh, hello! Look at you in all your finery. You’ve put me quite to shame.’
Crouching down, Mia accepted hugs and kisses from the children. ‘Hello, my darlings. Did you get lots of wonderful things from Father Christmas? Uncle Daniel should be finished hogging the shower, so I can go up and get dressed. Why don’t you come with me, and you can tell me what you got.’ She herded the children towards the door, pausing on the threshold to call back to her sister. ‘Come with us, Kiki Dee. I’m having a wardrobe crisis and can’t decide between the green or the blue.’
‘I thought you’d decided on the blue?’ Kiki followed her sister, then popped her head back around the door a couple of seconds later. ‘Will you boys be all right on your own?’
Aaron glanced down at the puppy at his feet, who’d not only been coaxed into a bright-red jacket, but seemed inordinately pleased with it. ‘What do you say, Tigger? Reckon we can manage unsupervised, don’t you?’
Kiki laughed. ‘I find that highly unlikely.’ She blew a kiss, aimed more at the dog than himself, and disappeared again.
Hands in his pockets, Aaron was strolling towards the main lounge, when the open door to the dining room caught his eye. Peering in, he found his stepmother, looking chic and festive in a forest-green dress, humming along to carols as she laid the table ready for lunch. Things had been much better between them lately, but they hadn’t spent much time alone together. By design on his part, and hers too, he suspected. Still, he couldn’t exactly walk past without saying something. ‘Morning, Cathy. Happy Christmas.’
Startled, she raised the hand clutching a pile of napkins to her chest as she looked up. A familiar bracelet glittered on her wrist, and he felt his throat tighten as he spotted that the gold bead he’d bought for her birthday had been added to the others. ‘Oh, Aaron, you made me jump! I didn’t hear you arrive.’ She nodded at the tablet on the table next to her, the source of the beautiful music. ‘I’m just catching up on Carols from King’s as we missed it last night.’
The service had always been part of their holiday preparations at home, a brief lull in the general chaos created by two rowdy boys. Drawn by the angelic sounds of the choir, he entered the room to stand next to her and watch the screen for a moment or two. ‘The Holly and the Ivy’ had always been a particular favourite of his. ‘Lovely,’ he said, as the music drew to a close. Glancing at Cathy, he nudged her arm gently. ‘Nearly as lovely as you look this morning.’
‘Oh.’ She raised a hand to touch the smooth waves of her hair, a faint blush on her cheek. ‘Thank you, and you’re looking very handsome.’ Reaching up, she straightened the collar on his shirt, then patted his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched him voluntarily, certainly not in an affectionate way. ‘You look more like your father every day.’ It was a huge concession, because she’d only ever been able to look at him and see the ghost of his dead mother haunting her, though her relationship with Aaron’s dad had been entirely platonic whilst Trisha had been alive. Another tiny step along their path to reconciliation.
He coughed to clear the lump in his throat. ‘Speaking of Dad, where is he?’
Cathy busied herself with the table once again. ‘Oh, he’s hiding away with George and the newspapers somewhere. No sign of your brother yet.’
Given her tone, he decided to ignore the topic of Luke; there was no missing that she’d made no mention of Nee. Given how much Cathy doted on her son, any romantic choice of Luke’s would face an uphill battle for her approval. Throw in the drama of their secret wedding and immediate break-up, and he didn’t fancy Nee’s chances much. Taking a handful of the holly-covered napkins, Aaron moved around the other side of the long table and laid them across the empty plates, copying the way Cathy had placed the others. ‘Dad and George seem to be getting on well.’
‘Yes, he’s a very pleasant man. Everyone’s been very welcoming.’ There was a slight catch in her voice, and he stopped to study her. Even with her skilful, subtle make-up, there was no disguising the signs of strain around her eyes and mouth.
Taking a breath
, he forced himself to make his own concession. ‘Are you having a nice time? I know we’ve thrown you in at the deep end with a load of strangers. You can always come and stay with us, if you’d prefer.’
After placing the wine glass she’d been polishing down, she met his eyes and smiled. ‘I’m fine. A bit overwhelmed with all the new faces yesterday, but Mia couldn’t have been kinder. Our room is beautiful, and there’s plenty of quiet spots to escape to if I need a break.’
He laughed. ‘You won’t find many of those at ours, that’s for sure! Which room are you in?’
‘Oh, the lovely beach-themed one. Mia tells me we should be able to see the ocean from the window, but no such luck.’ They both turned glum faces towards the thick, drizzly rain outside the patio doors.
‘It’s supposed to clear up tomorrow.’ He hoped so, because too many days cooped up would test even the calmest of temperaments. ‘The cove is fantastic, a real haven. It’ll be good to get out and get some fresh air.’
She nodded. ‘And walk off a few calories too. Mia certainly knows how to put on a good spread.’
They continued to set the table; Cathy handed him a box of luxury crackers and they worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Aaron glanced around to check on the dog, finding him curled up on the tiles next to the fireplace. A pile of logs and greenery sat in the hearth, but for decorative purposes only. The central heating would be more than enough, especially once everyone was packed in here around the table.
Placing the last cracker down, Aaron stepped back and let Cathy add the finishing touches – bright-red tealights in clear glass holders around a central white pillar candle. ‘It looks fab.’
She smiled. ‘It’s the least I could do to help.’ Turning from the table, her smile dropped and she stared down at her clasped hands. ‘So, what do you think about it all?’
Christmas at Butterfly Cove Page 12