Too Close to Home

by Susan Lewis

  “Daddy! Daddy!” the twins yelped, and immediately dashed to throw themselves at him.

  “We weren’t expecting you for at least another hour,” Jenna commented, putting down her fork as she got up too.

  “Dad! I came in third in spelling,” Josh shouted out proudly.

  Jack beamed. “Way to go, little man.” He balanced a twin on each arm as he kissed Jenna.

  Catching the beer on his breath, her eyebrows arched knowingly.

  “It was just the one,” he promised, “but I’ll have another now I’m home.”

  “Another what?” Flora asked, rubbing her fingers over his stubbly chin.

  “Beer,” he growled, pretending to bite her.

  “I’ll get it! I’ll get it!” Wills insisted, sliding to the floor.

  “Grandma’s gone to t’ai chi,” Flora informed him.

  His eyes sparkled with laughter. “Has she now? I expect she’ll be very good at it.”

  “We do t’ai chi in school sometimes,” Josh announced. “It’s really slow, so Grandma should be OK. Oh yes, and it’s good for breathing, and she needs to breathe at her age, doesn’t she?”

  Laughing as he went through to drop a kiss on Josh’s head, Jack said, “She certainly does. And where’s Paige?”

  “Where she always is,” Josh complained, “upstairs in her room.”

  “We’ve called her,” Flora told him, “but she’s ignoring us. I started on a new reading book at school today.”

  “You did? What’s it called?”

  “Um…oh yes, I know. A Wee Bit of Trouble.”

  His eyes rounded with amazement. “You mean they’ve written a book about you?”

  Flora squealed with laughter and flung her arms round his neck. “I’m not trouble,” she insisted.

  “Yes you are,” Wills assured her, bringing a beer for his father. “I finished my book too, Dad, and I’m already on page three of my next one. And I did a painting for Mum, didn’t I, Mum?”

  “You did, and it’s your best one yet,” she replied. “A lovely abstract. I think we’ll put it up in our office.”

  “I’m going to do a painting for Mum too,” Flora declared. “Mine will be of Waffle.”

  Hearing his name, Waffle lifted his head and wagged his tail.

  “Has anyone fed you tonight?” Jack wanted to know.

  As though understanding, Waffle got to his feet and wagged a little harder.

  “His paw’s nearly better now,” Wills informed him. “He can probably take the boot off next week.”

  “Has anyone fed him?” Jenna asked, looking around.

  “Paige might have,” Josh offered. “She usually does.”

  “Go and check with her,” Jenna instructed. “And tell her Dad’s home, so she has to come down for tea.”

  “I’ll go,” Flora cried, dashing for the stairs before anyone could beat her to it. She had no competition; the boys were nowhere near as interested in what might be going on in Paige’s room as she was.

  “I’m here!” Paige shouted over the landing. “And yes, I’ve fed Waffle. Someone has to or the poor thing would starve.”

  Relieved she’d emerged, no matter what kind of mood she might be in, Jenna called out, “Do you want mash with your lamb chops or chips?”

  “Whatever,” Paige retorted, scooping Flora up as she reached her.

  “Will you tell me your secrets?” Flora whispered in her ear.

  “Only if you’ll tell me yours,” Paige whispered back.

  Flora’s eager nod quickly turned to a frown. “I don’t have any,” she confessed.

  Laughing and hugging her, Paige set her down in the kitchen and regarded her mother.

  “What?” Jenna prompted, raking a healthy helping of mash onto Paige’s plate.

  “Nothing,” Paige replied. “Is that mine?”

  “Yes. The other one’s Dad’s, so you can take that too.”

  “Ah ha, here’s my little beauty queen,” Jack declared, reaching for Paige as she brought his plate.

  “Oh, Dad,” she groaned. “I am so not a beauty queen.”

  “Now, that’s just where you’re wrong. How can you not be when you look just like your mother?”

  “She’s ugly,” Josh muttered.

  Paige turned to Jenna. “Is he talking about you or me?” she demanded.

  “You!” Josh shouted.

  “She’s not ugly, she’s beautiful,” Jenna admonished.

  “How can she not be beautiful when I already said she looks just like her mother?” Jack added.

  Paige rolled her eyes. “He is sooo corny. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

  “It’s hard, but I manage,” Jenna admitted.

  “Dad?” Josh said, drawing out the word. “What’s a condom?”

  “What?” Paige shrieked. “How do you know about things like that?”

  “I heard someone talking about them in school.”

  “But you’re only eight,” Paige protested, “and anyway we’re eating, so we definitely don’t want to talk about that.”

  Loving the way Jack’s laughter made Paige’s eyes shine, Jenna returned to her own meal just as Josh was saying to Paige, “Everyone’s coming to watch me play football tomorrow. Will you come too?”

  Eyes glued to her mobile, she said, “Can’t. I’m going surfing with my friends.”

  His face fell.

  Seeming to pick up on his disappointment, she added, “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” he said, shrugging.

  “It would mean a lot to him,” Jenna said quietly.

  “Mu-um,” Paige said through her teeth.

  “I know!” Josh cried brightly. “Why don’t we all go surfing after the game? We can meet Paige there. Where are you going?”

  “No way am I going surfing with you lot,” Paige stated firmly.

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  She regarded him as if he were crazy. “You mean apart from all the potential for embarrassment?”

  As Jack and Jenna burst out laughing, Wills said, “Me and Flora can do body boarding, can’t we, Mum? Mum, where’s my board?”

  “In the garage.”

  “Can I go and see it?”

  “When you’ve finished your tea. We had a lovely email from the school today about Paige,” Jenna told Jack. “Apparently Miss Kendrick, the English teacher, is putting Paige’s short essay about daffodils in the school magazine.”

  Jack’s eyes lit up. “That’s marvelous,” he declared. “I’ve told you before, you’re following in your mother’s footsteps with your literary talent.”

  “My essay’s hardly in the same league as a novel,” Paige pointed out. “And it’s just dumb putting it in the magazine. No one’ll want to read it.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he responded knowingly. “What’s happening about our tourist video?”

  “It’s my video, and I’m still editing it. I only have two ICT lessons a week, so it won’t be ready for ages.”

  “We’ve got daffodils in our garden,” Wills piped up. “Can we pick some, Mum?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “OK. Mum? What’s a condom?”

  “Don’t tell him, please!” Paige cried, covering her ears.

  As Jack and Jenna laughed again, Wills said, “But I have to know or I won’t ever learn.”

  “It’s something people use when they’re making babies to stop them catching diseases,” Josh explained.

  Astounded, Jenna said, “I thought you didn’t know what one was.”

  “And I wouldn’t exactly describe them that way,” Jack added. “What they’re—”

  “No, Dad, don’t, please,” Paige begged. To Wills, she said, “Mum and Dad don’t really know what they are. If they did, there wouldn’t be so many of us.”

  Jack gave a shout of laughter. “Touché, Paige,” he conceded.

  Clearly trying not to laugh, she simply shrugged and carried on texting as she ate.

  “S
o who are you going surfing with?” Jenna ventured as Flora came to sit on her lap.

  “Just some friends,” Paige replied. “You know, Charlotte and everyone.”

  “Which beach are you going to?” Josh asked.

  “No way am I telling you. You’ll turn up.”

  “But we’re not embarrassing, are we, Dad?”

  “We try not to be,” Jack assured him.

  “Can we take Waffle?” Flora asked.

  “Of course. We wouldn’t leave him at home, would we, boy?”

  Closing in for a head rub, Waffle whopped Paige with his tail.

  “You’re Waffle’s favorite,” Flora told Paige.

  “Because I feed him.”

  “So does Dad. He does it most, don’t you, Dad?”

  Jack was reading a message on his own mobile.

  “Dad!” Flora cried.

  “What?”

  “I said—”

  “Sorry, I heard you. I think you’re right, Paige is his favorite.”

  “Is she your favorite too, because she’s the oldest?”

  “We don’t have favorites,” he insisted, which was true, they didn’t, though Jenna did sometimes wonder if Paige might have the edge for Jack.

  “Paige is my favorite,” Flora decided. “And Mummy and you and Josh and Wills and Waffle. Oh, and Grandma.”

  “Speaking of grandmas,” Jenna said, “how was your mother?”

  Jack sighed and put down his phone. “No change. I think she was glad to see me, though.”

  “What’s the matter with Grandma Moore?” Wills asked.

  “She had a stroke,” Jenna reminded him.

  “What’s a stroke?”

  “It happens when blood can’t get through to the brain.”

  “She can’t speak, can she?” Flora asked.

  Jenna shook her head.

  “So how do you know when she’s hungry?”

  “Or when she wants to go to the toilet?” Josh added. “Or what she wants to watch on telly? I wish Flora and Wills would have a stroke so they didn’t always get to watch what they want. I’m never allowed to choose.”

  “Yes you are,” Wills cried. “And anyway, you’ve got your own television.”

  As the predictable row broke out Paige picked up her plate and took it through to the kitchen. To Jenna’s relief she’d managed two-thirds of it, more than she’d got through the past couple of nights.

  “I hope you’re not leaving us,” Jack called after her.

  “I’ve got homework,” Paige replied, keeping her back turned.

  “Please tell me you’re not spending all your time in chat rooms,” Jenna commented, following her out.

  “I go on them, like everyone else,” Paige retorted. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Just as long as you’re not using any sites you know we wouldn’t approve of.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not stupid.”

  Jenna eyed her warily. It was true, Paige wasn’t stupid, but as her mother, Jenna was never going to take anything for granted.

  “Mum, stop looking at me like that,” Paige complained. “I just chat with my friends, and kids from other schools who are studying the same subjects. It’s all perfectly legit.”

  “Make sure it stays that way—and if anyone you don’t know tries to get you to do anything…”

  “It’s cool, OK? I know the rules, I’m not going to let myself be groomed or stalked or anything that you’re thinking. Oh God, will you listen to them? Why do they always have to scream?”

  “Because they’re young. You were once, but now you’ve grown up into a grumpy teenage girl who tries not to laugh at our jokes but can’t really stop herself even when she’s totally embarrassed and wishes we were anyone’s family but hers.”

  “It’s spooky how you read my mind,” Paige informed her. Treating Jenna to an exaggerated smile, she disappeared off upstairs.

  It was much later in the evening, after hot-water bottles had been filled, stories read, and goodnight kisses dished out, that Jack returned to the kitchen to find Jenna checking her to-do list. “Paige seems in a better mood tonight,” he commented, going to put the kettle on.

  Jenna nodded. “Thank goodness. It’s lovely when she laughs, isn’t it? I always feel myself relaxing, which is when I realize how tense she can make me.”

  Coming to fold her in his arms, he said, “You’re a wonderful mother, Jenna Moore. She’s lucky to have you and she knows it.”

  Jenna’s eyes were shining as she gazed into his. “It’s her daddy she loves best,” she told him. “But I don’t suppose I blame her for that.”

  He kissed her deeply, easing her back against the worktop, where they might have gone further had a little voice not called out from the landing. “Mum, Wills said there’s a monster under my bed.”

  By the time Jenna had resettled Flora and returned to the kitchen, Jack had left a note letting her know he’d taken Waffle down to the beach.

  “In the pitch dark?” she demanded when he answered his phone.

  “There’s a moon, and I brought a torch.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t in the pub?”

  “Would you mind if I was?”

  “Only if you were trying to hide it. How long are you going to be?”

  “Another ten minutes, no more.”

  “OK. I’ll open a bottle of wine to drown our sorrows.”

  “What sorrows?”

  “The fact that the Arts Council didn’t increase our grant.”

  “They might still come through,” he insisted, “so open that wine and put a Do Not Disturb sign on the bedroom door.”

  Laughing, she said, “Much notice anyone ever takes of it.”

  As she rang off she reached out to answer the landline.

  “Jen? It’s Marcus here. How are you?”

  “I’m great, thanks,” she replied, feeling her usual warmth for Jack’s younger brother. “How are you?”

  “Pretty good. We’re still planning to visit again in the summer if that’s OK. The kids had a blast the last time we came.”

  “So did ours, and of course it’s OK. We loved having you here.”

  “That’s kind of you to say, but if that new business of yours is up and running by then…”

  “We’ll still want you to come, so don’t think any other way. Jack’s out at the moment, I’m afraid, but you can reach him on the mobile, or I’ll ask him to call when he gets back.”

  “Thanks. I only want to know if he’s still intending to drive up and see Mum tomorrow.”

  Surprised, Jenna said, “He’s just come back from there. Didn’t he tell you he’d changed his plan?”

  “Uh—no, uh, sorry—I…I had no idea. Well, if he’s already seen her, I guess that answers my question.”

  “Would you still like him to call?”

  “No. I mean yes, if he has time.”

  “He always does for you. Give my love to Penny and the kids, won’t you?”

  “Of course. Same goes for all of you.”

  After ringing off she tiptoed up the stairs, emptied the laundry baskets in Josh’s and the twins’ rooms and stood quietly outside Paige’s for a moment, listening to the music inside. It was the same song she’d heard on other occasions, though whether it was coming from the iPod speakers or the computer she had no idea. It hardly mattered. Whoever the singer was, he had a good voice, strong yet mellow, slightly haunting in a way. She wondered if he was the latest teen sensation, or someone Paige knew. So many kids were putting videos and soundtracks online now that it could quite easily be a local lad hoping to make it big.

  She’d ask if it wouldn’t out her as an eavesdropper. Since it would, she tiptoed away. Deciding to forget the laundry for tonight, she went to her own room to start lighting candles. It was a while since she and Jack had made love—either they were too tired, or there was a child in the bed, or she was already asleep by the time he got home. Tonight, however, she was very much in the mood to make it
happen.

  Daffodils have a jaunty exuberance, unlike primroses whose own exuberance is shyly sunny, or roses who can be guilty of a haughty grandeur. Daffodils, being the traditional flower of Wales, are always worn on St. David’s Day and they light highways, byways, woodlands, parks and gardens with the buttery radiance of their smiles throughout the spring months. They seem to say, here I am, winter’s over, love me, pick me, share me, just don’t ignore me.

  Paige couldn’t remember any more than that; she wasn’t even doing very well recalling this first part of the short essay she’d written about a month ago, “In Praise of the Daffodil.”

  Miss Kendrick was mad about the flowers and never stopped going on about them at this time of year, when the whole countryside was covered in them.

  Paige had to admit they were lovely. They had a way of making a person want to appreciate nature—this was something else she’d written in the essay, but she couldn’t think now how she’d made it fit in. It didn’t matter, since no one was about to test her on it; she was just trying to focus her mind on something other than how excited and fearful she was about the day ahead.

  Oliver was definitely going to be there at the beach. Cullum had confirmed it to Charlotte last night. So was Liam. She and Charlotte had been on FaceTime for hours after Cullum’s text, and again this morning as they’d decided how they were going to wear their hair and whether or not they looked fat in their wetsuits.

  They were in Charlotte’s mum’s car now, heading through Burry Green on their way to Llangennith. Paige was in the back, gazing out at the millions of daffs brightening up the route and trying not to feel sick. She had to keep herself calm by thinking about anything but him; unfortunately, she couldn’t think about anything else. She was asking herself a gazillion questions, such as: Would he remember her? Was he hoping she’d come today? Was he going to like the way she’d loosely plaited her hair over one shoulder? Would he think she looked cool and sophisticated, the way the model had in the magazine she’d copied it from? He probably wouldn’t notice her at all. Please God, don’t let me do or say something stupid so I end up making a total prat of myself.

  She’d hardly slept, she was so worked up about this. Making it a thousand times worse was the fact that she’d actually sent him a friend request last night.