by Kate Lattey
We go out to the porch to eat, and everyone sits down except Tabby, who stands on the top step and gazes out over the farm, looking concerned.
“He’ll come in when he gets hungry,” Alec mutters.
“I’ll take him something,” Tabby decides, and goes back into the house, leaving her own plate of food uneaten on the railing. Alec says nothing, but stabs his sausage harder than necessary.
Pip catches my eye. “Dad doesn’t really do Christmas.”
“Why not?”
She shrugs. “Just the way he is.”
Alec shoots her a look, and opens his mouth to speak, then closes it and puts his head down again as Tabby comes out of the house, carrying a plate of food. It looks identical to Alec’s meal, all meat and potatoes.
“No rabbit food, I hope,” Pip says cheerily, trying to break the tension.
“I haven’t been married for twenty years without learning a thing or two, thanks,” Tabby replies with a smile. Alec gets up and goes into the house as Tabby heads out towards the barn, where we can hear tell-tale clattering noises coming from.
“Dad doesn’t eat vegetables,” Pip tells me. “Reckons he’s allergic.”
“Sounds likely.”
She snorts. “Yeah.”
She starts asking me questions about Finn, and what my plans are with her. We’re deep in conversation when Alec comes back out and sits down again, his plate piled high with green salad.
Tabby gets back in time to dish up dessert, then we flop around on the porch, trying to metabolise the vast quantities of food we have just consumed.
“So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Tabby asks me, and I shrug.
“I’m not sure. I guess Dad and I will just hang out.”
“Invite him down for dinner if you want,” she suggests. “The more the merrier, and we’ve got tons of food left over.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for a week!” I tell her.
“Take some with you then,” she insists, and gets to her feet to package it up. “We can’t let him eat beans on toast for Christmas dinner.”
I let Tabby pile leftovers onto a plate for Dad as Pip hauls herself into a sitting position.
“Sure you don’t want to stick around? Alec and I are going to have a mighty game of Scrabble, you could stay and watch him lose.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Scrabble versus Alec hardly sounds like a challenge. I don’t think he can even spell his own name.”
“Hey,” Alec mutters, lying on his back in the hammock with his eyes closed.
“I saw your last History essay,” I tell him. “I think you made your teacher cry.”
“You should stay and take me on then,” Pip urges. “Christmas is so boring after lunch, everyone else falls asleep and I always end up sitting around reading until they wake up.”
“Thanks, but I think it’ll be a good chance for me and Dad to spend some time together,” I tell her honestly. “Just the two of us.”
“When is there ever more than two of you?” Alec asks me, opening one eye curiously.
“Well, you know. We never really talk, or hang out or anything. But he’s home all afternoon, and…it’s Christmas,” I finish lamely. “I feel like it’s the right time to make an effort.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Tabby says, reappearing and presenting me with a plate stacked high with food. “Alec, get up and give Jay a ride home, would you?”
“I’m fine,” I tell them. “It’s a nice afternoon for a walk, and I could use the exercise.”
It doesn’t take long for me to regret that decision. The road has never seemed so long or so uphill, and I’m hot and grumpy by the time I finally turn the corner towards home.
Finally I see our house, with its funny piecemeal cladding and front lawn that’s rapidly becoming a wilderness again, and I start to smile. Until I notice something else, something unexpected, and get a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach that has nothing to do with the vast quantity of food I’ve consumed today.
It’s Nina’s car, parked out the front. I stand and stare at it for a long time, unsure of what to do next. I guess she must have come by to pick up her present, and I wonder how long she’s planning on staying. As I approach the front door I hear voices chattering in the kitchen, and then my senses are assaulted by the smell of cooking food. It makes me feel slightly nauseous, as stuffed full as I already am, and I walk slowly into the kitchen to find every available surface covered in food.
Nina is standing at the stove top, stirring something in a pot, as Dad stands at the bench and chops vegetables. It’s a scene of domestic bliss, and I feel very awkward walking into the middle of it. Chewy is flopped on his bed, not bothering to bark or warn them of my approach, so I clomp loudly into the house and dump Tabby’s offerings on a chair.
Nina sees me first.
“Hello Jay! Merry Christmas.” She’s doing her best to sound sincere, but there’s a trace of guilt in her voice. She shouldn’t be there and we both know it.
“Surprise!” Dad says as he turns around, brandishing a knife in one hand and a carrot in the other. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“About dinner. We’re putting on a real Christmas feast!” He seems really excited, and my nausea builds.
“You said we were having beans on toast.” My voice shakes.
Dad looks confused. “I didn’t think that’s what you actually wanted…”
Of course it’s not! I want to scream at him. I just wanted you. My disappointment and anger washes over me in increasing waves as I fight down the impulse to scream at him for his total lack of understanding. Nina looks from me to my father and back again, suddenly realising the awkwardness of the situation, then starts to speak.
“I didn’t mean to…”
I cut her off quickly, needing to escape.
“It’s fine. Enjoy your meal.” I turn back towards the front door. Maybe I’ll go and play Scrabble with Pip after all.
“Jay, wait…”
“I’m not hungry,” I tell them as I walk out of the house, fighting back my frustration. All I wanted was some quality time with my dad, and Nina has to turn up and try and join our family. We’re barely a family as it is, just the two of us. Only in the last few months have I started to get used to having a father, and now it feels as though he’s being snatched away from me, just as I’ve decided I want him there.
I can hear Dad’s footsteps approaching behind me, but I don’t stop.
“Are you really going to do this?” He sounds annoyed, which only makes me madder at him for not understanding how upset I am. Naturally, he doesn’t notice. “Nina’s been cooking all day.”
“Good for her.”
“Jay, come on. At least come and pull a cracker with us. Nina made them herself!”
“Well isn’t she just perfect? Wow. Maybe you should just marry her and be done with it.” I can hear my voice starting to waver, so I turn and walk away from him. Chewy follows me, whining plaintively. In my frustration, I snap at him too.
“Go away! Leave me alone, stupid dog!”
I aim a half-hearted kick at him which should’ve missed, but I’m too wound up to know what I’m properly doing and it connects with his shoulder, making him stumble and yelp. I feel horrible and immediately stop, ready to apologise and pat him, but Dad just starts yelling at me.
“Hey, don’t take it out on the dog! What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me! This is your fault!” I yell back, way beyond rational thought now and just into the red zone. “Merry Christmas!”
I start running, ignoring the tight, full feeling in my stomach as I head back towards the Harrisons’. And when I get there I find their door wide open, as always, welcoming me back inside. Alec is tussling with puppies in the living room, Tabby is lying on the couch with a book over her face, and Pip is trying to bribe the cat off the top of the tallboy with pieces of sausage.
It’s like I never left.
It’s almost midnight when Alec starts walking me home. The sky is black but there’s a big full moon lighting the road in front of us, and we walk in companionable silence. We’ve both had a wee bit of wine and are feeling generally merry, but as I get closer to my house, I feel myself starting to get angry again.
“She’d better be gone by now.”
Alec keeps walking. “That’s the Christmas spirit.”
“Oh shut up.”
“You shut up,” he snaps back. “Stop being such a baby. Your dad is allowed to have friends.”
“Yeah, but he shouldn’t spring them on me like that,” I argue. “If he’d told me earlier that she was coming, I would’ve-” I pause, unsure exactly what I would’ve done.
“Welcomed her with open arms?” Alec suggests, knowing that’s not what I was going to say.
I think for a moment. “I would’ve told him to make her stay home. It’s our first Christmas together, just us, and he invited someone else without even asking me. Christmas is supposed to be for families.”
“So why did you run out on yours?” Alec asks me. “You messed up your own Christmas, so don’t go blaming your Dad. If you’d just got over yourself and sucked it up, you could’ve had a nice time.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with perfect Nina and her perfect cooking and all around perfectness.”
Alec rolls his eyes and says nothing. We walk in silence for a few minutes before he speaks again.
“Did you ever stop to wonder why Nina chose to spend Christmas with you and your dad instead of with her own family?”
I shrug. “I don’t particularly care why.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know Jay, one of these days you’re going to realise that the world doesn’t actually revolve around you.”
Alec turns and walks away from me, back towards his home. I stand in the middle of the road, momentarily torn between which direction to go in, then I break into a run.
“Wait!”
He stops and turns, and I run up to him and throw my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me.”
He hugs me back. “I’m not mad at you.”
I sniff and let him go. “Okay good. That would be a crappy way to end Christmas.”
Alec looks at his watch, pressing the button to light up the dial. “You’ve got eight minutes left to say the same thing to your Dad.”
I sigh. “Okay.” I scuff the ground with my toe. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”
Alec shrugs. “Only one way to find out.” He lifts my chin with his index finger until I’m looking him in the eye. “Chin up.”
I smile. We stand still for a moment in the pale moonlight, and for the first time, I see Alec as someone else might. Not as my friend, or like a brother, but as the light catches the side of his face, and his eyes fix on mine, he looks like a different person. My heart thumps. Then the moon shifts behind a cloud, and I take a step backwards.
“Seven minutes,” he reminds me, and I nod.
“Good night!” I call as I turn and start running up the road towards home. “And Merry Christmas!”
The house is dark when I get home, and I’m relieved to see that Nina’s car has gone. I try to sneak up to the house quietly, but Chewy hears me coming and barks as I approach the front door. My stealth thwarted, I open the door and walk into the room, whispering at him to hush. He scuttles back to his bed and lies down, his eyes fixed on me.
I look at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to midnight. I hesitate in front of Dad’s closed bedroom door, wondering if I should wait until the morning to talk to him. I don’t want to wake him up, and he’s probably still mad at me. Maybe tomorrow would be better, when we’ve both had time to simmer down.
I hear Alec’s voice in my head, as though he’s standing right behind me, knowing exactly what he’d say to that. Suck it up, buttercup.
I take a breath and tap on Dad’s bedroom door. “Dad?” At first nothing, then he murmurs something. I can’t hear him properly, so I open the door a crack and slide my head in. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
I step into the room as he clicks on the light beside his bed and sits up. I’ve barely spent any time in Dad’s bedroom, and I walk in feeling a little awkward. He’s tidied it up since the last time he left the door open. I bet he did it for Nina. I clench my jaw, then force myself to get over it.
“What’s up?” He looks apprehensive but hopeful and I try to smile at him.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” I force the words out, trying to make them sound genuine. I really do mean what I’m saying, but sometimes my voice betrays me and my words come out sounding fake.
I sit down on the side of his bed and try really hard to look at him, to make sure that he knows I mean it. “I overreacted and I suck.”
Dad puts his hand on top of mine. “You don’t suck.”
“Sometimes I do,” I tell him. “And I’m sorry that I ruined Christmas.” There’s a crack in the door frame and I stare intently at it as I talk, unable to meet Dad’s eyes. “It’s just that it’s my first Christmas without Mum, and that’s hard enough to deal with but then you brought Nina in like…like you didn’t want it to be just us.” I keep my eyes fixed on the crack and keep talking. “Like maybe I wasn’t enough for you.”
“Oh Jay.” Dad slides out from under the covers and moves to sit next to me on the bed. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and hugs me to him. “That’s not it at all. You seemed so excited about Christmas, and kept talking about the big Christmas dinners you always had with all the trimmings, and you know what my cooking skills are like, but I thought I’d ask Nina if she could help me whip something up as a surprise, so you could have a proper Christmas meal, like you’re used to. I wasn’t trying to push you away.”
I close my eyes and rest my head on Dad’s shoulder. Tears creep out from under my eyelids and slide down my face. Dad pats my head.
“We’ve got to get better at talking to each other.”
I nod, sniffling. “And I’ve got to stop overreacting all the time.”
“I’m getting used to it,” Dad teases me.
“I’m trying to be better.”
“I know.”
“I miss her so much.”
“I know.” Dad hugs me tighter. “Maybe next year you can go back to England for Christmas. Spend it with your grandparents.”
I shake my head. “I’d rather be here.” And it’s true – I’ve known that for a while now. But from the way Dad hugs me extra tight when I say it, I realise that he doesn’t always realise that I feel that way.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He gives me another squeeze, then lets go. “And now it’s time for bed.”
“Okay.” I get to my feet and head towards the door. Dad slides back under his blankets and switches off the lamp as I start to close the door behind me, then slip my head back into the room. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas Jay.”
“I love you.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Love you too, mate.”
I’m smiling too as I slip upstairs to my room, and I sleep better that night than I have in a really long time.
CHAPTER NINE
Two days later, I walk down to the Harrisons’ farm to find Alec cantering Jack in schooling circles in the front paddock. Magpie trots up the rutted driveway to greet me, and I rub her head. No puppies bound alongside her anymore, and I remember that Alec said the last one was going to his new home on Boxing Day. I still wish we could’ve had one, but they’d been sold within days of being born, off to farm homes where they’d spend their lives herding sheep and living outside, chained up in kennels. Alec would scoff at me for feeling sorry for them, saying they’re working dogs and need to be treated as such, but I still refuse to believe that they wouldn’t rather be inside in front of the fire on a cold winter’s night.
I lean on the fence a
nd watch Alec ride for a moment, admiring the thick muscles that bunch across Jack’s solid hindquarters as he transitions back to a ground-covering trot. Foam flecks his chest as he froths at the bit, his large ears set back in disgust at being made to circle. He notices me before his rider does and uses my presence as an excuse to spook wildly, his hooves skittering sideways across the dry grass. Alec barely moves in the saddle, just mutters at his pony as he turns his head and nods to me.
“Morning.”
“Are you schooling?” I tease him. “I didn’t think you knew how!”
“Ha ha.” He trots Jack over to me, ignoring the black pony’s insistence that I’m far too terrifying to approach. “I got the hard word on the phone last night, so I thought I should at least make an effort. Not that it’s having much effect.”
I look at him blankly. “The hard word from who?”
“Eleanor. They rang last night about the team for Cambridge.”
“Oh.” My heart plummets into my stomach as I realise what that means. He made it – and I didn’t. “You and Sarah?”
“Yeah.” He kicks Jack closer and the pony grudgingly moves up. I hold out a piece of apple, and Jack rushes forward to snatch it from me, fake terror forgotten. “And Tegan as reserve. Sorry.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer of disappointment, but I try my best to hide it as Jack slobbers apple across my palm. “Not your fault.”
“Sucks for you though,” Alec replies. “I know how much you wanted it.”
I shrug. “Didn’t deserve it, I guess. It’s fine. Maybe next year.”
I look away from Alec’s pitying expression at Finn, who’s trying her best to hide behind Trixie under the macrocarpa tree. I’ve never felt less like riding my pony, and I’m pretty certain that she’d rather have me leave her alone too.
“Come for a ride up the logging road,” Alec suggests, giving Jack a slap on the neck as the stocky gelding sidles impatiently, wanting to be moving again. “Clear out the cobwebs a bit. We’ll take Magpie along with, might cheer her up a bit.”