“Night,” he murmurs quickly, reaching for the handle.
“Yeah, night,” I call, watching as he pulls the door open and descends the stairs without looking back.
Chapter 22
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Glenn asks as we gaze up at the waterfall, the spray enveloping us in a gentle mist.
I smile as I lean on the moss covered stone bridge and take a deep breath. Mum and I had spent many an afternoon at weekends (when she wasn’t working, of course), hiking up and down these rocks to watch the famous Aira Force waterfall. But, being here with Glenn and Yogi, although different, is every bit as enjoyable. “Yeah, it is.” I kneel down to Yogi. “And I know someone who’s going to be very tired when he gets home.”
“Don’t you believe it,” Glenn laughs, “Yogi can totally run rings around me.”
I look up at Glenn. “Who said I was talking about Yogi?”
He nods, moving aside to allow a couple of hikers to pass. “Fair enough,” he concedes. “Actually, you’re probably right,” she says with a smile. Nodding towards the hikers, who are already making the strenuous climb up the steep stone steps ahead, he says, “I guess we should probably take a leaf out of their book.”
I sigh; this is the part of the hike I hate because, once you’ve been enticed off the main path, down to this viewpoint to see the falls at their most beautiful, you realise the only way you can get out is by climbing back up, what feels like, a million uneven, rocky steps to the top. Okay, fine, they do have a little area about halfway up where you can pause to catch your breath whilst looking out over the falls, but still…
“I hate this part,” I groan, as I push myself away from the bridge.
“You’re telling me; by the time we get up there, I’ll be ready to drop.”
I laugh. “Please, don’t; I’m going to need you to carry me home!” The words fly out before I realise and, as he holds my gaze, I find myself blushing. Since our near kiss a few days ago, we’ve been careful not to put ourselves in a position where things could get… awkward, for either of us. So, for me to say this… clearly, I’m beginning to feel way too comfortable around him again. Clearing my throat, I gesture towards the steps. “Shall we…?”
Glenn nods, thankfully, ignoring my slip-up. “Yeah, probably best do it now than in the dark.”
“Very true,” I agree, leading the way.
We’ve been out here now for about an hour and, I have to say, the cold is beginning to settle in my bones; I certainly won’t be sad to get home to my central heating and a mug of hot chocolate, I can tell you. As we begin our climb, I find myself wondering if Holly has done as I’d asked and left the tearooms for me to clean up (it was the least I could do for her letting me leave two hours early).
As if by some unspoken agreement, we both pause at the viewing point, leaning against the sturdy metal balcony.
“Geez, I always forget just how hard this part is,” Glenn announces, breathing heavily.
I glance at him and smile. “I know; I think the magic of the falls lull you into forgetting about this climb at the end,” I just about manage to reply, thankful for the respite.
“I think you have a point, there,” he agrees. “Still, I guess we better keep going; only about a thousand more steps to go.”
On reaching the top, we begin our descent down the well-trodden path through the trees, carefully picking our way over rocks and exposed tree roots. As we make our way back towards the entrance, I find myself thinking back to our ‘moment’ a few days ago and can’t help feeling things have changed between us. Is Glenn embarrassed? Does he still accept we are just good friends or does he want something more?
As for me… all it’s managed to do is confuse me; I know I should be glad we didn’t kiss but I can’t help recalling how, in that moment, I had wanted him to kiss me; I had anticipated it, waited for the touch of his lips on mine, wanted it… And, then what…?
I’ve been wondering about the answer to that question every day since and I still haven’t got an answer; I’m not sure I ever will.
It isn’t long before we reach Keldsthwaite and I see something I never thought I’d see (at least, not this side of Christmas, anyway): my dad, my reclusive dad, the man who, as far as I’m aware, has barely stepped foot outside his house for the last three years (at least), is getting out of a car, pausing to chat to the driver, before closing the passenger door and offering a brief wave.
“Jess?”
I barely hear Glenn as I’m too busy staring at my dad as he turns towards his house, opening his gate…
“Jess?” Glenn raises his voice, shaking my arm.
“What?” I snap, glancing at him, the spell finally broken.
“You zoned out for a second there,” he observes.
“Yeah… sorry,” I mutter, looking once more towards my dad’s house. “Sorry, can you just… give me a sec?” I hurry across the road before he can argue, reaching the front gate just as Dad’s putting the key in the lock. “Dad! Hi.”
He turns, the porch light revealing his surprise at seeing me. “Jessica… Jess,” he corrects quietly, as he shuffles towards me.
I smile at his effort, touched that he’s trying. “What’s happened, Dad?” I ask. “Is everything alright?”
Just as he’s about to answer, his attention is drawn to Glenn and Yogi as they arrive at my side.
Glenn grins at me. “Boy, you know how to rush off, don’t you?” he asks, “Yogi wanted to run head long into the road after you.”
“Sorry,” I apologise, guilt surging through me.
“That’s alright,” he says waving away my concerns. “I’m strong enough to handle this beast,” he assures me, running a hand through Yogi’s fur.
“He’s a Newfie, isn’t he?” Dad asks, glancing up at Glenn before reaching over to stroke Yogi.
Glenn laughs. “Yeah, he is.”
“A what?” I ask, looking between them.
“It’s a nickname for the breed,” Dad explains, opening the gate and shooing me away in favour of Yogi (charming!). The dog happily pads forward, lapping up the attention Dad’s giving him. “He’s a beauty,” he says reverently. “What’s his name?”
“Yogi,” Glenn says.
Dad chuckles. “Like the bear,” he murmurs. Nodding towards me, he adds, “Jess used to love Yogi Bear; we used to have it on every day after school.”
“Dad!” I whine, blushing.
He ignores me (of course he does), smiling as he continues. “Of course, her favourite was the little bear… What was his name, Jess?” he asks, looking at me.
I sigh, glancing up at the night sky. “Boo Boo,” I say quietly.
“Boo Boo, that’s the one,” Dad says. Turning back to Glenn, he says, “Well, seeing as my daughter seems to have forgotten her manners, let me introduce myself-”
“Sorry, Dad,” I apologise quickly, eager to jump in. “Dad, this is Glenn Campbell,” I say, gesturing to Glenn, “Glenn, this is my Dad, Thomas.” I watch them shake hands, thinking how surreal this is.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Glenn,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively.
Dad looks at me, his gaze softening. “When I was at the clubhouse tonight, Vinnie, Bob and Albie were telling me you were stepping out with a young man,” he explains.
I groan inwardly. Bloody Vinnie! I need to have a word with him.
Turning his gaze to Glenn, Dad asks, “I assume that’s you?”
Glenn stares at my Dad, caught in his gaze. “Um… I… er…”
“Dad, we’re friends,” I insist quickly, “we’re not ‘stepping out’,” I add, rolling my eyes. “And, honestly, we’re in the twenty first century; no one calls it ‘stepping out’, anymore.”
Dad looks between us for a moment. “Friends, eh?” he asks dubiously. “Well, you’d better both come on in, then,” he says, turning back towards the house.
“No, it’s okay, Dad,” I say quickl
y. “Glenn has to get Yogi home and-”
“Nonsense,” Dad insists, waving my protests away. “Yogi is more than welcome to come in as well; it’s been a long time since this place has seen a dog,” he adds wistfully.
I smile; that’s very true. My childhood dog, Lola, had passed away when I was ten; we had all been so heartbroken that we hadn’t had the heart to get another after her.
“A cup of tea and a mince pie will hit the spot on a night like this, am I right, Glenn?” Dad asks, clearly seeking Glenn’s support.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Mr. Harrison.”
“Call me Thomas, please,” Dad insists, heading back towards the house. “If you’re a friend of my daughter then we will be on a first name basis.”
As Dad’s unlocking the door, I turn to Glenn. “I’m sorry; I really wasn’t expecting him to be like this.”
“I may be old, Jessica, but I’m not deaf,” Dad calls back to me.
“Damn,” I mutter, recalling all the other times he’d caught me out; the man clearly still had ‘It’.
Putting a hand on my arm, Glenn smiles. “Jess, relax; it’s fine. He seems like he’s really trying; just go with it.”
Looking into his eyes, I nod, allowing myself to believe what I’m seeing and hearing: my dad, making an effort.
Squeezing my arm, Glenn smiles. “You okay?”
I nod, very aware of his touch. “I’m okay,” I agree, with a smile.
“Good, because I’m freezing and could do with a cuppa, right now!”
Chapter 23
“So, you never did say where you’ve been,” I point out, watching my dad carefully.
Sitting in his armchair, Dad shrugs, his hand idly playing with the fur on Yogi’s head; apparently, the dog seems to have found a firm friend in my father. “I’m taking up bowls again,” he declares.
“You are?” I look at Glenn, smiling proudly; maybe my coming back was just the jolt Dad needed to get out of the house.
“And you needn’t look so pleased with yourself, young lady,” he says. “It isn’t just thanks to you, you know.” He smiles to himself. “Jackie may have had a few choice words for me; made me realise a few things.”
I lean forward, placing my hand on his arm. “It doesn’t matter what made you take the step,” I say, “the important thing is that you have.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see how it goes,” he mutters.
I nod, sitting back in my chair; I’m just pleased he’s getting out in the world again.
“So, how did you two meet?” Dad asks, looking between Glenn and I.
Glenn laughs. “It was thanks to Yogi, actually,” he says. “Jess was just minding her own business when this guy accosted her.”
“Ruining my favourite hoodie in the process,” I retort.
“Nothing a quick wash didn’t fix,” Glenn points out. “Anyway, she kept trying to keep me at a distance but my charms eventually wore her down.” He winks at me.
“In other words, I got sick of him,” I clarify, prompting my dad to laugh.
“You sound just like your mother did when we first met,” he says quietly, holding my gaze.
I catch my breath at that; since Mum’s passing, Dad’s never said anything like that to me.
“I heard you took her to the Light Switch-on,” Dad says, turning to Glenn.
My head snaps up at that. How did he know that? But then I realise: one of the guys at the club must have told him. Damn gossips!
“Well, I didn’t actually ‘take’ her,” Glenn says, “I just wanted to remind her that Christmas could be fun,” he adds quietly.
Dad says nothing for a moment, just nods thoughtfully. Suddenly, he hauls himself to his feet, startling Yogi in the process. After murmuring a few reassuring words to the dog, he says, “Be back in a tick,” as he heads into the hall.
Once he’s gone, Glenn looks at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “This is all just a bit weird,” I whisper.
“I’m sure it is,” he agrees.
“He just seems so different from how he was a couple of weeks ago.”
Glenn grins. “Maybe Jackie’s tough love gave him something to think about.”
Having been on the receiving end of that, on more than one occasion, myself, I laugh. “You’re probably right,” I agree.
“Right, here we are,” Dad announces, as he re-enters the room, carrying the thing I dread most in the world: the family photo album.
The last time I had seen it, Mum had been busy showing my first ‘official’ boyfriend, Luke Stephens, photos of me running around in my underwear and hosting Teddy Bear Picnics and other horrific scenes from my past.
“Oh no, Dad,” I groan, dropping my head into my hands, “please, you promised to burn that thing.”
“I did no such thing,” he scoffs, dropping back into his chair, Yogi immediately making himself comfortable at his feet. “And, if I had, your mother would have killed me.”
“But Glenn doesn’t want to see pictures of me as a kid,” I insist.
“Doesn’t he?” Glenn asks, his eyes lighting up at the prospect.
“No, he doesn’t,” I growl.
Dad waves his hands towards me. “Relax, I’m not going to show the one of you sleeping in the dog basket.”
Glenn burst out laughing. “You didn’t!”
“I was tired, okay?” I shoot back defensively. “And, for your information, I was eight and the dog was sick and I wanted to keep her company.”
Glenn stifles another laugh. “That doesn’t make it any better.”
Annoyingly, Dad’s smiling at me and I get the feeling he’s pleased he’s embarrassed me; I return his smile because, despite everything, it feels like it used to feel between us: relaxed and fun.
“Actually, I wanted to show you this,” he says, holding out the album to Glenn.
I’m touched when Glenn reaches out, gently taking the album from him; clearly, he understands how much this means to us. I wait, watching Glenn as he chuckles before looking up at me.
“And I thought you hated Christmas jumpers,” he teases.
I’m out of my chair, and across the room, in a heartbeat, desperate to see what picture he’s looking at. I gape as I see my fifteen-year-old self staring back at me, happily smiling at the camera, Mum beside me; we’re both wearing terrible Christmas jumpers: mine is bright red with a cartoon Rudolph on it, while Mum’s is grey with two polar bears wearing Christmas hats. Immediately, my eyes mist over: despite it being nearly twenty years ago, I remember that night like it was yesterday…
“It was the panto,” Dad says quietly, for Glenn’s benefit.
“Yeah… Snow White, I think,” I add, blinking away the tears.
Dad smiles wistfully. “She loved the bloody pantomime; used to drag us all into Keswick every year.”
“What, just you guys?”
I shake my head. “No, we used to take Sofia and Holly, too,” I explain. “But, Sofia had to cry off when she was old enough to work in the pub,” I continue, “not that she minded; she wasn’t a fan, was she?” I say to Dad.
“No; far more interested in her phone than what was happening on stage,” he agrees. “Then Holly had the kids and, when they were old enough, we used to take them with us.”
I smile. “As you can imagine, Amy loved it; Josh… not so much.”
Glenn laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like Josh.”
“God, it’s been ages since I’ve thought of that,” I mutter, taking the album from Glenn and returning to my chair. Sitting down, I touch the photo, wishing Mum were here right now; I want her to see Dad and I trying to talk to each other again, trying to fix what we had lost; I want her to meet Glenn, to see the tearooms…
“So, you see, Glenn, she did like Christmas,” Dad concludes, “and I have the photos to prove it.”
Glenn smiles. “That’s true,” he agrees. He turns to me. “So the next time you try to tell me you hate Christmas, I can just remind you o
f this,” he says smugly.
I shake my head as I realise that, in the space of just an hour, Glenn has somehow found himself an ally in my Dad.
And that makes me happier than I ever thought possible.
“So, you’ll be coming round for dinner on Sunday?” Dad asks for the fifth time in the space of five minutes.
“I’d love to,” Glenn assures him. “I mean, if Jess is cooking…”
“Yeah, I’m still not quite sure how that’s happened,” I mutter; one minute we were talking about the panto and the next, Dad’s offering up my services for Sunday lunch – except this time, he’s promised us a repeat of my toad in the hole.
“It doesn’t matter,” Glenn assures me, “the fact is: it’s happening.”
“Apparently so.” I turn to my dad; this is the moment I’ve been dreading as it’s suddenly occurred to me that I don’t know how to say goodbye to him. Do I hug him? I feel like I could but I’m not sure how he’d react to that; would it be too much, too soon? “Well, I guess we’ll see you Sunday, Dad,” I say, suddenly feeling awkward.
Dad nods. “Indeed you will; looking forward to it.”
That’s a first in a long time.
Stepping closer to me, Dad gives me an awkward hug. “Goodnight, Jess.”
“Yeah, goodnight, Dad,” I say, retuning the hug, just as awkwardly.
Dad turns his attention to Yogi, kneeling down so that he’s now eye level with the dog. “See you Sunday,” he says, ruffling his fur. “And I’ll have a nice pig’s ear waiting for you.”
“Urgh, Dad, please!” I moan, cringing at the thought.
Dad smiles at me as he stands up. “What? It’s not like I’m asking you to eat it,” he jokes.
“Thankfully,” I mutter as I step outside, Yogi following me, ahead of Glenn.
“See you soon, Thomas,” Glenn calls back.
Dad watches until we reach the gate and, as I hear the door shut, I turn to Glenn, grinning happily. “I cannot believe that just happened!” I gush, for once allowing myself to feel excited. “My dad not only invited us both in but he’s starting back at bowls and he’s invited us to dinner on Sunday!” Glenn says nothing; he just smiles as he lets me talk. “Although, the downside is, he has just subjected us all to my cooking.”
All I Want For Christmas (A Sweet, Contemporary Romance) (Romance In The Lakes Book 1) Page 12