4. One of the Family
“Ican’t do Christmas. I cannot stomach it,” Natalie cried.
She held it in all dinner—suppressing her anger and sadness. Natalie wanted to be happy for Paul and Sanne. She loved them and knew they’d be lovely parents. She knew her parents were elated and would never understand her emotions. The jealousy she felt was obscene. It was like something she’d never felt before.
“I cannot do it, Edwin. They’ll be so happy and all that. We’d be miserable and?—”
“Shhh, shhh, baby,” Ed said. “I can’t think.”
“Ed, I need you to be supportive here?—”
“Did it ever occur to you I was in the same fucking boat, Natalie?”
His words cut deep. She sobbed. They pulled into the drive at Frogmore. She slammed the door behind her.
“Nat, please, don’t!”
“Fuck you, Ed. You can’t be cross?—”
“Baby, I’m not. I’m just… I’m sad, too.”
“And that’s fine, but don’t snipe at me!”
Ed looked sad, but all Natalie could feel was outrage. She needed space. She escaped into the house and her bedroom. She locked the door, effectively icing Ed out for the evening. He was never relegated to his room.
“Natalie, please. I am sorry if I sniped. I just…”
“I need a moment, okay? I’ve given you many moments like this. I’ve given you space to feel loss and dismay. I’ve held you and minimised my pain. I’ve tried to stay positive, but… you need to be there for me if I am there for you, Edwin. Just back off. Give me a fucking minute to lick my wounds or I swear, it will get worse!”
He stood on the closet door’s other side, confused, but didn’t attempt to open it.
Ed’s voice was small. “I am sorry. I will give you space, but I’m here if you want to talk, Natalie.”
“I won’t.”
It was the deepest cut. He’d only thrown salt in the wound. It hurt in an unimaginable, raw way. Everything felt so big. The idea of surviving Christmas in a few weeks when they were in the middle of starting their first IVF cycle and gearing up for retrieval was maddening. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t sure either could manage it.
Ed wasdepressed thinking about Natalie’s personal hell but hurt too. They had spent much time apart these past few weeks. Natalie wasn’t one to cry but now regularly burst into tears. Ed wasn’t sure how to help. Getting her period led to an epic meltdown in which she’d gone out flying for hours, flying to Wales to pal around with her old mates on base. He tried not to feel jealous he’d been left behind. He knew containing her made her feel caged and controlled. It would make things worse.
Unexpectedly, the jabs to bring about ovulation brought them closer. Natalie was petrified of needles. It was the most ridiculous thing. The woman was nearly shot down in the field. She could handle anything with lightning-fast reflexes, never breaking a sweat. This frightened her. She cried and couldn’t manage the jabs herself. She pleaded with Ed to help. So, he became the dedicated, calm one. They did jabs at the same time every night. The trouble was that their cycle overlapped with Christmas dinner.
Lucy helped smuggle in the drugs. Bless her for being so good at things. However, they now had to find time after dinner to get lost and do the thing. Family dinner on Christmas Eve was a massive, complicated white-tie affair. Natalie was in a full-fledged evening gown, covered in diamonds and sucked into an impressive set of undergarments. Ed had it easier. He was only dealing with sneaking to the kitchen and meeting her at the rendezvous point—a sitting room on the second floor.
It was all clandestine.
“We don’t have much time before they are onto us,” Ed entered. “It took longer?—”
Natalie was there, dress off, wearing only a corset and thong. She was in a hurry, but Ed was suddenly in no hurry at all. She was gorgeous. This was suddenly a lot hotter than anticipated.
“Jab me. Just get it over with,” Natalie said.
He sniggered.
“Stop that. I didn’t mean in a sexy way, Edwin!”
“Pull down your knickers a bit. I must get you right in the belly,” Ed said.
“Oh, pull down my knickers? Really?”
“Stop. I’m already wanting to do a lot more than stick you with a needle, Natalie.”
“Oh, come on, Edwin,” Natalie chuckled, eyes closed. “You can’t be that desperate.”
“If you saw yourself right now, you’d be desperate, too.” Ed stuck her with the needle.
It was somehow both terrifying and satisfying. He finally felt like he could do something to help her. And, unlike Natalie, he had no fear of needles. He’d given himself far too many B-12 and Vitamin E injections in his time.
“Well, they already think we’re up here shagging,” Natalie said as he capped the needle.
“Natalie, I don’t have a condom and they said?—”
“I know, I know,” Natalie sighed.
Still, she kissed him. And as she did, Ed wanted to throw caution to the wind.
Natalie took the syringe out of his hand and set it on the table to the right of the couch. Then, to his great surprise, she dropped to her knees.
“Natalie, you shouldn”t?—”
“You’re already hard. I’m doing you a favour, darling.”
It felt unbelievably good. Natalie gave enthusiastic blowjobs regularly when they weren’t trying to have a baby. However, all sex had become procreative. They only went through the motions. It was no longer as wild or adventurous as before they hit this wall. She would occasionally pull away and look up, working his shaft with her left hand, he could see a sly smile and all of her cleavage on full display. She was gorgeous.
It was all fantasy and exactly what he needed. Ed settled in, leaning into how lovely her mouth felt on his cock. She was so good. She gave over to him as much as he gave to her. And her willingness to give rather than be selfish was always so appealing. She may have worn the trousers in almost every aspect of their relationship, but Natalie loved to hand over control and serve him. Ed felt amazing, he wanted to pull her hair, but knew not to touch it. They still had to look presentable after this.
“Oh, fuck, Nat, I’m going to cum if you keep at it.”
She didn’t pull away. She sped up. She wasn’t bothered. Her mouth felt so good. It was inevitable. He wasn’t going to last long. Ed held onto her shoulders as he came hard.
“Fuck!”
Natalie looked up, satisfied. She wiped her mouth slightly, walking casually over to the mirror to make sure her makeup was fine. It only made the thing more wonderful. She’d done it for him. She didn’t even mind it one bit.
“That was brilliant. I could?—”
“You’ll make it up to me in spades later,” Natalie turned. “I know. But I figured you deserved it for being such a wonderful person and sticking me with needles.”
Ed pulled himself together. “I promised you, baby. I will.”
She smiled slyly. “Now, let’s let them think we were up to no good. Can you go put the stuff back in the kitchen and meet me back down there after our walk of shame? If we are lucky, Lucy will have everyone settled in for carols and we can be distracted.”
Ed kissed her. “Anything you want. Anything at all, Natalie.”
“Good boy,” she stroked his cheek. “God, I love you.”
That hit Ed in the feels. “I love you more than words. Not because of that but… this is all hard. Thank you for helping make it work for us. I know this isn’t pleasant or easy?—”
“I will always do what I need for my family, Edwin. And you’re my family. You’re my everything. Never fear. We will persist if it kills me. I know you’d do the same for me, darling.”
“I would.”
She gave him a quick kiss and said, “Go on. I will see you shortly.”
Ed took direction, winding to the kitchen. He ran into a person he had no interest in running into.
“Well, there you are!” Robbie held a plate of biscuits. “Where is my daughter? I figured you both were together… I don’t mean to pry. I suppose, I shouldn’t?—”
He looked down, eyes filtering to Ed’s hands and their contents—the syringe in one hand and the vial of medication in the other.
“I promise it’s not anything dreadful. It’s not steroids or anything,” Ed said. “I would never! I never did and?—”
“You don’t need to explain,” Robbie said. “I have an idea.”
Ed cocked his head.
“She’s been… off. And you have been, too. I worried something was wrong. Vanna and I… we struggled. I can read the vial. I’m not daft, Ed.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to say?—”
“I’m sorry,” Robbie said. “That you’re coping with it. I… it makes you feel helpless. It’s a bad feeling. And she’s a hormonal wreck, right?”
“She’d kill me for talking to you about this. She doesn’t want anyone to know. Please, don’t say anything?—”
“I won’t,” Robbie insisted. “I won’t, son. Shit. This news… Paul and Sanne. Is this hard for her? Must feel impossible?—”
“For both of us, sir, it is hard.”
Robbie patted Ed’s shoulder. “Go on, put it back in the fridge. I am not going to say anything but if you need something, we’re here.”
Ed nodded. “Natalie is the one who needs to hear that, sir, but if she finds out?—”
“I won’t say a word, Edwin.”
“Thanks,” Ed said. “I appreciate it.”
“Now, if you want some of these, flee back. Actually, take one. You need it.”
Ed picked up one of the famous biscuits The Queen made every year. They were beloved, especially by the Americans.
“Thanks,” he said.
The King left. Ed felt somehow lighter. He’d been mortified. Robbie had always been difficult to relate to. Ed realised Robbie might be by his side. The family took care of itself, but now Ed knew he was part of it. He felt a new acceptance.
“I needyou to fly home. Dwight is sick. He’s not going to make it, Lucy.”
Lucy stood in the guest bathroom at Anmer watching Malcolm unfurl toilet paper gleefully. She couldn’t bother to stop him. She didn’t know what to say. They were on their way to the Christmas Luncheon. Lucy looked forward to watching Malcolm open presents for the first time. She wanted so badly to bask in those memories. He was about to turn one. He had a birthday party scheduled in London at his grandmother’s big house on Regent’s Crescent in two days. There was so much good here—so much happiness—but back in Chicago, the worst awaited.
Lucy hadn’t spoken to her mother willingly in months. It was always an emergency. After her last time in London where she poked and prodded at Lucy about everything she did wrong as a mother, Lucy wasn’t about to board a plane to deal with that treatment for anything less than a genuine emergency.
Lucy hadn’t spoken to her father since she and Winston announced their marriage. Lucy had no desire to rush to his bedside after his angry, abusive outburst. Coldhearted or not, she didn’t care what happened to her father. He was an abusive alcoholic who didn’t give a flying fuck about her. Why should she care for him?
Malcolm smiled at her. He was so perfect. He deserved a good Christmas—untarnished by her father’s passing. She didn’t want to go home and ruin all of this.
“He is in end-stage liver failure and cannot even be transferred home for hospice. Lucy, are you hearing me?”
“Yes, Mom,” Lucy replied.
“It would make his life to see Malcolm here with Connor,” Brittany, Lucy’s sister, said.
She spoke about Lucy’s new baby. They hadn’t yet met. They only saw him on FaceTime.
“Mom, I don’t… I don’t think that is a good idea.”
“Lucy, this isn’t about you. Can you just care about anyone for a moment other than yourself?”
Lucy wanted to throw the phone across the room.
“I am Malcolm’s mother. It is my job to protect him—above all else. Even if you never cared to protect us from Dad’s jealous rages, I will do anything to ensure Mal never sees that. It is my job, Mom. My primary objective.”
“Lucy, he’s sober. Very sober. And he’s dying. And he wants to see the boys together. That is all. And, sweetheart, I am suffering here. I know your father has done terrible things. I am asking because if I didn’t try, I would never live with myself. If you do this for no one but me, please.”
Her mother pleaded in a way Lucy never heard.
“Can we do this after the new year?”
“He will not make it, honey. I don’t know how many ways to say it. He won’t make it.”
Lucy took a deep breath. “We’re in Norfolk. I cannot just… I don’t know when we can catch a flight. I will talk to Winston, okay? We must get our belongings and?—”
“Please, just consider it.”
“I will try my best, Mom,” Lucy said.
She hung up and found Winston downstairs with Natalie and George, looking through family pictures. He and George had done better as of late. Malcolm clung to Lucy as she held him on her hip. He sensed something was wrong, too.
“Winston, I… I don’t even know what to say. We need to go to Chicago. Dad is dying. He won’t make it. I would say fuck it, but Mom sounds different. She needs me. I can’t tell her no for some reason. We need to bring Malcolm and…”
Lucy started to cry. “I’m just… I don’t even know what to do. What do I do?”
Winston stepped back and took Malcolm as Lucy sobbed. Malcolm fought him but stopped fussing as he realised his mother was distressed.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy apologised.
“Don’t apologise, Lucy.” Natalie hugged her friend. “Jesus. That sounds so stressful. I can get clearance to fly you?—”
“No, no.” Lucy knew the stakes for Natalie.
She needed scans and treatments and had no time to waste.
“We’ll take you. Fly you back,” George said. “Put you up. Whatever you need. In the apartment in the city. It’s… nothing. The least Pat and I can do.”
“Oh, George, please, don’t?—”
“No, no, Lucy, it’s nothing.”
“It’s a lot of trouble. And with the baby?”
“Leah’s even younger and more hassle,” George chuckled. “We’ll all be jet lagged together. And we can watch Malcolm if there is something that requires Lucy and she’s not up to having him. I insist. Really.”
“I couldn’t ask that, George.”
“This is not a discussion,” George grew stern. “It’s happening. Winston, do you have moral objections?”
“No, no,” Winston said. “If you feel comfortable taking us back.”
“You can’t leave now,” Natalie said. “You won’t be cleared to fly, George. You know better?—”
“Fine, fine,” George said. “I can get us as far as London and then I must stay overnight before I can fly us back. Nat is right. I have a clock.”
“You won’t get a flight until tomorrow back to the States at this point,” Natalie said. “I can’t take you, either.”
“We leave in the morning,” George announced.
“What are we doing now?” Patrick asked, putting Leah down. She crawled to Malcolm who played with a board book before the television.
“We’re going to let the children open presents in peace and then fly Lucy and Winston back in the morning with Malcolm. I will. You’ll do nothing, of course.”
“Nothing. Nothing but mind the little monsters, Georgie.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Lucy, what is going on?”
“I’m… my Dad is dying. And I’m not all that worried about it because I’m a terrible person.”
“No, it’s because your Dad is a prick. Her mother is having a difficult time,” George explained.
“It’s okay to have emotions, Lulu,” Winston said. “Whatever they are. We’re here for you, my love. That’s all.”
“Exactly. Family stands up for family,” George said. “And while you didn’t come into the family the way everyone expected, this is true. I will make sure you get back in one piece.”
“Scouts honour,” Patrick added.
“Of course you were a Boy Scout,” George said.
“Because it’s gay?” Patrick joked.
“No, because you’re a brown noser,” George said.
“Oh, fuck off, Georgie. It’s not time to take the piss. You’re a doll, Pat,” Natalie said. “Are you sure I cannot manage to help?”
“George is helping,” Lucy said. “You’re more than off the hook. And you have plans. Oh, Tony, we must cancel the party.”
“Luce, that’s so minor.”
“He will get a proper birthday if it kills us,” George chuckled. “You know I love to plan a party.”
“I know. God, I remember. How could I forget?” Lucy chuckled, wiping her eyes.
“You do, too. Just not for yourself.”
“I am not a party person, George. We’ve established that.”
“Well, Malcolm wants us to throw a rager. So, we will,” Patrick said. “If we must, I mean. Twist our arms.”