Chapter 25 Hayley
Hayley
H ayley sat on the floor of the living room, helping Jamie to wrap presents.
“I’ve told everyone they’re not allowed to come in until we open the door.
” He reached for a box and the large bag of wrapping paper that his mother had recycled from the year before.
“This is the hard part. My grandmother insists on using the same paper as many times as possible. It gets stored in a bag and reused. Just make sure you’ve removed any previous tags that say ‘from Becky to Rosie’ or it gets very confusing.
And when you get given a gift try not to rip the paper off in joyous abandon. Peel it carefully and don’t tear it.”
Hayley, who had been frugal for most of her life, thought that sounded entirely logical.
“I like the fact that you reuse everything. This is another family tradition?”
“One of the more annoying ones.” He pulled out a sheet that seemed to have more holes than paper and rolled his eyes. “You see what I mean? What are we supposed to do with this? Wrap a Swiss cheese and hope the holes line up?”
She giggled and took it from him. “It’s fine. I can cut round the holes and use it for the makeup we bought for Rosie.”
“ You bought.” He watched as she neatly cut and wrapped, trimming edges and discarding old tape. “Okay, you’re good at this. I should have predicted that.”
“It’s not rocket science, Jamie.”
“It is if you didn’t inherit the wrapping genes.”
She placed Rosie’s gift in the middle of a piece of newly trimmed paper. “There are genes that dictate your skill at wrapping?”
“I’m convinced of it. Rosie inherited them. Becky and I didn’t. We don’t need labels for our gifts. Just look at the ones trying to push their way out of their wrapping.”
“Could you write a label, or is that another genetic deficiency?”
“Labels I can do.” He jumped to his feet as someone opened the door. “Don’t come in here! We’re wrapping.”
“Why couldn’t you wrap in the bedroom?” Rosie’s voice came through the gap in the door. “You’ve banned the whole family from the living room.”
“I thought it would be festive for Hayley to wrap the presents under the tree.”
“While the rest of us stand out in the hallway? Thanks a lot, Jamie. Now I know where your priorities lie.”
“You’ve never been my priority, Rosie. You’re the youngest child. Get to the back of the line.”
“But I’m supposed to be playing the piano and singing carols with Granny.”
“All the more reason for me to keep this door closed.”
“I hate having a sibling.”
“I know. But you’re going to love me when you see your Christmas present.” Grinning, he leaned his weight against the door and closed it, ignoring his sister’s protests.
“I bet Hayley bought the presents! I bet you didn’t choose a single thing.” Rosie’s voice was muffled as she banged on the door.
Jamie was laughing. “I chose Hayley, didn’t I? She’s my gift to me. And a great choice she was too. Now go away and don’t try and come in again or I’ll eat your chocolate.”
Hayley watched this exchange with fascinated amusement. “I never imagined adult siblings could be so juvenile.”
“Oh, keep watching. You haven’t seen anything yet.” He settled down next to her and fished more paper out of the bag. “This is the point where Rosie would normally have run to our parents and said ‘Jamie is being mean to me.’”
Hayley trimmed and wrapped. “And what would happen then?”
“My mother would usually come to whichever room I was in and say ‘Jamie, stop being mean to your sister.’”
“And did that work?” Hayley deftly tied a ribbon around a book they’d bought for Becky.
“No. But then Becky would come into my room and either thump me or do something to crash my laptop. She was a much more effective disciplinarian.” He sat back on his heels. “Are we done?”
“I think so.” She pushed the stack of gifts under the tree along with the others. “I wrapped your gifts before we left home.”
“And I did the same with yours, although no doubt mine will be considerably less elegant.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “How are you doing? Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much.” And she was, except for the niggling insecurities that she couldn’t shake off.
What did Jenny think of her, really? She knew that in theory it shouldn’t matter because the important relationship was between her and Jamie, but it did matter.
She wanted to feel like part of the family.
But she also knew that couldn’t be rushed. It would take time.
“After lunch we usually go for a long family walk on the beach.”
“Sounds good. With Percy?”
“Of course. He’s the most important family member.”
“Jamie?” His father’s voice came through the doorway. “When you’ve finished wrapping, can you join your grandfather and I in the study? We’re drafting a chapter on common skin conditions seen in primary care. I need your input.”
Jamie glanced at Hayley, and she waved him away.
“Go! I need a cup of coffee after all that wrapping so I’m heading straight to the kitchen after I’ve cleared up here. I’ll be fine.”
Jamie kissed her briefly and left the room to join his father.
Having been kept out of the room for the past hour, Percy was delighted to be allowed back to his favorite place in front of the fire.
Hayley played with him for a while and then tidied up and made her way to the kitchen.
Jenny was on her own there, rinsing cranberries.
She glanced across as Hayley walked into the room. “Is the wrapping finished? Where’s Jamie?”
“Jamie’s working on the book. And the wrapping is done.” She hesitated. “Can I do anything?”
“I’m making cranberry sauce for tomorrow.” Jenny tipped the cranberries into a pan. “I’ve already squeezed the oranges. If you could grab the brown sugar from the cupboard over there, that would be great.” She gestured and then wiped her hands on her apron.
Hayley opened the cupboard, located the sugar and was about to pass it to Jenny when a piece of paper caught her eye. It was tucked next to a large jar of homemade granola, and it had her name at the top of it.
She picked it up. It was a list, and the heading was Perfect Christmas for Hayley.
Jenny gave a little shriek and shot across the kitchen.
“You weren’t supposed to see that!” She reached out to take it and then let her hand drop. “Sorry. I’ve been keeping it hidden, but I checked it this morning and forgot to put it back.”
“You made a list of things that would make a perfect Christmas?”
Jenny made a despairing gesture. “Yes, but—”
“A perfect Christmas for me?” She could see how awkward Jenny felt and maybe she should have let it drop, laughed it off, said something flippant, but she couldn’t. Flippant was for small things that didn’t matter, and this wasn’t small. And it mattered.
“Jamie mentioned it when he called, that’s all,” Jenny said. “He told me how much you wanted a dream family Christmas. I wasn’t sure what that involved so I watched a couple of movies and made notes.”
“Notes?”
“I wanted everything to be perfect for you. I wrote down the things I thought we could reproduce, at least in the house. Sadly I can’t conjure up shops selling gingerbread and candy canes and snowy villages with cobbled streets, which seems to be a staple of some of the movies I watched, but I managed other things.
Extra trees. Extra lights. It was all supposed to look effortless and natural and now I’ve spoiled the illusion by leaving my scribbling lying around.
It was supposed to be like one of Rosie’s ballets—a performance where no one sees the workings behind the scenes. ”
But sometimes the workings were more important than the final performance, because the workings meant something.
Hayley felt a lump in her throat. “You did this for me?”
“Yes. I wanted you to feel at home. I wanted you to feel like part of the family.” Jenny’s shoulders slumped a little. “I wanted you to like us. Me.”
And Hayley realised in that moment that she wasn’t the only one who had been worried. Jenny had been worried too. And caring enough to make a list of things to make Hayley feel festive, and at home.
“Thank you. This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this.” It was difficult to speak. “You made us—me—so welcome, and then we gave you such a shock. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you before we arrived. Don’t blame Jamie. He did it for me.”
“Don’t think about it. I understand.”
“But it hurt you—”
“A little maybe, but not for long, and families are full of these tiny bruises. Cuts and scratches, that’s all. They heal. They don’t damage the whole.”
“You must think—”
“I think you’re perfect, Hayley.” Jenny reached out and took her hands, squeezing them. “Just perfect.”
“I’m so far from perfect.”
Jenny smiled. “Well, that’s good. If you were perfect, it would be exhausting for the rest of us.
Perhaps I should have said that I think you’re perfect for my son.
He’s a lucky man. I’m looking forward to spending more time with you and getting to know you.
” She hesitated. “We’re your family too, now.
I know you’re both adults, but I’m always on the end of a phone if you need a listening ear.
And I love Edinburgh. Perhaps I could drive up and meet you for lunch occasionally. ”
“I’d love that. Jamie doesn’t often have time off in the day but—”
“I meant you,” Jenny said. “You and I. We could spend some time together. Get to know each other a little better.”
“Oh.” She imagined taking Jenny to the little café she’d discovered in the backstreets and catching up over coffee. “That would be lovely.”
“I’ll try not to be like any of the stereotypes of mother-in-law.”
“I wouldn’t even know what those are.”
She’d arrived feeling like an outsider, hovering on the edges, and now here she was gradually being folded into the family.
Any further conversation was interrupted by Martin, who walked into the room carrying another stack of papers.
“Right! I think we finally have a plan. A list of topics and chapters. Jamie helped us with the last part. Take a look and tell me what you think.”
“Ah, the book. In this family, everything stops for the book.” Jenny exchanged a glance with Hayley and took the papers from him. “Brian’s Book.” She looked at him. “That’s Dad’s final decision on the title?”
“No. But if we wait to find the right title, we’re never going to write the book. Ignore that. Take a look at the contents.” He sat down at the kitchen table and patted the chair next to him. “Think about the stuff we worried about as new parents.”
Hayley left them to it and carried the sugar over to the cranberries that Jenny had already tipped into the pan.
“Oh Hayley, thank you!” Jenny glanced up at her. “The recipe is right there because I always forget the amount of sugar. Just throw it in the pan with the orange juice and heat it. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sorry—” Martin looked up. “Just leave it, Hayley. Jenny can do it in a minute. This won’t take long.”
“Hayley doesn’t mind doing it. She’s helping, Martin.”
“She’s a guest.”
“She’s not a guest, she’s family. She can make cranberry sauce. That’s what family does.” She put her glasses on and read through the chapter list. “You have a chapter on menopause. Good. And what to do if your doctor doesn’t take you seriously—I like that—”
Feeling a warmth she’d never felt before, Hayley turned back to the stove, leaving them to it.
She had cranberry sauce to make.