Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
“Trent. Come on in! Thank you for coming by.” Ordelia carried her daughter, Ruthie, in her arms. His sister had something red, probably food, stuck in her hair. There was a blob of something yellow next to her eyebrow too.
Trent didn’t comment on either. “You know I’m always happy to help out.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve always been such a good boy.” She turned to her stepson, who was sitting on the floor, only half-dressed in his sleeping clothes. “And isn’t he an excellent uncle?”
Michael nodded. He smiled at Trent with a toothy grin.
“Can you help Michael get dressed for bed? He just washed.” Then Ordelia smiled at Michael. “After that, maybe Uncle Trent can read to you whilst I put Ruthie to sleep.”
Ruthie held one of her horns in her hand as she stared at her mother with wide, innocent eyes. Of course, that was an act. The little toddler hated going to bed and would no doubt protest loudly with screams and cries.
Trent regularly helped with the nighttime routine, especially because Ordelia’s husband, Tony, often worked late. It was the least he could do for his older sister.
“Come on, Ruthie. Let’s get you to bed.” Ordelia swept from the room.
Trent put down his pack and turned to Michael. It took a couple of minutes to help him get dressed. Thankfully the clothing didn’t catch on his horns. That had happened the first few times Trent had assisted him.
“This one!” Michael proclaimed as he chose a book. He dropped beside Trent.
Trent picked it up. On the cover was a faun surrounded by pine trees in a wintry forest. “The Little Faun and His Big, Awesome, Magical Christmas Adventure.” Trent read the title.
He’d read this book a thousand times to Michael. It was a favourite. Apparently, it had been a Christmas gift from Michael’s mother before she died. Like Tony, his first wife had been a faun.
Trent opened the book. “There once was a little fawn who set off through the snow in search of a big, awesome, magical Christmas adventure.”
Michael leaned in close, gaze fixed on the pictures.
Trent wondered if Michael had any memories of his mother. After all, he’d only been a couple of years old when she died. He’d have been much younger than Trent, who had been five when he lost his own parents fourteen years ago.
Trent’s memories of his parents were sparse.
Mainly fragments of faces, voices, and scents.
He didn’t have any clear memories or stories of things they’d said or done.
Sometimes he thought he did. But other times he thought that maybe he had just heard his older siblings’ recollections so many times that he had adopted them as his own.
When their parents died, Ordelia and Cas had been the ones who’d taken over the main care of the youngest kids. Ordelia and Cas would have been both about thirteen years old, practically children themselves.
To help with the family finances, Jack and Grady, the oldest siblings, had gotten extra jobs where they worked after the bakery closed. They’d always seemed on the verge of collapse.
And whilst Trent didn’t have strong memories of his parents, he did have memories of the aftermath of their death. Especially the tears, strained conversations, and so much pain that it seemed to throb in the air of the house.
A low hum started in the other room as Ordelia began to sing,
“The moon shines so bright.
The snow falls all night.
Sleep this Christmas night,
whilst you’re bundled up tight.”
Trent’s chest tightened. He stopped reading as the familiar Christmas lullaby washed over him.
And suddenly he was just a confused little boy being held in Ordelia’s arms as she rocked him back and forth. She’d sung this exact song all those years ago. But back then her voice had trembled and shaken with grief. Wetness had marked her cheeks and throat and dripped onto Trent’s hair.
He’d not understood her sorrow. After all, Trent hadn’t really understood death. But he’d felt her pain, and it burrowed beneath his skin.
As Ordelia kept singing, a hard lump coalesced in his chest. Sometimes Trent felt that he had been formed amongst his older siblings’ grief.
They had all gone through so much, suffered so much, and done so much for him. Even Briar, Jasper, and Leo, who’d been so young at the time, started working in the bakery almost immediately after their parents died. They’d had to stand on boxes to reach the counter.
When Trent thought of what all his siblings had done for him, he became overwhelmed with gratitude. And guilt. Because he could never repay them.
For years, he’d been too young to work. But he could be quiet and stay out of the way. That was how he could help his siblings. Never be a bother. Never complain. Never show when you were in pain or felt alone.
“Uncle Trent! You’ve stopped reading!” Michael whined.
Trent smiled. “You’re right. Where were we? The little faun had to be very brave.”
Now that Trent was old enough, he always fulfilled his responsibilities. He turned up early for his shifts in the bakery. He covered shifts when needed. He went to the Aquatic Horticultural Emporium to pick up Jasper’s medicine daily. He helped Ordelia with her kids most days.
He never needed to be asked to help. He just did.
For a while, he’d practically lived at Ordelia’s.
He’d stayed to be an extra set of hands.
He’d slept in the living room. But as Michael and Ruthie grew, he could sense that they didn’t have the space for him.
So he’d stopped staying over, and now he just came to help out.
Then he returned to the family apartment to be out of the way.
“The end,” Trent read.
“Again!” Michael yelled.
So with a smile, Trent began again, “There once was a little fawn who set off through the snow in search of a big, awesome, magical Christmas adventure.”
And when they finished, Michael asked for it to be read again. So Trent did.
After a while, Ordelia came out. She sighed and sat beside them. And when Trent finished the book, Ordelia said to Michael, “Well, I think it’s bedtime for you now.” She placed her hand on his hair and ruffled it.
“Just one more?” Michael begged, eyes wide and pleading.
She shook her head. “Uncle Trent has been reading for a while now. I think it’s bedtime.” She scooped him up. “Say thank you and goodnight.”
Michael sighed, whole body sagging. Then he turned to Trent, expression downcast. “Thank you and goodnight, Uncle Trent.”
“Night, Michael.” Trent rose. “I’ll ah…head off, then.”
He’d helped Ordelia out. And now he’d get out of her way so she could rest once Michael fell asleep.
“You can stick around if you want?” Ordelia offered.
Trent imagined sitting together, drinking tea and talking like they had so many times.
But Trent took in her exhausted tone and the bags under her eyes. She needed sleep. After all, she had two small children to care for and she still worked in the bakery. She didn’t need her baby brother lingering and keeping her up.
“It’s okay. I probably need to get some rest. The Christmas season is a busy time for us.”
He could see the obvious relief in Ordelia’s eyes. Trent tried not to let it hurt. But he yearned for the cosy times from only a few years ago before she’d married and become a mother.
But that was selfish. Ordelia had her own life and responsibilities. Was sort of arsehole brother would he be if he wasn’t happy for her with her new life?
“Well, hopefully you can sleep better now that Briar’s snoring won’t be keeping you up.” Ordelia laughed. “Must be nice having your own room for once.”
He smiled. “And the butcher accidentally gave me some spicy venison salami today.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a parcel. “Which you know I hate. So here.”
“Thank you, Trent!” Her eyes lit up as she took it. “That’s my favourite.”
Which Trent knew, of course. It had been why he’d specifically ordered the spicy salami earlier that day. But if he told her that, she’d want to pay him back, and he knew her finances were always tight. “Have a good night.”
“You too. Love you,” she said.
“Love you too.” Then Trent headed out the door and walked back to the apartment alone through the freezing cold snow.