Chapter 20 December 20th #7
Do I see him shudder? “She’s friendly,” I muse, smiling when he throws a tired look back at me.
“Shut up,” he murmurs, taking us back through to the hall.
“Did you drag me into a classroom just to sneak a kiss?”
“Yes,” he answers unapologetically, his neck craning to see over the mass of heads. “Where is he?”
“There,” I say, spotting Dec’s little prawn standing on the edge of the stage, scanning the crowd.
“Daddy!” he yells when he spots us. Dec drops my hand, but that’s okay.
He heads for the stage, and when he’s a few meters away, Albi launches himself off the edge, landing in Dec’s open arms perfectly.
Trust. They are quite literally each other’s worlds.
I’ve spent little time with both of them together, and yet I see no empty void a mother’s left to be filled.
I never thought I’d have believed a child could be okay without their mother in their lives.
Whether death, selfishness, or force took them away.
Albi isn’t missing a mother, because Dec’s everything he needs.
“That was insane!” Dec exclaims, shifting Albi’s little butt onto his forearm. “You’re a natural, fella.”
“I know,” he says, easy, his pink-padded shoulders jumping up casually. “Did you sing?”
“All the words.”
“Father Christmas’s reindeers aren’t really dolphins, Daddy.”
“I know, mate.”
“And Father Christmas isn’t a merman. He’s a big fat man with a white beard.”
“I know.” Dec walks back over to me.
“That was so cool, Albi,” I say as Dec lowers him to the ground, kneeling in front of him.
“I’m going to give you two options,” he says, holding up two fingers, “and you have to pick one, okay?”
Albi jumps up and claps. “Okay.”
“You can stay at school, go to the party and see Father Christmas, or you can come on a date with me and Camryn.”
His head springs back, and he peeks up at me. “What’s a date?”
“We go for something to eat. Maybe a walk. Maybe stop at the Lego shop.”
His excited eyes widen, and he comes closer. “What about school, Daddy?”
Dec puts his fingers to his lips. “Shhh.” And Albi copies.
“Come on.” Dec scoops him up, seizes my hand, and carries Albi through the crowd, pulling me along behind him.
“Signing Albi Ellis out,” Dec declares when we make it to the reception area, taking the pen on the book and scribbling across the page.
“Oh, is he unwell?” the receptionist asks.
“Terrible. I really didn’t want him to come, but he insisted.” Dec drops the pen. “He didn’t want to let his classmates down.”
“Oh, how admirable.”
“We’re going on a date,” Albi declares, putting his finger to his lips. “Shhh.”
I snort behind Dec, and Dec laughs nervously. Guilty. “To the doctor’s, eh, fella? Because you’re poorly sick.” Dec makes fast work of escaping, and I follow behind, my smile breaking my face.
He puts Albi down and the moment he does, he gasps, his mitt-covered hands splaying his cheeks. “Father Christmas!” he cries. “How will he know what to bring me?”
“Well, I just so happen to know that after he’s visited your school, he’s going to be at Harrods.”
“Harrods?” Albi questions. “Where you buy your work suits?”
“That’s right.”
“Harrods?” I ask. “You need to be specially invited to see Father Christmas at Harrods.”
“Correct,” Dec murmurs, taking my hand and Albi’s with the other. “Up for it?” He looks at me. Hopeful. Wary.
I nod.
Why get off the rollercoaster now?
Our date is perfect. Father Christmas was magical, and an early dinner at the Rainforest Café was up there too.
Albi insisted on wearing his prawn costume all day.
I’ve swayed from heart-stopping happiness watching him soak up the magic of Christmas, to heart-pounding sadness that my boy isn’t alive to experience it as well.
And I’m proud of myself too. I’ve faced so many fears today, done what I thought would be impossible.
And, as I dreaded, I’m falling head over heels for Dec’s little boy.
On the drive home, I look back to see he’s sparked out in his seat, his head tipped back, his mouth catching flies. Exhausted. “All that chatter’s knackered him out,” Dec muses.
I watch the lights shining in on the car casting shadows across his face. “Thank you for today.”
“Shhh.” Dec hushes me quietly, offering his hand, and I accept and weave our fingers together. “Come home with me,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “We can take that shower we both need.”
“And Albi?”
“He’s going through until seven, trust me.”
“Okay,” I agree easily. “If you’re comfortable with that.”
“I’m not the concern here, Camryn. Neither is Albi.” He finally looks at me. “Are you comfortable?”
I nod. “I couldn’t think of a better way to end today.”
After we stop by my place to pick up some things and check in on Mr. Percival, we drive to Dec’s in comfortable silence.
Lynette opens the door before Dec makes it there, Albi draped over his shoulder, flat out.
There’s a suitcase in the hallway, and Lynette is wrapped up in a long duffle coat, her gloves in her hand.
“I was hoping I’d get to say goodbye,” she whispers, pulling the pink fabric away from Albi’s face and dropping a light kiss on his cheek.
“Will you have him FaceTime me tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Dec nods to a gift bag in the corner. “That’s for you. From Albi.” He dips and kisses her cheek. “Have Ron carry your case.”
“Of course.”
“Have a great Christmas with your family, Lynette.” Dec starts up the stairs, and I can’t help my smile following him, Albi’s little cheek squished against his shoulder.
“You too.” Lynette turns a smile my way as she collects the gift bag. “Look after them while I’m gone,” she says, almost reluctantly, as Ron appears on the doorstep and takes her case.
“I will.” She doesn’t realise that it’s them looking after me. “Safe journey.”
Ron nods my way as Lynette steps out into the cold and closes the door behind them, leaving me alone in the hallway.
I lower my bag and hang my coat on the stand, going to the playroom door and pushing it open.
Hovering on the threshold, I take in the colourful space.
It’s a mess, toys strewn all over the floor, colouring pens scattered across the tiny wooden table in the corner, books stacked chaotically on the mini bookcase under the window.
A perfect mess.
I back out and wander down the hallway, poking my head around the other doors before the kitchen. The study opposite the playroom. The downstairs loo.
A set of closed double doors lure me there, and I push them open to reveal a beautiful formal lounge .
. . and a Christmas tree to rival Rockefeller Center.
I inhale my surprise, blindly kicking my trainers off before I tread on the lush cream carpet, dazzled by the tree that’s drenched in gold glass baubles, satin bows, and thousands of warm twinkling fairy lights.
Piles of gifts surround the base, a huge gold-encrusted star perched atop.
I wander over and the closer I get, I see there’s pictures in the baubles.
All of Dec and Albi, ranging from when he was a baby, to now.
My heart can’t take it, and I press my palm into my chest, looking closely at each and every one of them. All gorgeous. Father and son.
Each other’s worlds.
I feel my eyes welling for an entirely different reason. Not for what I’ve lost . . . but for what Dec has. I roughly wipe my face, turning, coming face to face with a large piece of art over the fireplace, a collage of pictures all in black and white. All smiles. All laughter. All them.
Two velvet stockings hang from the oak hearth with their names stitched into the white fluffy edging.
Albi.
Daddy.
Will I fit here? They’re so complete. Whole.
Feeling a little overwhelmed, I move to one of the giant cream suede couches that frame the fireplace and lower, staring up at the pictures.
I had something similar, all pictures of Noah.
It’s still wrapped up in paper, still hidden away in a cupboard.
And the stockings, we did that. Had our names embroidered into our own.
Two smaller stockings for Mummy and Daddy flanking Noah’s larger one.
My chest constricts, and I stand, leaving the room in a rush and closing the doors behind me. Dec’s coming down the stairs, and he stops halfway when he sees me. Or more registers my blotchy face. He sighs and treads down the remaining stairs, pulling me in for a hug.
I never knew how soothing a simple hug could be. “It’s a beautiful room,” I say into his shoulder.
“It’s our favourite.” Pulling out, he checks my eyes for tears, running the pad of his thumb beneath each. “Come” He clasps my hand and leads me up the stairs.
The bedroom is basked in a faint apricot glow from the bedside lamps, the curtains drawn. Dec walks us through to his bathroom, turns the shower on, and strips me down, then himself, leaving our clothes in a mixed pile on the floor.
Hot water hits my skin when he walks me in, but it doesn’t warm me like Dec can.
Taking a sponge, he soaks it under the spray and turns me away from him, dragging it across my back.
There’s not one inch of my body he doesn’t clean.
Not one hair on my head he doesn’t comb his fingers through, shampooing, rinsing, and brushing conditioner through the lengths.
When he’s on his knees before me, I look down at him washing my thighs, his concentration intense, his well-honed body glistening under the drops of water coating him, his hair saturated.
I know he won’t escalate this. Whether he thinks it’s inappropriate to or not, I don’t know.
I sense he just wants to take care of me.
I hate that I feel like I need taking care of.
I hate that I’m fragile, because I don’t want to be a burden.
Dec doesn’t need someone else to look after.
I drop to my knees to join him, and he lifts his gaze to mine.
I hate the sadness I see in his usually glittery eyes.
Eyes that are now dull. “Today was the best day and worst all rolled into one,” I admit quietly, my voice not broken but definitely cracking.
Two emotions—happiness and sadness—swaying like a pendulum.
Both catching me off guard when one would creep up and dilute the other.
“I think you’re brilliant.” I cup his face with both hands, holding it firmly, making him see. “I think Albi’s brilliant.”
“I feel like there’s a but coming, and I really don’t want to hear it.”
“But I’m even more scared now because I’ve fallen in love with him even faster than I fell in love with you.”
His lips part, his eyes darting across my face. “You’re not replacing Noah,” he whispers. “To love another child would never mean that.”
“I know. But it doesn’t stop the guilt. Or the reminders. Or the heartache.”
“I need you, Camryn. Not for Albi. I need you for me. You’ve filled a part of me I didn’t know was empty.
I went to the bar that night to kill time.
April took Albi to the pantomime, and I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I’m irrevocably his, but I don’t want to hold him back.
I don’t want him to be scared to leave me.
I want him to experience life. Travel. Explore the world, become utter greatness.
Be successful, fulfilled, a good father.
By being what my father isn’t, I could hold him back, and I don’t want that.
But most of all, I don’t want him to be afraid of falling in love.
I want him to look at me when he's older and know I’m okay.
Not lonely. I was so fucking lonely, Camryn.
I know it’s terrifying, but I want you to stay.
I need you to stay. Please stay. For me. ”
I take his face in my hands, overwhelmed by the amazing man before me.
“You’ll never lose me, I promise you,” he whispers.
My lip quivers. “I love you both.”
His smile is small but fucking huge, and he stands us up, flipping the shower off before pulling a white towel off the heated rail and drying us. He leads me to the bed and gets us beneath the duvet, pulling me onto his chest, holding me there.
“I love you both too,” he whispers.
I fall asleep in his arms, his heart beating strongly under my ear.
And I feel mine pounding in reply.
Life.