Chapter 21 December 21st #3
Luckily, I have another bombshell to share, although I’m still wondering if it’s new news to Dec. “You didn’t get TF Shipping,” I say.
He’s silent for a few moments. “I hoped to give you the heads-up before your boss. I just found out myself.”
“They let me go.”
He sighs. “Fuck. Camryn, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I have a feeling my time here was limited, anyway. This was a double-edged sword for me. I scoop up my box with one arm and head for the elevators. “I’m going to see my mum.”
“Call me when you’re done, okay? We can do something.”
“Sure.” I try to smile and fail. It’s the week running up to Christmas, a time of year I dread at the best of times. Everyone shuts down for weeks, which means I’m in limbo, unable to actively hunt for a new job until the new year.
Spend it with us.
Think about it. That’s all I ask.
Could I do that?
I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.
Mum’s sleeping when I arrive, her room dark and quiet.
I dump my box in the corner and do my usual tasks before lowering to the chair and sitting in silence with her.
She eventually opens her eyes, and before they even find me, I know they’re empty.
She turns her head and looks at me. “Hi, Mum,” I say quietly, sensing today isn’t going to be as good as my last visit. “What did you have for breakfast?”
She squints, as if she’s thinking hard about that. “Porridge.”
I shift my chair closer. “Sounds yummy.”
“With honey. And a banana.” She smiles. “That was your favourite when you were a little girl.”
My entire being solidifies. She knows. She knows it’s me. “Yes, it was.”
She lifts her head off the pillow a tiny bit. “That nurse was here again last night.”
“Which nurse?”
“The one who’s been taking my money. She went under my mattress. Ha!” She drops her head back down, and it lands with a soft thud, the effort to keep it up too much. “But I fooled her.”
“How?” I ask, animated, as if truly intrigued.
“I hid it all in my pillow.” She lifts her head again. “Go on,” she whispers. “Get it out and put in in the bank before she finds it.”
I bend over her bed and go along with her, slipping my hand into her pillowcase, faltering when I feel a rustle of something. I frown as I grab a handful and pull it out.
“Quick,” she whispers, while I stare down at the ripped pages out of a book. “Put it in your handbag. There’s more.”
“Okay,” I whisper back, stuffing the worthless, tatty paper into the side pocket of my bag before reaching in and pulling out more. “I think I’ve got it all.”
“Okay. That’s good.” Her head plummets to the pillow again and she whips out two pages from my grasp, setting them aside. “This is for Noah. For that football kit he keeps talking about.”
I hesitate for a second. Just a second. “Okay, Mum.”
Deirdre enters, and she smiles widely at me. “You came for the carols,” she sings, thrilled.
Mum flips me a wink as the nurse washes her hands at the basin, and it brings an instant smile to my face. “Oh, that’s today?” I ask, zipping up the side pocket on my bag and patting it.
“We’re just getting started.” Hands on her hips, she takes Mum in. “Now then, Celeste, are we going to get you in a chair?”
“I’ll help,” I say, getting up as Deirdre pops into the corridor and returns moments later with a huge wheelchair. Or more like an armchair on wheels.
“Where am I going?” Mum asks, looking alarmed.
“It’s Christmas carols, Celeste. We got a choir here just for you.”
“She’s sucking up because she knows I’m onto her,” Mum says out the corner of her mouth as I help her to sit up. She lifts with relative ease, surprising me.
“Let’s play along,” I whisper back. “Can you swing your legs off?”
“I’m not an invalid,” she snaps. “It’s just the flu, I’ll be right as rain soon.”
“I wish you would be,” I say under my breath as Deirdre moves in to help.
“No, thank you.” Mum holds a palm up to stop her coming closer. “This lovely young lady is all the help I need.”
And just like that, the wind is taken out of my sails. “It’s Camryn, Mum,” I say.
“Who?”
“Never mind.” I take her weight, which isn’t much at all, and get her into the chair. “Ready?” I ask, pulling a blanket off the end of the bed and laying it over her lap.
“Where am I going?”
“To hear some Christmas carols.”
“Oh, we used to do that when you were a little girl,” she says, happy. “Your favourite was The Twelve Days of Christmas, but you always got the geese and the swans mixed up.”
I smile as I wheel her out of her room, down the corridor to the communal room. Yes, I did. Only the geese and swans.
The residents of the home all sit in various chairs in a semicircle around a makeshift stage. “What are we doing in here?” Mum asks.
I grab a chair from the corner, noting the lack of other relatives present, and sit next to her, taking her hand in mine. “Look,” I say, as a line of people file onto the stage, men and women of all ages, and children too.
“What are they doing here?” she asks.
“They’re going to sing for you, Mum.”
“Oh. How lovely.”
They start with Silent Night, and it is utterly beautiful.
Even better, Mum listens intently, a wistful smile on her face.
When one of the nurses appears next to me with a tray, I take two small cups of mulled wine and put one in Mum’s hand.
And I listen to the truly angelic voices as I watch her sip from her cup and sway her head in time with the music.
I don’t take my eyes off her. Can’t. I just have to watch her.
She’s so oblivious to the fact I’m losing my sweet mum.
She has no clue and therefore doesn’t mourn her darling husband who passed away four years ago.
She’s ignorant to the pain of losing her beloved Noah.
Being unaware of the pain of loss is probably the only blessing of her illness.
“This is nice,” she says, reaching for my hand and resting it on her lap. I drop my gaze to our entwined fingers, holding on to her tightly. “You look so much . . . lighter, my buttercup. Happy. Shame your new man couldn’t be here too.”
I shoot her a surprised look, not that she notices. “Yes, a shame,” I agree. “I’d love for you to meet him.”
“That would be nice.”
“He has a little boy, Mum.”
She just smiles at the singers. She looks . . . at peace. As if she’s needed this. The music. The joy. Me.
“I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too, buttercup,” she says clearly, bringing the back of my hand to her mouth and kissing it. “Love you too.”
When Mum’s settled back in her bed, she drops off almost instantly, exhausted from her short outing. Deirdre clears away some of the empty cups on her wheely table. “Too many tipples,” she quips, chuckling as she drops the plastic cups in the bin.
“She seemed so good today,” I say as I watch her sleeping. “Confused still, obviously, but she knew me.” And then didn’t. Then did again.
Deirdre smiles, checking some of Mum’s notes. But she doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t she agree? I bend and kiss Mum’s forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Did you enjoy the carols, Camryn?”
“They were wonderful.” I pull on my coat and swing my bag onto my shoulder. “Do you mind if I leave that here until the snow’s cleared?”
Deidre looks across to my box of things in the corner. “What is it?”
“Just a few things from work I don’t need. I’ll take it when the weather’s not so bad and I don’t need both hands in case I slip.”
“Do you want me to put in the office?”
“There’s nothing valuable. It’ll be fine there.” I frown. “Actually, you can throw it all away.”
“Oh?”
“It’s just some loose bits of stationery. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I push my way out into the cold, feeling so much better than when I came, and stutter on the steps when I see Dec’s black Defender. He gets out and opens the back door, revealing Albi on the back seat, out of his car seat. “Camryn!” he sings, scrambling across to get out.
His face is fucking precious. It could never not bring a smile to mine. “What are you doing here?” I ask, taking the steps down to them.
“We took an early day,” Dec says.
“We been busting balls!” Albi declares, practically launching himself at me, forcing me to catch him or let him fall face first into the snow. Of course, I catch him. Trust.
He clings to my neck, his face close to mine. I could break down on the spot. “Busting balls, huh?”
“Yeah!”
I look past him to Dec. He looks yummy in his jeans and navy coat, a scarf wrapped around his neck. “You changed out of your power suits?”
“After we busted those balls.”
“Poor balls.” I plant a kiss on Albi’s cheek and lower him to the snow.
“Are you finished work now, Camryn?”
I laugh, looking out the corner of my eye to Dec. “Yep. All finished.”
“We are too!” He darts back to the car and scrambles up into his car seat, getting his arms through the straps. “It’s ice-skating time.”
I recoil. “What?”
Dec looks instantly uncomfortable. “I lost a bet.”
“Yeah,” Albi sings. “Daddy said I couldn’t be quiet for the whole of his call, and I was.”
“And now I have to take him ice skating.”
“Oh, well, have fun.”
Dec’s face falls, and try as I might, I can’t keep mine straight. “You’re fucking with me,” he breathes quietly.
“You’re not coming?” Albi murmurs, forlorn.
“Of course I’m coming.” I reach into the car and buckle him up, and then I still. It’s like muscle memory, instinctively doing this. “Will you have a penguin?”
He gasps, utterly gobsmacked. “You know about the penguins?”
“I do indeed.”
“How?”
“Because I looked it up, of course.” I check his straps and take the door. “Mind your fingers,” I say, making sure his hands aren’t wandering as I close the door. “Ice skating?” I face Dec. “Of all the things you could have used as leverage, you used ice skating?”
His nose wrinkles and he pulls me into him. “How is your mother today?”