Chapter 4
Chapter Four
ALEX
C oming home is usually a sad, lonely affair, with only the smell of Blanche’s cooking warming in the oven for me. But today, I couldn’t wait to get back here to see Merryssa and have someone to share an evening meal with.
Walking into my house, the aroma of home cooking floats through the air along with the sound of Christmas music playing in the distance. I’m surprised Blanche is still here at this time. I stroll into the kitchen, shrugging off my jacket, and pause at the sight.
Merryssa, bent over in my kitchen, her green dress pulled tight against her round ass jiggling to some Christmas song playing through the home sound system.
I stand back, admiring the view. Visualising my ex-wife is something I shouldn’t do, but having her here in my home, it’s hard not to think about how she’d look in my bed, or bent over this counter with her dress pulled up, a handprint on her big ass.
She pulls a dish from the oven and spins around, still dancing, swishing her curvy hips from side to side. Placing the dish of what looks like a casserole onto the worktop, her gaze floats up to meet mine.
“How long have you been there?” Her smile widens as if she’s happy to see me.
“A few minutes. Where’s Blanche?” I fold my jacket over the back of the stool at the breakfast bar.
Merry waves a hand in the air. “I gave her the rest of the day off.”
“You gave my housekeeper time off?”
“Yes, it was her grandson’s birthday. I told her to go enjoy the day.”
“So, does that mean that you’ve cooked this meal?” It looks delicious, but Merry was never the best cook.
“Yes, don’t look so surprised. I’ve learnt a lot of skills in the past twenty years.” She unties the apron that says baking memories .
“I hope so. I’m starving.”
She hands me a bottle of eggnog. “Table’s all set in the dining room. I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure if you used the dining room to eat, but it’s a beautiful room with the view of the ocean?—”
“It doesn’t get used much, but this is a special occasion. I mean, you’ve cooked, so that has to be something worth celebrating.” I chuckle to myself.
She swats the oven glove at my chest. “Watch it or I might add an extra ingredient to your dish.”
“I don’t mind extra spice.”
She glares. “I meant cyanide.”
With another chuckle, I carry the chilled eggnog through into the dining room, but halt in the doorway, sucking in a lungful of air. The room’s been transformed into a Christmas village.
“Hot stuff coming through,” Merry says, carrying the casserole behind me.
“Don’t I know it,” I mumble as I step aside, allowing her to enter the dining room with all her deliciousness—and I don’t mean the food. “When did you do all this?” My hand waves around the room, pointing at the Christmas tree in the corner.
“Blanche and Celeste helped. We did a little shopping after the dress fitting and I mentioned that you wouldn’t know it was Christmas at your home.” She places the dish in the centre of the dining table. “I’ve invited everyone over for dinner on Christmas Day, by the way. I’m not sure what your plans were, but thought it would be cosy.”
As I walk around the dining room to the head of the table, my fingers glide along the red velvet stockings that have obviously been hung with care.
She points to the mantle. “I thought we could fill them with some after-dinner gifts. You know something funny. Maybe a few games. I couldn’t find any Christmas crackers for the table, though.”
“We don’t have those pull-open Christmas crackers here. I think that’s just a Brit thing.” My brow knits as I count the stockings again. “So, who is the seventh guest?” I hate entertaining at best, though if it means I’ll get to spend Christmas with my family, then so be it, but knowing Merry, she’s probably invited a homeless guy she ran into or maybe it’s Blanche, though I’m sure she said she was spending Christmas with her daughter.
Merry steps towards me and slips her hands into the stocking, pulling out a tiny pair of white booties.
Something stutters in my chest. I search her face for confirmation. “Shelly?”
The smile reaching her eyes tells me I’m going to be a grandfather. I don’t think I’m ready for that. I was never ready to be a father thirty years ago. I don’t think anyone can ever be fully prepared for these things, but I’m going to do everything I can to be a better grandparent than I was a father.
“It’s not confirmed yet. It’s just a feeling Shelly had today when she couldn’t fit into her dress. She’s going to tell Finn and do a test.” Merry pours the eggnog into our glasses and hands me one. “You look like you need something stronger than this.”
I take the glass and clink it against Merry’s. Emotions clog in my throat, making it difficult to speak. It’s as if I’m getting a second chance with Finn. I wasn’t around much when he was growing up, but I’m going to make sure I’m there for his child. I’ll be at every soccer game or dance recital or whatever the kid’s into.
“This calls for the good stuff. I have your favourite in here.” I open the liquor cabinet in the dining room and grab the rum, still dazed.
Rubbing the swell in my chest, I take a seat before I fall down. My shaky hand pours the rum into our eggnog, then I bring the glass to my lips, and gulp down a mouthful.
Merry tucks the boots back into the stocking and sits down next to me. “I’m a little jealous that you get to live here near them and I’m all the way back in England.” She spoons the casserole onto her plate. The aroma filling the room makes this place feel more like a home instead of an empty shell where I sleep.
“You can always move in here permanently.” My gaze locks with hers. I shouldn’t have said that. She can probably hear the desperation in my voice.
Merry giggles. “You want a free housemaid, don’t you?”
I take another gulp of the spiked eggnog. “Nah, I wouldn’t give up Blanche. She does all my laundry.”
“Oh, speaking of laundry. I did that for you.”
I choke as part of my drink goes down the wrong way. Holding the napkin over my mouth, I cough it up and splutter, “You did my laundry?”
Merry chews on her food with furrowed brows. “It’s no big deal, but when I emptied your trouser pockets, I found a doobie.”
A chuckle rumbles out of me. “You smoked it, didn’t you? It makes sense now why you’re cooking and cleaning for me.” I mean, I’ve nothing against her doing these things. It’s nice, but when we were married, she rarely cooked or cleaned, always busy planning the next rally or campaign.
“No, it’s here.” She pulls it from a pocket in her tunic-style dress and places the swirly coloured tin onto the table. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t. Marley gave it to me last night at the restaurant. Said it would be good for my back. I didn’t like to tell him no when he was trying to be helpful.”
“Oh. I thought he was high last night. Makes sense.” She swills her drink around her glass before taking a sip.
“Nice couple though.” I pour more eggnog, remembering it’s Merry’s favourite drink when I brought a bottle back from the States one Christmas.
“I can’t believe you remember how much I love this.” She lifts the bottle and tops up her tumbler on the table. “Nothing in the UK tastes as good as this.”
I want to tell her that nothing in the States tastes as good as her, but that would probably make things awkward. We’ve been getting along since she got here and I don’t want to spoil it by coming on too strong.
She adds more rum to the tumbler and we clink glasses. “Cheers.”
We both finish our meals in silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s not often you meet someone where you can just be yourself and enjoy each other’s company without words. I’ve always found that sanctuary with Merry. She knows me and I know her. Even after all these years, it’s like no time has passed at all.
“Well, that meal was incredible. Where’d you learn to cook like that?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “I had to learn to do a lot of things after you left.”
“You left me, remember? And if you also remember, I offered several times to have Finn move over here with me, but you insisted on keeping him in London.”
She straightens her spine. “I wasn’t about to give up my son. School holidays wouldn’t have been enough for me. I would have missed him too much.”
I crumple the napkin in my fist. “You don’t think I missed him? You chose to be a single parent, Merry. When are you going to stop with the digs?”
“I was a single parent long before we divorced, Alex. You were never around. I left you because I was tired of competing with your business.”
My hand drops the scrunched napkin on the table. “I wasn’t the only one who was married to their career, Merry. I think it’s time you took some of the responsibility for our failed marriage.”
Her chair scrapes as she stands. Without words, she collects her empty plate and walks around the dining table with a tight lip.
The joint in the tin looks more appealing by the second. “I take it there’s no dessert?” I shout after her, then train my ear to the other room, hoping I can lighten the mood, or at least make her mad so she storms back in here, but my heart sinks with the closing of the back door.
Rising from the chair, I grab the joint, shove the tin into my pocket, and walk to the kitchen window.
Merryssa struts across the poolside patio under the moonlight.
I pull the spliff from my pocket and twist it in my fingers. It’s been so long since I smoked, I don’t even own a lighter.
A light turns on in the pool house. She draws her curtains in the bedroom and I stomp up the stairs to my room, yanking the tie from under my collar.
Opening the door to my dressing room, I slide open the drawer for my ties and stuff this one inside, then slam the drawer shut. The unit shudders, causing a box of cufflinks to the fall to the floor.
I inhale a deep breath and count to ten. There’s no point in me taking my frustration out on my closet, I only have myself to blame. I could kick myself for my big mouth. All I had to do was agree with her and admit defeat. But she needs to know I never wanted a divorce.
There’s a twinge in my lower back as I reach down for the box of cufflinks. Holding my back, I open the drawer where I keep my jewellery and catch sight of the Tiffany green box at the back. The twinge in my back is now in my heart as memories flash through my head like a movie reel.
“If you leave and get on that plane today, don’t bother coming back,” Merry said, with tears pooling in her eyes.
It was one of many arguments we had about my work, but I always came back to the UK and she always forgave me. I guess walking out on her on election day was the final straw. A week later, her ring arrived in a recorded delivery package along with divorce papers.
I should have fought for her. Got on the next flight home and fought for her.
So many years have been wasted.