Chapter Six
I wouldn’t be surprised if the buses were canceled or an asteroid came down and destroyed us all, but neither happens. The bus arrives. We get on just fine and we trundle down the road back to the apartment in no time.
As soon as I open the door, Tiernan goes running inside with the teddy bear, which makes me slightly worried because the last thing I need is for him to get attached to the thing and then for Christian to come and take it away.
I’m also pretty sure Santa closed up shop three weeks ago when I hid everything in my parents’ attic.
I slip my shoes off and drag the pram in, shutting the door with my heel and almost walking straight into Tiernan who’s standing motionless in the hallway, staring at the living room.
“Honey, move,” I tell him, only to freeze when I see what’s caught his attention.
Oh.
For one panicked moment, I think I’ve walked into the wrong apartment. But no. That’s my table. That’s my couch. That’s my stuff. It’s just that I’m able to walk freely without bumping into anything. There are no piles of laundry anywhere. No lingering smell that I can’t find the source of.
The place is spotless.
More than spotless. Deep cleaned. Swept, hoovered, sparkling. Smelling pleasantly of peppermint and pine. It’s also exceedingly more festive than it was when I left it.
My kind of festive, though. Restrained. A set of candles by the door. An elegant silver star hanging above the kitchen island. And a beautiful tree in the corner, decorated in twinkling gold lights and a handful of ornaments.
Well, at least I know where the pine smell is coming from.
“Someone’s been … in here,” I say, trying not to terrify him even though I have no idea what’s going on.
Tiernan’s voice is hushed. “Santa?”
“Maybe,” I say, gazing around our spotless home. “Or that de-cluttering lady.” Or maybe it really was so bad that even a burglar felt sorry for me. But I don’t sense anything wrong. If anything, I feel calmer. More like myself now that everything looks as it should.
After making sure no one’s about to jump out from behind the curtains and shout surprise, I let my child run free and put the cheese in my odorless, reorganized fridge.
I’m just about to call Sinead to ask if she had something to do with this when Tiernan emerges from his room with a purple-wrapped box in his hand.
“There was a present on my bed,” he whispers like it’s a big secret. “My name’s on it.”
“You can open it,” I say because I’m nothing if not indulgent. “Be careful, though.”
He immediately crouches to the floor and slowly tears open the packaging to reveal a toy car to add to his collection.
“Oh wow!” I coo when he holds it up to me. “Does it make noise?”
He fiddles with it for a second. “No.”
“Cool!” Thank god. “Does it have a card?”
He shakes his head as my phone rings in my hand. “Not Santa then,” I say as I click answer. “Santa loves cards. Hello?”
“Hey,” Christian’s voice crackles at the end of the line. In the background, I can hear the clink of glasses and Christmas music. “I’m at the pub.”
“Okay? Congratulations?”
“Thanks.” He sounds amused. “Are you meeting me or what?”
The teddy bear. I groan. “We just got back. Are you not supposed to be at your awards thing?”
“We’re getting a drink first.”
“Tiernan needs a bath,” I begin, but Christian cuts me off.
“Bring him. There’s a Santa here.”
I frown. “Seriously?”
“Would I joke about Santa?”
He would never. I glance at Tiernan playing with the car.
“Fine,” I sigh. “But there better be Tuscan nougat.”
“What?”
I hang up and smile encouragingly at my son. “Want a vodka cranberry?”
*
We get our shoes back on and bring his new toy with us as we head down, hand in hand.
The nap at the church seems to have done the trick, and Tiernan is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by the time we get to the pub.
I’m feeling a bit better myself now that my home is in order.
It’s amazing what clean counters and hoovered floors can do for you. Especially when—
“SURPRISE!”
Tiernan jumps beside me, clutching my hand tight as he gazes around. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I’ve just lost four to five years of my life.
The pub is packed. But not like it usually is.
With tech bros and finance guys and lost tourists.
Tonight, it’s with people I know. Friends and family and colleagues.
I think I even spy my dentist in the corner, which is kind of weird, but before I can investigate, someone loops an arm around my shoulder, and I turn to see Sinead.
“What the hell?” I mutter behind a fake smile.
She just grins. “Happy Christmas,” she says. “And Happy Almost Birthday!” she says to Tiernan, who shows her his car.
“Where did you get that from?” she gasps with an exaggerated wink at me as she crouches down.
My mother takes the opportunity to come in for a hug. “The cheese was a ruse! It was all Christian’s idea.” She holds me tight, mindful of my arm. “He’s not just a pretty face, you know. Though he is very pretty.”
Dad meets my eye over her shoulder.
Two brandies, he mouths.
“You’ve got a lot of people who care a lot about you,” Mam continues in my ear. “You’re a lucky girl to be so loved. And we’re lucky to have you.”
The familiar eye sting is back again, and it takes a moment before I can let her go.
“There’s someone here to see you,” she adds to Tiernan, holding out her hand.
Tiernan’s already spotted the red-suited, white-bearded man in the corner, and he stares in awe as Santa Claus himself waves and patiently waits for him to approach.
“Go on,” I say, nudging him, and he slowly overcomes his shyness, going with his grandmother as I catch a smirking face by the bar.
“Christian Fitzpatrick, did you clean my house?” I ask as I approach.
“No,” he says. “I paid someone else to do it.”
“And then supervised,” Megan pipes up. She appears next to him with a tray of drinks.
“What about your awards dinner?” I ask, and Christian shrugs.
“I don’t need praise.”
“Bullshit. You love praise.”
“I love you and Tiernan more though.”
“Don’t be earnest,” I tell him. “It freaks me out.” But I give his arm a squeeze, knowing he knows how much this means to me. “There’s no raffle, is there?” I ask Megan.
“Had to get you out of the house somehow.”
“And the giant ass teddy bear?”
“I just thought it would be funny,” Christian says.
“I hate you.”
“You’ll forgive me.”
And I let it go because I will. I already have.
“Are you surprised?” he asks.
“Very.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “I know.”
He passes me my drink as I settle next to them against the bar.
“How much exactly does Santa charge this close to the big day?” I ask, watching Father Christmas bend his head to listen to Tiernan no doubt asking for something extremely expensive.
“It’s called a work credit card, Zoe. I’ve never claimed to be a saint.”
Which reminds me. I narrow my eyes as he sips his water. “Please tell me you didn’t hire that drunk guy in the church.”
“What?”
Oh. “I’ll tell you another time.”
He shakes his head, amused. “You know we’re all here for you, right? Any time. Anywhere. You’re allowed to ask for help.”
“I know,” I say, even though it still goes against every fibre of my being. “And I promise you can clean my house whenever you want.”
“Not what I meant.”
“And yet that’s the lesson I have chosen to learn.”
“Baby steps,” Megan reminds him, and holds up her glass. “Happy Christmas, you guys.”
The three of us clink as I watch my tipsy mother drag my father out for a dance.
Someone turns the music up as Sinead drapes a string of tinsel around my neck, and I realize my mam was right.
Most people on this earth would be fortunate to have one person to love, and I have a whole room of them. You can’t get much luckier than that.