27. The Call
27
The Call
Omar
I sink back onto my bed and immediately my little ginger furball Zucca, hops onto my lap, tackling my hand which is his favourite game. I’ve grown to love these moments, where I playfully scruff his tiny face or let him dangle from my arms like a furry acrobat. After my conversation with Russ I felt I had to do something but I just couldn’t get myself to call her. I played out at least a thousand scenarios on how the call could go in my head and none of them ended well.
I sent an email to Maria to distract myself. I’m not sure why I checked in on Zucca except that he meant a lot to Bri and maybe I felt that if I took care of him it would be doing something for her. I don’t know. I swear an army of therapists could make a living out of sorting my issues.
Maria replied with some photos of Zucca sleeping alone in a corner whilst the other cats were playing together. I knew there and then that I wanted him. I felt an inexplicable need to have him in my life. He’s this constant reminder of the time with Bri.
Maria had given him all his vaccinations after we dropped him with her and last week he was finally over the twenty one days the UK government requires between vaccinations and travel. I used some of the money I saved during my trip and bought myself a cheap flight. I booked a train for the return journey because I couldn’t face putting Zucca in the cargo hold and there was no flight that would allow me to take him into the cabin.
That tiny ginger furball has me fully under his control already but whatever we do, I always wonder what Bri would do and then it’s not difficult to decide to treat him like the little king he is.
Aside from some texts sent when I got back to the UK confirming everything had been sorted, it’s been quiet between Bri and me. I’ve resisted the urge to send pictures of Zucca to her. I don’t want her to feel like I’m emotionally blackmailing her into more than what we said this thing would be between us.
My phone buzzes, snapping me out of my thoughts. It’s my mum.
“Darling, how are you?”
“Alright, Mum. How’s Iceland?” She and Michael spontaneously decided to take a trip over Christmas. Lately all she does is travel and I’m happy for her. She deserves that after everything she sacrificed for me and my brother.
“It’s beautiful. We saw the Northern Lights yesterday,” she says, her voice full of excitement.
“That’s fantastic, Mum.”
“What about you? What are you doing for Christmas, darling?”
“I’m not doing much. Not really a Christmas person,” I reply, and I can’t help but think maybe I could be if the right person were in my life.
“Omar—"
“Don’t worry about me Mum. I’ve got Zucca.”
“Oh yes, your cat. I never imagined you’d end up with a cat!” she chuckles.
“If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have said the same thing,” I laugh, scratching Zucca’s throat. “But here he is, my little ginger companion.”
“So what changed?” she asks in the voice of a mother who can read her children like a book and knows when something is wrong.
“Not sure,” I reply. Truth is, I’ve changed.
“Fine. Keep secrets from your mother. Are you sure you’ll be okay alone for Christmas? I know Stu would love to have you over.”
“I’m fine, Mum. Really. You have a wonderful time. Say hello to Michael.”
“I will darling. And I’ll call you on Christmas Day.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m doing okay.”
“I always worry about you. It’s what mothers do.”
“Don’t stress. Just enjoy yourself.” I end the call and find myself staring at my phone. I swipe to the gallery and open a photo I’ve been looking at a lot lately. It’s of me and Bri at the Christmas market concert in Salzburg. We both look so happy.
My heart aches with the memory of our time together. I remember our laughter, the way she made everything seem brighter, and how much I miss her. It’s moments like this that remind me just how special the trip was and I can’t help wishing for more time together.
My phone beeps.
Stu
Happy Christmas Eve, little brother. Are you sure you don’t want to join us for Christmas lunch tomorrow?
Me
Did mum call you?
Stu
Might have ;-) But I’d love to have you here, you know that.
Me
I know. But I’m good, please don’t worry. Have a lovely time with the family. Merry Christmas to you all as well!
I know his house will be packed with his in-laws and I’m not sure I’d fit in with a crowd that large this year.
Just as I’m about to put my phone down, it pings again.
Bri
Merry Christmas!
I stare at the message for a moment. After such a long silence her simple words make my heart race. I tell myself not to read too much into a Christmas greeting so I tap out a quick “Merry Christmas!” and, unable to resist, I send her the photo of us at the Christmas market concert.
Her reply comes almost instantly.
Bri
Look how happy we look!
Me
I know, it was a fantastic evening. So, how are you spending your Christmas?
Bri
Oh, just me and Bella. We’ve got a nice lunch planned for tomorrow.
Me
Just you and the cat?
Bri
Yep, my daughter’s staying at her boyfriend’s parents’ house. So it’s just us
Me
Sounds like a peaceful Christmas
No plans on my end either.
Bri
Well, you don’t exactly strike me as a Christmas enthusiast.
Me
Who says that?
Bri
Ahem…me
I press the call button before I can second-guess myself. It rings once and she picks up.
“I’d like to tell you that I think you’ve converted me to a Christmas person,” I say.
“Is that so?” Bri replies with a hint of surprise.
“I even have a tiny Christmas tree.”
“How tiny are we talking?” she asks.
“About 30 centimetres.” I laugh.
“That is the Christmas tree equivalent of bush-dick. So how come you’re not spending Christmas with your family?”
“My brother’s got his in-laws over so it’ll be hectic at his and I didn’t think I’d fit in well with that many people.”
There’s a brief pause and I worry that we’re about to end the call.
“What are you cooking for Christmas dinner?” I ask in desperation to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, I’ve got turkey, pigs in blankets, and Yorkshire pudding,” she says proudly.
“Yorkshire pudding for Christmas?”
“Hell yes! Where there are pigs in blankets there must be Yorkshire puddings.”
“It does sound delicious,” I admit, laughing.
“What about you? Any big plans?” she asks.
“Not really,” I say, leaning back on the bed, Zucca curled up on my lap purring softly. “What have you been up to?”
Bri fills me in on her son’s wedding and all the drama it involved. It feels like we’re picking up right where we left off, as if we’d never been apart.
“I don’t think I ever told you so but your husband sounds like a knobhead.” She snorts at my remark.
“He kind of is a little. Hence the divorce. But the whole situation was ridiculous, it’s ludicrous to think of a younger man finding me attractive.”
“I’m younger. And I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” There’s a sharp intake on the other end of the line but she lets the comment go.
“So what about you?” she diverts the focus to me. There’s one thing I want to tell her, I want to see how she reacts to my big news.
“I turned down the job in Jordan.”
“What? Why?” she asks but it sounds like she’s smiling. Hope spreads through me.
“Because… it just wasn’t for me.”
“Good for you. I like that you follow your heart.” She’s definitely smiling.
“I have an offer from a charity here in London and I start after Christmas.”
“That’s amazing.” There’s genuine happiness in her voice. She asks me more about the job and we end up talking about everything and nothing.
At some point, I glance at my alarm clock and realise it’s way past midnight.
“Oh my God Bri, we’ve been talking for hours. It’s two a.m.”
“Oops! Merry Christmas then,” she says.
“Maybe I should let you get to bed,” I suggest, but I can hear the reluctance in my own voice. I don’t want to end the call.
“Omar, if you have no plans tomorrow would you like to come over for lunch? I’ve got plenty of food and it would be nice to have some company.”
My heart skips a beat. I want to see her and I think she’d love to cuddle Zucca. “Sure, I’d like that. What time?”
“Come over at noon. Actually come at eleven. We can cook together. You can help with the potatoes.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be there at eleven.”
“Great. Night then!”
“Night.”
As I end the call, I can’t help but smile.
“Zucca do you want to meet Bri again?” I ask the ginger furball who is currently attacking my hand.
The thought of seeing her, of giving her a hug, making her smile, it feels like someone just gave me the biggest Christmas present ever.