Chapter 12
The girls were all picked up and Isla went to bed happy and still giggling about her dad giving himself a pedicure.
“Thank you so much for today,” Alastair said to Rose as they finished clearing up. “And not just because my feet do feel silky smooth. Isla had a fantastic time. You were right about me staying out of the way.”
“Yeah . . .” Their eyes met and Rose felt her cheeks warm as neither of them looked away for several seconds. One of the dogs scratched at the back door, breaking the moment.
“I can’t believe she’ll be a teenager soon. That’s just . . . terrifying,” Alastair said, opening the back door for the dog and letting a blast of freezing air in.
“It’ll be fine! She’s a great kid, and you’re a great dad.”
“Thank you,” said Alastair. “That means an awful lot from you.”
“I’d better get to bed. Big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Alastair sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It seems like you’ve got everything sorted for my family descending upon us.”
“It’ll be a fantastic Christmas,” reassured Rose.
“I don’t doubt that you’ll do a great job . . . I just struggle with this time of year.” He gave another sigh and looked at Rose, seeming to be deciding something about her. Apparently she’d passed whatever test it was because he said, “My wife left me on Christmas Eve when Isla was nine months old. She left a note saying that she wasn’t cut out to be a wife and mother. She moved back to America where she was from.”
Rose put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my goodness . . . that’s . . . that’s terrible. At Christmas too!”
“Yeah, it does sort of put you off the festive season, to be honest.” Alastair’s smile was sad.
“Has Isla seen her mother since? She hasn’t mentioned her.”
“No, I tried to convince Marie to have some contact, but she’s refused. I have an address and contact number, but I’ve got no idea if they still work. The last time I spoke to her was a few months after she left. Unless you count communications through solicitors when we divorced soon afterwards.”
“Does she pay child maintenance? Is she in a position to do so?” Rose was surprised at herself for asking this. She half expected Alastair to tell her to mind her own business, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“No, my solicitor tried to convince me to push for it, but if she doesn’t want anything to do with Isla, then I certainly don’t want her money. Also, I have full custody and I want to put myself in the best position in case Marie ever decides she wants Isla to move to the US with her. I can’t imagine that happening, honestly, but . . . I guess you never know.”
“Wow. I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
Rose felt the urge to hug Alastair but held back. Would hugging him be completely inappropriate? She really wanted to though.
“So, yeah, anyway, that’s why I’m such a Scrooge,” he concluded. He let the dog back in.
“You’re not a Scrooge,” said Rose firmly. She took a deep breath before saying, “My mum passed away last Christmas. She had cancer and she died on Boxing Day.”
“Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry.” And there was the hug. She found herself enveloped in his arms. Her cheek against his strong chest. She felt her eyes pricking with tears.
“Thank you,” Rose finally managed to say, looking up at his face. It felt so comforting to be held in his arms. “It was . . . a horrible time. I’d planned to completely ignore Christmas this year, to be honest.”
“By working in a Christmas shop?”
“It was the only work I could find at the time,” Rose explained as she reluctantly stepped back. She sat down at the table. Alastair joined her wordlessly. “I left my job when Mum found out she was sick, moved back in with her, and became her carer. After she died I was just too broken to go back into organising parties and events for people. I didn’t want to be around anyone, actually. But eventually, I had to find some work so I’ve been doing random jobs for the past several months, waiting until I felt strong enough to decide what I want to do with my life.” She fiddled with a gel pen Isla must have left out as she talked.
“I can understand that. I’m guessing you don’t have any siblings?”
“No . . . it was always just me and Mum.”
“That’s tough,” Alastair said, gently. “My parents passed away before Isla was born. Car crash. I was just out of university. I was so grateful to have my sister, Fiona, to share my grief with, especially during that first year. I don’t know how well I would have managed without her.”
“That’s so sad,” Rose said. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She sighed. “I really shouldn’t be unloading all my woes on you.”
“I believe I started it,” said Alastair with a smile. “And I’m glad I’ve told you about Marie. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about your mum.”
“Christmas can be a really strange time,” Rose said.
“Agreed . . . But this is the first year I can remember that I’m not absolutely dreading it, thanks to you.”
“I’m glad.” Rose smiled.
“And Isla is going to have a wonderful time,” Alastair reassured her. “She’s so excited to have her cousins here. It makes me feel bad for not doing it before, but . . .”
“You couldn’t, I get it, they get it. I’ve got lots of fun stuff planned to keep the kids busy. They’re going to have a great time.”