Chapter 60
Sixty
“ A ren’t you supposed to put a star at the top of the tree? Or an angel or something?” Riley had Ryan in his arms, lifting him up so he could plant a toy troll on top of the Christmas tree.
“Says who?” Ryan huffed. “A troll is a better defence for the presents than a stupid star.”
“You can’t argue with that logic,” Keira chimed in, the rum bottle clinking against her glass as she topped up her drink. Even though her parents had only moved to Greece a few years ago, Keira had spent every Christmas here since she was fifteen.
So far, this Christmas was like any other. Natalie was running about in the kitchen, stressed but refusing help. Keira was slowly working herself up to a happy level of drunk, but my usual job as Ryan Wrangler had been taken by Riley, leaving me to relax.
We’d all been uncertain how well Riley would slot into our close knit family, but it seemed as though he’d always been here.
I watched my nephew following his dad everywhere he went. From speaking to Natalie, I knew their growing relationship was heading for a storm. Ryan had some abandonment to work through and it was going to take a while for him to realise that his dad wasn’t going anywhere.
Since we’d arrived last night, Ryan had two giant tantrums, complete with shouting and throwing things, something he hadn’t done since he was very small.
The first one had been caused by Riley leaving to get more milk without telling him.
The second had been when his mum had suggested he brush his teeth without his dad going with him.
It was hard to watch but Natalie and Riley were patient, and watching how they worked as a team I knew Ryan was going to be fine.
“Hey,” Keira nudged me, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” I smiled, “go easy on the rum. I don’t want to deal with your hangover tomorrow.”
She gasped in mock anger. “But it’s tradition that I’m hungover on Christmas day!”
“Fine but just so you know, Riley has gotten Ryan an air horn for Christmas.”
“He’d better not have,” Natalie muttered as she came in to survey the tree. Usually, we would all decorate it together but this year, we let Riley and Ryan do it as a team. I had a feeling that was going to be a yearly tradition from now on.
“It looks great, lad.” Riley clapped Ryan on the shoulder whilst the rest of us stifled a laugh.
That was a bare faced lie. Ryan had a hatred of traditional Christmas decorations and instead used ones that we’d bought at Halloween.
Our tree was adorned with severed hands and spiders but at least it was unique.
“Lo, can you see if the lights are in the shed?” Natalie asked. “I’ve searched the house but I can’t find them. That’s the only place I haven’t looked yet.”
“Sure,” I nodded, forcing myself out of my comfy spot next to Keira.
“Need some help?” Riley offered.
“I’m coming too.” Ryan grabbed onto Riley’s hand. “I’m the best at finding things.”
It didn’t take us long to find the lights. Ryan took them and ran ahead of us inside, shouting to his mum that he’d found them. Riley and I took our time walking the winding path back to the house. As always, my gaze wandered to the hedgeway, picturing my garden that lay beyond it.
“How’s your garden looking these days?” Riley asked.
“Tired,” I admitted. “It needs some work. I'll get it done before I go back to London.”
Riley brought us to a stop, stuffing his hands in his pockets to ward off the cold. “You know, I’m spending a lot of time here. I’m happy to do it for you while you’re in the city. I’ll be respectful of your ma and gran, I promise.”
I squeezed his arm. “I know you would be. I’ll think about it.”
Riley’s offer had occurred to me before.
I was so busy these days and as my career expanded that was only going to get worse.
My garden was becoming more unkempt and guilt hit me hard every time I came back to it.
The spring was going to be difficult when I was so taken up with working for Imani and building my project.
The weeds would creep in, plants would die off. I felt like it was slipping away.
“So, you’re sticking around, huh?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, I spoke to Alfie—” Riley cut himself off, realising what he’d said.
“It’s okay, you can say his name.” It hurt, it was always going to hurt, but it didn’t gut me the way it used to.
“Well, I spoke to him and he’s not happy about losing me from the international team but he gets it.
Head of landscape architecture for a site like Harrington is my dream job.
Plus I get to be close to my son.” He smiled, joy radiating from his eyes at the thought of the crazy ten year old inside.
I wanted to ask him how Alfie had seemed, if he was happier now, but I didn’t.
It was better if I left him in my memories.
“We should get in, it’s freezing out here.”
“Lo,” he put a hand out, stopping me. “I get why you’ve shut your family away in that garden, I know you want to keep them special to you but I don’t think it’s what they would have wanted.”
My instinct was to snap at him, to tell him he didn’t know them so how could he know what they wanted, that’s what old Lola would have done, but I knew he might have a point.
“It wasn’t intentional. I did it because Ryan had a tendency to break everything in his path when he first moved here. I just wanted them to be somewhere safe.”
“I get that. I think it made sense when you lived here and could visit every day.” He gave a noncommittal shrug that I was coming to learn was one of his trademarks. “The offers there.”
“Dad, where did you go?” Ryan dashed out of the back door. “I thought you were following me?”
“Just chatting with your Auntie Lo about her garden,” Riley answered, his tone light, refusing to overreact to Ryan’s insecurities.
“Oh yeah, we aren't allowed in there. On pain of death.” Ryan’s face was all seriousness as he took his dad’s hand. He’d said the same thing to Alfie once and despite the throbbing shrapnel in my chest, the memory warmed me.
“Maybe it’s time that changed.” My hand went to my necklace, thumb rubbing over the smooth glass as I looked at the gate almost hidden underneath the hedged archway. That had been a sacred space to me for so long, the place I went to keep myself sane.
The idea of sharing it had always filled me with dread, as if I was poisoned and giving away the life-saving antidote. Maybe it was time I realised I wasn’t poisoned. I was strong and I was healthy and I didn’t need any coping mechanism but myself, not anymore.
I took Ryan's other hand. “Would you like to see in there?”
His eyes narrowed as if I might be tricking him and he could get in trouble for saying yes, but still he nodded his head.
“Come on then.”
The three of us walked across the garden but when we reached the gate I hesitated. Ryan tugged on my hand, he was excited to go in. Taking a deep breath I opened the gate, my stomach lurching as they stepped inside ahead of me.
“Woah, it’s very cool in here!” Ryan said, looking around. My garden wasn’t cool, not really, but up until now it had been forbidden and I guessed that qualified it as cool. “What's that?” he asked, pointing up at the tree.
“It’s a cornus controversa,” Riley said, pronouncing the Latin words slowly, “but it’s nicknamed The Wedding Cake tree because the branches grow in three tiers, see? In the spring it will be covered in white flowers and it’ll look like a cake.”
Ryan stared up at the tree and I could see him trying to imagine how the tree might look when it bloomed. I knelt next to him, taking his hand to get his attention.
“Ryan, this tree is very special to me. You remember that my mum and gran passed away?” I said and he nodded. “They were cremated after they died and their ashes are buried under that tree. I know you like to play and be silly but in here I need you to be very careful, okay?”
“Okay.” His mouth bunched up in a thoughtful pout as he processed the very important responsibility I’d just given to him.
I prepared to be pelted with questions but instead he turned back to the tree and shouted, “Merry Christmas!” at the spot where my mum and gran were buried.
I broke out laughing as my bubble burst.
Ryan let go of me to explore more of the garden and I watched from the gateway as Riley walked him around, talking to him about each plant and what they would look like when they came back to life.
“Hey, what's going on out here?” Natalie stepped out of the backdoor. She hurried over, a half-drunk Keira following behind her. “Did Ryan let himself in? Oh Lo, I’m so sorry! I told him he’s not allowed?—”
“It’s fine. I told him he could. It’s time.” I stepped aside and after hesitating for a moment, she stepped inside too.
As I watched the three of them, my best friend's hand slipped into mine. She didn’t say anything, but she was there and that was all I needed. Riley looked content with one hand holding Ryan’s, the other wrapped around my sister’s waist. I was so happy for them.
“Auntie Lo, can I write my stories in here?” Ryan’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. He was climbing up onto the swing seat that sat nestled between beds of bleeding hearts. “I can sit in this seat and see, it has a roof so I won't get wet when it rains.”
The vision made me happy. “Yeah, of course you can. But only if your mum says it’s warm enough.”
“Okay! I can tell all my stories to your mum and gran too! Did they like pirates?” He swung on the seat the same way I had a thousand times and suddenly, every emotion hit me in a wave. “Auntie Lo?”
I forced a smile on my face. “My gran definitely liked pirates.”
Natalie must have caught the crack in my voice because she suddenly clapped her hands together. “Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s freezing and I’ve left the oven on.” She ushered Ryan out with promises that he could explore more tomorrow.
Riley paused as he passed me. “After Christmas you can show me how you like things to be done.”
I nodded. “Thanks Riley.”
Keira squeezed my hand, dark eyes searching mine to see if I was okay.
I was. This kind of grief was an endless process but this was a good step for me.
“Can I have a moment in there?” she asked and I stepped away, giving her some privacy. It was easy for me to forget that Keira had grown up spending more time at my house than she did her own. My gran had practically raised her, I knew she missed her and my mum too.
Her eyes were red when she reappeared a few moments later and she pulled me into a hug. “Do you think they’d be proud of us?”
“Definitely,” I whispered back. I didn’t doubt it for a moment.
Later, Keira and I snuggled into my old, creaking bed, listening to the faint sounds of Natalie and Riley wrapping the last of Ryan's presents downstairs.
Sleep was coming to claim me when Keira gave me a gentle nudge. “Hey Lo?”
“I’m not getting you more rum.”
She chuckled a tipsy laugh. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“What’s up?”
She was silent for long enough that I turned over to find her staring at the ceiling. “Do you still think about him?”
Alfie.
The name that was never spoken these days.
He wasn’t a taboo subject, he wasn’t exactly the elephant in the room either.
He was a painful fact that we didn’t need to touch anymore but I knew Keira had questions, I knew she worried.
Just as I worried about what was happening between her and Damien.
Somewhere along the way she and I had switched places.
I had become the worried friend, she the one with the secrets.
“I’ll always think about him but I don’t dream about him, not anymore.”
Sometime over the last few weeks, my subconscious had let him go. The shrapnel remained, an immovable object in my being, but I didn’t hate it. I missed Alfie but I could breathe without him now.
“I’m really fucking proud of you, you know that?”
“Ditto.” I smiled at her. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed back.
“I never thought I’d say this but I’m kind of proud of him too.”
“Yeah, so am I.” I didn’t think there would ever be a day when I wasn’t proud of Alfie Tell.
I saw him in the cracks in my walls, heard his step in the creak of my broken floorboard.
I closed my eyes, conjuring up a memory of him, any memory that wanted to come to me.
Just like that, I could feel his skin on mine.
Yes, I missed him. But it also felt right that he was gone. I didn’t doubt that he was out there somewhere, remembering my obsession with blueberry muffins, my hair that he loved so much.
I knew he would keep me safe in his memories the way I would always keep him.
He would stay a gentle possibility, a hope no louder than the flutter of a hummingbird's wings.
It would sit in my chest, beating its own steady rhythm alongside my heart, a hope that would one day be met, but maybe it never would and that was okay too.
I rolled over, pressing my face into the pillow as sleep came for me. His name was the last thing on my lips, his face the last thing I saw, as it always was, as it ever would be.