Page 61 of Only Ever You

He wasn’t cold. Just contemplating the stagnancy of his life.

On the other side of his mother, Arthur formed the bridge of peace between her and Uncle Mortimer who’d decided to grace the family with his presence. Though would it kill him to smile for the sake of the girls?

Some of the questions Faye asked on the walk had cropped up again in Bash’s thoughts once or twice since they’d returned home from their impromptu shopping trip.

Would you ever like to make up with him?

Would you want a better relationship?

Bash had tried, he really had, for most of his adult life since being old enough to recognise that the patterns in Mortimer’s behaviour towards them weren’t exactly healthy for his state of mind. His therapist had pointed it out one session and so many different segments in his memory – recollections of conversations or evenlooks –clicked together all at once.

He didn’tlikenot getting along, and he wasn’t so self-centred that he needed everybody to like him. Though when it was his own family member, he didn’t want to be made to feel like he was the disappointment Mortimer implied he was with every interaction.

The sirens of Santa’s fire engine grew closer and closer and Maya bounced up and down without her feet ever leaving the ground. Then the red vehicle emerged, eighties Christmas music blaring and sirens beeping, covered bumper to bumper in garlands of tinsel.

Maya squealed and clapped her hand to her short arm.

Faye twisted and her eyes sought Bash out like she’d thought they were joking about this local tradition. He simply smiled and nudged for her to watch up ahead.

Members of the fire crew walked alongside the fire engine in their navy station wear with collection buckets for charities, followed by who Bash assumed were the crew’s family members. The light up hats were a nice touch, he thought.

And sat atop the truck in an opulently illuminated chair was the main man himself.Santa Claus… aka a volunteer in a hired suit, but Bash wasn’t so much of a douche as to point that out.

Santawaved at the hundred people or so who waved and cheered back at him. Except for Bash, who was happy to keep his hands where they were;warmin his pockets. Faye had a different idea though and pried one out by his wrist, making him wave with her, only to drop his hand and cover her ears when the fire engine crawled past them at a momentously slow speed.

It was bloody loud from only fifteen feet away, causing Bash’s back teeth to grind, but he grinned and bared it for the excitement on his nieces’ faces.

Anybody would think by their toothless smiles that it was Christmas.

Collection buckets rattled encouragingly as the fire fighters walked by. The cash machine at the supermarket had been a pit stop earlier and Bash drew his wallet out from his pocket, folding a bundle of twenties to slide within the slot lid of a bucket.

His parents were next, then Bash glued his eyes to the bucket to see what Mortimer might add: a measly few copper pennies whilst he checked the time on his smart watch.

Towards the end of the street, the truck stopped, and the ringing in Bash’s ears eventually did too.

Santajumped down from his seat with a merriment of “Ho Ho Ho’s” as he patted the rounded padding of his belly. Imara tugged Matt off in that direction. Like a whippet bolting on the end of a short lead, she stood with them one second and was in front of Santa the next.

A bench trimmed with red and white tinsel like a candy cane appeared from somewhere, and Santa sat himself down. Various lids of Thermos mugs were unscrewed and cups of steaming beverages were passed between the fire crew while Michèle busied herself with taking photos of her granddaughters and everything else in sight.

Lest they lose her to the crowd, Bash stayed by Faye’s side on the vague outskirts, out of the way of the young families moving their children forwards.

“Mmm,” he hummed by her ear. “Uniforms.”

She backhanded his stomach, making a splash of the tea he tried to pour hit his glove, and he laughed. Any way and every way, he would tease her about this.

“Do you see anypolesyou’d like to climb?” Bash just couldn’t resist, and finally Faye cracked a grin brighter than the glare off of the fire engine’s multi-coloured string lights.

“You’re an idiot.”

He offered out the filled Thermos lid, unable to stop the twitch of his lips. “So you tell me.”

“I do it with love.”

For a second too long, Bash looked down at her, and the molten, gooey feeling within him stirred at the “L” word.

“I know you do.” He really did. Faye’s “idiot” didn’t really meanidiot,it meant “one who makes me smile.” So he would gladly take the mantle of her idiot any day.

Both of Faye’s tiny hands wrapped around the makeshift mug like it was her entire heat source. Unconsciously, Bash shifted closer like a human windbreaker.