Page 87 of Sad Girl Hours
“Can you spell ‘duck’ with just a curly ‘c’ on the end and not the ‘k’?” Owen asks thoughtfully.
“Can you spellwhat?” Xander looks panicked.
“Duck, darling,” Eric says swiftly. “Duck. And no, Owen, you can’t. Not in this game.”
“UGH. But I only have a ‘c’.”
“Sorry, bud.”
I can still see Nell’s letters and, while the others bicker, I sneakily remove the ‘o’ and ‘v’ from her spare letters on the rack and move them around with mine.
Naomi is now telling Owen he needs to hurry up and just play a word before she quote ‘dies of boredom’, and I take the excuse to poke Nell. She looks down at what I’ve spelt out and I watch a smile transform her face.
“Love you too,” she whispers.
The game comes to an abrupt end as Bean Burger leaps up on to the board, scattering letters everywhere. Owen cheers in joy, Eric and Xander share matching exhausted expressions, and – even though I was somehow miraculously in the lead and now Beanie Baby has ruined my chances of Scrabble redemption – I still feel as though I’m winning with Nell grinning next to me.
We eat a huge feast of Chinese food after the games are cleared away. Then we set out the milk and cookies for Santa, a carrot for Rudolph and all huddle round the tree.
“All right,” Xander says. “Are you ready for your entirely mysterious Christmas Eve present?”
“It’s Christmas jammy time!” Owen screeches. “YEAH, BOY!”
“Christmas what?” I whisper to Nell.
“Pyjamas. We get a new pair of pyjamas on Christmas Eve that we wear tonight and then to open our presents tomorrow morning. Oh, and we get a book to read tonight when we can’t sleep because we’re too excited. We do it every year.”
“That’s so cute,” I say, watching as Eric starts passing out a gift bag to the twins, then to Nell and Xander, and then finally— “Oh!” There’s a bag being put in front of me. “I’ve got one too?”
“Of course,” Eric says. “You’re an honorary member of the clan this year. You have to have the festive attire to match.”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice a little quieter than I intended. “That’s so kind.”
They both smile ayou’re welcome, and I turn away to open the bag.
“Oh my GOD.” It’s Naomi’s turn to screech now. “DINOSAUR PYJAMAS!”
“Spoilers, Naomi,” says Nell, laughing.
They are, in fact, dino jammies – a soft shirt top and matching bottoms with a print of small dinosaurs wearing Santa hats.
“I’m so sorry,” Nell whispers to me. “You don’t have to wear them if—”
“NO,” I say fiercely, clutching the soft fabric to my body. “I am absolutely wearing these. With pride.”
She smiles. “All right then.”
We vanish to put them on and then come back downstairs. The twins are dancing around together, having been sent a bit feral with pure dinosaur-jammy excitement. Xander and Eric are watching on with love in their eyes. Nell and I complete the set, and Nell insists on taking a picture of us all in front of the tree.
I ask her to show me the photo when we’re back upstairs in her room. I’m lying down on the floor, already thinking that I’m going to find it harder than the twins did to get to sleep. They claimed they were going to try to stay awake all night and finally catch Santa in the act. But, when we looked in on our way past a couple of hours later, they were both dead to the world, Naomi’s book rising up and down on her chest, Owen’s having slipped to the floor.
Nell’s shuffling around, getting comfy up on the bed. “Sure, come and see,” she says.
I get up and sit beside her as she points her phone at me, showing me the photo of us all looking wonderfully ridiculous in our matching pyjamas, smiling at the camera with the tree behind us.
“Incredible,” I say. “Will you send it to me?”
“Of course.” She starts flicking through the rest of the photos we’ve taken this week. There are the ones of our perfect bakingcreations, a photo of the view at the top of the hill, pictures of Bean Burger from every conceivable camera angle, and some of us all outside feeding the pig, goat, chickens, guinea pigs and ducks.
