Page 69 of Every Christmas Eve
‘She’s gone quiet, bless her,’ I reply. ‘We’ve arranged a video call on Christmas Day to open presents together. Thank goodness for technology is all I can say.’
I stifle a yawn, which makes my eyes glisten. As a headache brews, I’m reminded of how the events of the weekend have taken their toll in more ways than one. As well as the head-spinning reconnection with Ben, our heated row over that silly Olivia Major, Gracie’s decision to stay with her dad for Christmas, and yesterday’s boozy lunch with Cordelia, I’ve been unable to think straight.
‘You’re exhausted, Lou,’ Mum tells me while folding a stack of fresh tea towels. She’s had her hair done again in time for the festivities and looks as fresh and radiant as ever. ‘It’s not like you to be so quiet or defeated, even if Gracie’s Christmas plans are a disappointment. Is there anything else I can do to help ease the pressure?’
I let out a long sigh, the type reserved for only someone who I can be fully honest with.
‘I’ll be fine, I’m just licking my wounds,’ I tell her. ‘Ah, I was so looking forward to having her here with us all on Christmas Day. On top of that, I was so glad of the rush and excitement of helping organise the big Ballyheaney House party, but now I’m feeling like it’s not my place to be there after all.’
‘Now that’s very hard to believe,’ says Mum. ‘You were once part of the furniture up there, especially at this timeof year. What’s happened? Is it anything to do with Ben Heaney?’
I turn my back to her, pretending to be busy at the sink while I do my best to stay in control. My nose tingles, my throat tightens, and a loud involuntary sniffle gives the game away.
‘It’s everything, Mum. It’s Ben, it’s me, it’s the fear of being hurt again, it’s love and regret and a whole lot of other things,’ I say, feeling her gentle arm around my waist. She leans her head on my right shoulder. ‘I broke his heart once before – badly, Mum. Worse than I thought I did, but I was an absolute wreck too. I know I ran away from it all and I didn’t tell you about Ben, but you were already struggling with me packing up and leaving for New York. I’m so sorry.’
Mum sits me down on a little stool out of sight of customers, tells Nana Molly that she is in charge out front, and gets me a strong cup of sweet tea as I tell her about my afternoon with Cordelia and then, more importantly, the truth about Ben.
‘So, I dropped out of uni in April, Gracie was born in August and we moved to New York in October,’ I remind her. ‘Ben and I had been messaging a little. He’d heard I’d had my baby and wanted to see how I was feeling. Then he booked a flight from Paris and landed literally at our doorstep out of the blue.’
‘Jeez, that was a big gesture,’ she says, all ears.
‘A very big gesture,’ I agree with her. ‘It almost put me and him over the edge. I think it made everything harder, which was not his intention. But it did.’
Mum does her best to be a neutral, understanding ear, but I know this is a huge bolt out of the blue. As I tell her more about Ben’s eleventh-hour visit when my bags were packed for New York in the hallway, I see tears fill her eyes.
‘What did he suggest to you?’ she asks me. ‘Does anyone else know about this?’
‘No one else has ever known,’ I tell her. ‘You had taken the baby out for a walk, John was saying his goodbyes in Belfast to all his mates, and I was having a quiet moment to myself before I left Bellaghy for a place I’d only ever holidayed in. I was terrified, Mum, but I was excited too. John’s job offer was a huge opportunity. They’d lined us up with an apartment and a car as part of his deal, so it was an offer we couldn’t refuse. Then there was a knock at the door, and it was Ben.’
Mum stares into space for a moment while I gather my thoughts.
‘He asked you to stay, didn’t he?’ she says, her voice cracking. ‘And you said no.’
I bite my lip. I look her in the eye.
‘He said he’d look after me and Gracie if I’d stay,’ I whisper.
Mum sits back on the stool and leans against the wall as it all sinks in. Then, as if it were a magic potion, she sits up straight and comes slightly towards me with new vigour.
‘I suspect you two still adore each other,’ she tells me.
‘I do too,’ I say, briefly closing my eyes. ‘That will never change.’
‘So please don’t hurt each other again,’ she says. ‘I think both of you have been through enough heartache already.’
I take a deep breath.
‘Which is why I’ve made a very difficult decision,’ I say to her. ‘Ben has lost his wife, he deserves only the very best for himself and Ava from now on, so I’m stepping back for both of our sakes. I’ve really enjoyed helping out this far, but I’m not going to the party on Christmas Eve after all.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,’ she tells me. ‘I was trying to say you should both learn from the past, that’s all.’
But I’ve already made up my mind. There’s too much hurt. Too much water under the bridge. Too many skeletons in the cupboard, cobwebbed and dusty after so many years.
‘I think it’s best for all if I stay away to save any more old wounds from opening. I’ve done as much as I can to help, and I loved every minute of it.’
Mum’s face is a mixture of confusion and pity, though I know we can’t chat for much longer. Things are heating up out front, and it won’t be long before Nana Molly needs help.
Now that I’ve stopped talking, I realise Mum has been holding my hand the whole time.
