Page 26 of Every Christmas Eve
The little coffee corner of my shop is now empty after a busy day, thank goodness. I’m also thankful that Nana has the sense to make her way across the shop floor to talk more flowers with Ava. I know I’ll be quizzed intensively about this later, but that’s the least of my worries.
Apart from the joy of bringing up Gracie and loving every single part of her childhood and teenage years in America, it’s almost like the past twenty years of my life hadn’t existed.
Physically, Ben hasn’t changed that much, apart from perhaps how his hair is greying a little at the temples. His eyes are intense and observant, yet full of life experiences I know nothing about.
I have so many questions I don’t know where to start.
‘Your daughter is beautiful,’ I whisper, feeling my voice tremble. Tears sting my eyes, even though I had promised myself for years that if our paths ever did cross again, I wouldn’t be emotional. ‘How is she?’
He licks his lips and brightens up at the mention of Ava. We both glance in her direction, where she is talking ten to the dozen about roses now.
‘She’s very excited to be back here,’ he says. ‘I’d forgotten how this place gets under your skin. I fear it may have already had an impact on my daughter too. I might have a battle on my hands to get her to come home.’
I feel that old familiar pull, like a magnetic force between us. I see a familiar hunger in his eyes and all I want to do is touch him or hold him tight. His broad shoulders taper into a trim waist beneath his black woollen coat that lies open to reveal a fine beige jumper. As always, his style is timeless, refined and classy. I want to stand closer to him, but he isn’t mine any more.
I’m not sure if he ever really was.
‘I feel the same about being back home, even though I sometimes question my decision to come back for good,’ I reply. ‘It’s my first Christmas here in a very long time. I’m excited for it too.’
He beams, but his eyes tell a different story.
‘I hope it all works out for you,’ he tells me.
‘Me too.’
My mind goes blank, and I feel his has also. We don’t know each other any more. We are simply strangerswith a bank of old memories, with nothing more to say. I had this all so well rehearsed, but now that we’re under the same roof again for the first time in forever, it’s like my mind has been erased and only a wave of deep sadness is left.
But then he whispers, ‘It’s so, so good to see you, Lou.’ He bites his lip. ‘I’ve thought about this moment many, many times since we said goodbye.’
‘So have I,’ I reply immediately.
Suddenly I’ve so much to say, like my brain has finally caught up with my tongue, but Ava and Nana Molly come waltzing back in our direction, armed with flowers and looking very pleased with themselves, just in time to burst our bubble.
I wish my heart rate would slow down, or that I could press pause on what’s going on around us so I can say what I want to say.
But I can’t do that in front of an audience.
‘I’ve chosen a bouquet of amaryllis for Grandma, Dad,’ says Ava. ‘Red ones even though I prefer white, and Nana Molly thinks Uncle Eric might like a holly wreath for the front door of Ballyheaney House. She says it will be right up his street.’
I marvel at how most children who meet my grandmother are invited to call her Nana Molly, just like back in the day when everyone referred to Ben’s Uncle Eric as so.
‘Very well chosen, Mrs Cooke,’ says Ben, more than impressed. ‘My wonderful uncle has always had a love for holly at this time of year, but he doesn’t have the energyto gather it from the gardens the way he used to. He’ll be delighted with this.’
‘I sometimes think my grandmother has a sixth sense,’ I say. ‘Ava, it’s so nice to meet you. My name’s Lou and I’m an old friend of your dad’s.’
Ben’s eyes catch mine as the phrase brings back an old memory. Neither of us can resist a smile.
‘You’re very pretty,’ Ava tells me. Now that she’s closer, I can see her beautiful heart-shaped face and her haunting brown eyes, which are a duplicate of her mother’s, if my memory serves me right.
I’d never met Stephanie Robinson Heaney, but my mother couldn’t wait to send me a photo of their wedding when it made the newspaper.
‘She’s a doctor from Castlebar in Mayo, if you don’t mind,’ she told me over the phone after sending me the press clipping by email. ‘Apparently, they met on a train when travelling across Europe! How romantic! I’d say that dress cost the price of a small car! She reminds me of the actor inPretty Woman. What’s her name again?’
I had to dig deep to find any sign of happiness for Ben within me, while resisting the urge to be physically sick on my own behalf.
How did we get it so wrong?
‘I like your red headscarf,’ Ava continues. ‘My teacher wears one of those too sometimes. We think she fancies Dad.’
