Page 8 of Every Christmas Eve
‘I hate this time of year so much,’ she announces. ‘And I hate that I hate it, because we used to love Christmas when she was here, didn’t we, Dad? Didn’t Mum love Christmas? Didn’t she love decorating the tree and cooking lots of nice things for us?’
I nod in agreement. ‘She did, baby,’ I say. ‘She loved it all.’
Roly whimpers in what sounds like support but is probably his way of letting us know how he’d love to be up on the soft duvet, casually tearing apart the photos Ava has taken from an old family album.
I gather up the photos, doing my best not to look too closely at the smiling faces that stare back at me. Our first Christmas as a family of three, then four when Roly came along as a puppy a couple of years later. It was Stephanie’sidea to get a dog, insisting that Ava had the love of an animal in her life the way I had back at home in Ballyheaney House when I was a boy. I wasn’t so sure back then, but now I couldn’t be more relieved that we have him to look after, because otherwise there would still be days when neither Ava nor I want to get up out of bed.
Roly, with his acrobatics that got him his name and his big dog energy, keeps us sane more than he could ever know it.
‘You sure you’ll be OK?’ I ask when I get to the bedroom door, but Ava is already tucked under the duvet, curled into a ball with the comfort of her iPad for company. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, then.’
‘Everything still feels so empty here, no matter how much I try to fill the house with noise or decorations or people at this time of year,’ I explain to my business partner, Matt, when he pops by on his way home from playing a game of squash after work. ‘I know that Ava feels it too, no matter how hard we try to make it work without her mother.’
‘But you’ve both been doing so well,’ he reminds me.
‘I suppose we have,’ I reply. ‘I think we’re doing well, until something like Christmas comes along and we’re back to square one. This house is never going to feel like home again, I fear.’
Matt is usually a great listener, but he seems engrossed in my new Christmas decor as I spill out my guts to him.
‘I hear you, buddy, but this house isn’t empty. It’s modern and it’s magnificent,’ he tells me as he absorbs the elaborategold-and-green colour scheme that embraces every room on the bottom floor of my south County Dublin home. ‘It doesn’t look empty, nor does it feel empty to me. You’ve done a pretty neat job on Christmas this year, Ben. I’m going to have to keep Vic away from here until I manage to make more of an effort at our place.’
‘What can I say, I do my best,’ I reply, wondering if he really believes I’m fully responsible for all these decorations. ‘Preparing for those parties at Ballyheaney House served me well in my youth.’
There’s a spectacular tree in the hallway by the red front door, another splendid display in the sitting room and an extra-large bushy tree sits twinkling by the floor-to-ceiling window in the dining area just off the kitchen, where we chat over a home-made smoothie.
‘I suppose that makes sense, but I didn’t know you were allthatcreative, Ben,’ he says. ‘I’m genuinely impressed. I mean, with our vet business, and your daughter, and the fitness regime, where did you even have the time to find your artistic streak? It’s a prize-winning display, man.’
‘I’m very much apart-timevet in our practice these days,’ I remind Matt, which makes a change from him reminding me about it since I decided to cut back my hours to a three-day week. ‘I’m a part-time vet and very much a full-time dad, but come on, surely you don’t believe I chose all of this myself?’
‘Ah!’
‘I’m good, but not that good, I’m afraid,’ I confess as a look of relief takes over Matt’s face.
‘You could have got away with that,’ he laughs. ‘Am I always this gullible?’
‘Hmm.’ I laugh. ‘I won’t answer that. No, I hired a company from the city who promised to createa festive atmosphere in your home that will fill your heart and soothe your soul.I’m not sure I got my full money’s worth on the last bit. It is pretty, though.’
Matt shrugs his shoulders. ‘It’s all very impressive to me, but I hear what you’re saying,’ he replies. ‘I don’t think companies like that can change how you feel, no matter what they promise.’
We sit for a short moment in silence, staring at the lights and the colours as I wonder why I ever thought it would make Ava feel better.
‘Ah, I dunno any more,’ I say, putting my head in my hands. I rub my face, then lean back on the kitchen chair with my hands behind my head. ‘No matter what I do, it never feels like it’s enough to make Christmas special again. Even after all these years it feels like something or someone’s missing, and that’s because she very muchismissing. Steph is gone, and she isn’t coming back.’
I curse myself for how I can say her name now without feeling the sting that used to pierce my heart so badly. I hate that it’s getting easier. Part of me wants to make it all better for Ava, yet another part of me wants to wallow in the loss forever, because that’s what I feel Steph deserves even if it’s the last thing she said she wanted.
‘I’ve been thinking that maybe I should sell up and startagain somewhere brand new, Matt,’ I say suddenly. ‘What do you reckon?’
Matt almost chokes on his smoothie. We’ve both been on a no-alcohol, gym-going kick for three months now and the results are showing, even if it will all no doubt go down the drain come Christmas.
‘You’re kidding, right?’ he says. Matt shakes his head and looks back at me with concern. He and his wife, Victoria, have been best friends with me and Steph right from the start, when we set up home here in south County Dublin fifteen years ago as newlyweds without a care in the world and with no idea what the future had planned for us both.
‘Ah, it’s so hard to be happy when your kid’s unhappy,’ I say, wondering if I should go upstairs and check on Ava, or leave her to scroll through her favourite videos like she said she wanted to do for a while longer. ‘I feel like we need a change or something new. Fresh energy, you know? It’s been six years and right now I’m worn out, Matt. I’m exhausted. But I promised Stephanie I wouldn’t wallow forever, nor would I let Ava do so. It’s time for us both to decide what we want in life and really go for it.’
Matt raises an eyebrow. His eyes light up.
‘You mean … do you think you’re ready to get back on the dating horse again?’ he asks me.
‘I didn’t say that.’
