Page 100 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
He puts a hand over mine on the railings. We’re close; maybe too close. And for a moment, something overtakes my good sense. We can blame Christmas, the arctic outdoor setting or the fact that someone of the opposite sex has expressed an outpouring of emotion to me, to my sad lonely face. But there’s something that draws us together and suddenly we’re kissing, on the lips. His lips melt into mine and part slightly. Shit. I am snogging Sean. Then he backs away.
‘Woah there, sailor,’ I say, shocked, wide-eyed. We don’t do that. That’s not what we do. I don’t know how to react. I shouldn’t have done it and I know why I did it. Revenge snog? Tit for tat? He was there, he said something nice.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, snapping out of the moment.
‘That was…’
‘Nice but you’re Beth. It’s like kissing…’
‘A cousin?’
‘I was thinking more a sister.’ His body shudders and we both erupt into laughter. ‘You’re confused about Will. Figure that all out. I’d kiss you any day of the week if you weren’t Beth. I love you to bits, you know that, right?’
And I get it completely. I love him too. I’d show up for him. I’d defend him, visit him in hospital, write him the best character reference ever, but even in this semi-romantic setting with The Pogues on in the background and the fairy lights on high twinkle, I don’t love him. Not like that.
‘You’re getting emosh on me now,’ I say.
‘I’m leaving, I’m allowed. Few more drinks and I’ll love everyone in there.’
‘I feel really special now.’
He brings me in for a hug and kisses me on the forehead. You’re not supposed to do that either, that’s Will’s move.
‘I hope things work out with Will. I really do,’ he says, holding me back and looking into my eyes. ‘You and Joe deserve the world.’
I never know what people mean when they say that. It sounds greedy, like I deserve itall. Every pound, penny, mansion, holiday, comfort; everything your heart desires and needs. But in reality my world is so small, and yet it is all I need. My world is Joe. It’s someone else who isn’t here who I love. More than all the world. That would be everything.
‘I deserve another beer,’ I say instead.
‘Smooth, but not very subtle. Such a cheapskate.’
‘And just like that, we’ve found the wording for your Tinder profile.’
He laughs, the sound echoing in that empty patio area, his breath fogging the air as he heads back to the bar.
I make my escape after dessert that evening, to get back to Joe at Mum and Dad’s. I left Sean in a circle dancing with the ‘technology lads’ – all of their shirts untucked, the movements ungainly and jumpy even though they were dancing to ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’. Sean hugged me deeply as I left. I hope I see you again before you go, I wanted to say. I hope you make it home safely and don’t shag Alicia again.
‘You’re early?’ a familiar face says as she opens the door. Grace. She’s been back from her epic travels for two days now, with the two sweetest little girls you could ever wish to meet – an expansion to our family that fills us all with joy. I enter the house and embrace her closely. It’s all I’ve done since I’ve seen her. That and beam like the frigging sun. My Gracie is back. I missed the feel of her, the sound of her voice. And so every time I’m near, I launch my body at her, demanding she be as close to me as possible. At the moment, she’s camped out at Mum and Dad’s doing something called cocooning which involves keeping her lovely girls close and introducing all of us Callaghans slowly but surely so as not to overwhelm them.
‘Did I wake you?’ I whisper.
‘I don’t keep time anymore. I really hope those are cheesy chips in your hand.’ She stands there in jersey pyjamas and a duvet worn around her shoulders like a cape. The look is worn and sleepy but I know it well: it’s the look of first-time motherhood. I open up the polystyrene container and see her eyes light up at the smell of melted cheese and deep-fried potato goodness.
As predicted, the portions at the Christmas party tonight were small and flooded with gravy and limp vegetables. Chips will save the day. She ushers me in to keep the winter air flooding through the front door, grabbing at my crispy chips and leading us through into the front room. I enter to see both of her daughters asleep on the sofa, limbs intertwined, the glare of cartoons filling the room.
‘Don’t mind us. It seems they only can sleep to the sounds ofSesame Street,’ she mumbles, turning down the volume on the television.
‘Is Joe OK?’
‘Asleep upstairs, snug as a bug.’
I sigh with relief and take a seat on an armchair, kicking off my ankle boots, watching as Grace nestles in with her daughters. I rest the chips on the arm of the sofa so she can help herself.
‘How was it?’ she asks.
‘Standard. And a bit weird. Me and Sean had a kiss.’
Grace’s eyes open widely. ‘Your mate, Sean? The one with the ears?’
