Friday December 20th

 

“Ugh, what the heck is wrong with these games companies?” Cate grumbled as she waited in line at Target to buy the new video game that Lola wanted so desperately for Christmas. “Why would they think it’s a good idea to only bring it out five days before Christmas?”

“That’s why you should always be pregnant at this time of year,” Liv chuckled on the other end of the line. She’d found out a couple of weeks ago that she was pregnant with her second child. “Even though I’m only half a minute pregnant and could easily do it myself, I’ve guilt-tripped Jax so many times about pushing his big, ole baby out of my hoo-ha again that he’s done all our Christmas shopping this year.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Cate sighed as the queue in front of her moved at a glacial pace. “Is it still OK for me to stop by when I’ve finished up here so I can borrow a dress for Miles Hardy’s cocktail party tonight?”

“Sure, you might have to let yourself in though. I’ll be too busy reclining on my chaise longue being fed bonbons by gorgeous, muscly hunks in togas.”

With the number one item on Lola’s Christmas list procured, Cate hustled out of Target and had just got in her car when her cell-phone rang. It was Kian.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“So…” he started, drawing the word out slowly as if he already knew what his wife’s reaction was going to be to whatever he was about to tell her. “I’m not going to be able to make it home before Hardy’s party tonight. Can I meet you here at the office instead?”

Cate took advantage of the fact that he couldn’t see her and rolled her eyes. Why the heck was she not surprised?

“Fine.” It had recently become her favourite four-letter word because on the surface, it sounded like she was perfectly OK with what Kian had just suggested but it could also be laced with enough hidden sarcasm to totally satisfy her passive-aggressive self.

Kian couldn’t possibly take time out of his busy work schedule to go with her to meet their friend, Thom who was only in Seattle for twenty-four hours but of course she was expected to just drop everything and go with him to his business associate’s Christmas party.

After she’d hung up with Kian, she drove across town to Liv’s house.

“That is not a happy face,” her sister chuckled as Cate got out of the car.

“I just really wish that I didn’t have to go this party tonight. I’ve got so much to do before everybody starts arriving in the next couple of days.” Unlike Liv and Jax, this year and every other year since they’d got married, Cate had done all of their family’s Christmas preparations. Kian’s job paid the bills so she definitely didn’t expect him to do it all while she lazed around doing nothing but it would have been nice to have had an extra pair of elbows to fight through the crowds at the mall with.

“You see,” Liv said, leading them upstairs to the master bedroom, “I’d have sympathy for you about having Mum, Jean and Bernard staying with you if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m being blessed with the presence of our delightful older sister and her family for the duration of the holidays. If Rems and I are both still in one piece when it’s time for them to go back to Italy, I’ll be shocked.”

Cate was the youngest of four children. Liv, Jax and their daughter, Sofia and Ben, his wife, Erin and their son, Oliver all lived in Seattle while their older sister, Remy, lived in Rome with her husband, Vincenzo and their two grown-up sons, Rocco and Luca.

This would be the first Christmas since their mum, Irene had finalised the sale of the family home back in Manchester. She’d wanted to sell it for several years but had been forced to wait for the housing market to pick up again after the recession.

Since only Irene still lived in England, it had made more sense for them to invite the rest of the family to come to Seattle for the holidays instead of them all going back to England and staying in a hotel.

Remy, Vincenzo, Rocco and Luca were staying with Liv and Jax over the holidays while Irene, Kian’s mum, Jean and her boyfriend, Bernard were staying with Cate and Kian.

“We haven’t all been in the same country for a while, maybe she’s mellowed in her old age,” Cate suggested.

“Yeah, right,” Liv snorted.

She flung open her wardrobe doors and began rifling through the racks of clothing, “so what were you thinking for the party tonight?”

Cate sat down on the end of the bed, “I’m not fussy. If you can stop me looking like a frazzled mum, I’ll be more than happy.” She’d been tempted to ask her new style guru, Sierra for advice again but then decided that Liv, who’d been to countless music industry events as Jax’s wife was probably a safer bet and she had a huge closet of grown-up clothes to pilfer from. If Cate was asked who’d designed her dress tonight, she didn’t think they’d be too impressed if she replied that it had come from her six-year-old’s dress-up box.

“Did the invite mention anything about a dress code?”

“Mm, it’s got to be red.”

“Well, that narrows it down a little,” Liv rifled through the racks some more. “What about this?” She pulled out a dark-red, strapless dress.

“That’s gorgeous,” Cate reached out to touch the silk flower at the waist.

When she tried it on, the dress was almost perfect - the floaty hem swirled around her bare knees - except for the chest area. There was almost enough space between the dress and her boobs that she wouldn’t need to take a clutch bag; she could stash her keys, purse, lipstick, change of clothes and kitchen sink right there in the front.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work,” Cate frowned as she stepped out of the bathroom.

“That sucks. It fits you great everywhere else,” Liv tapped her fingernail on her chin. “Hang on a sec.”

When she came back, she was carrying a pair of wobbly flesh-coloured boob-enhancers.

“Ugh, I really thought when I got married that I’d never have to see a pair of those ever again.” Unfortunately, she’d always had small breasts.

“Don’t make me break out the violins for you, skinny bitch. Do you want me to help you put them in?”

Cate raised her eyebrows, “do I want you to stuff your hands down my bra? Um, that would be a very definite heck to the no.”

“Geez, you’re so tetchy today.”

When Cate came back out of the bathroom again with the artificial boob enhancers aka ABEs stuffed in her strapless bra, the dress fitted so much better.

Since Kian was meeting her at the office and Nate was at home looking after the children, she agreed to let Liv do her hair and make-up. “Yay,” Liv clapped her hands together. “I love doing makeovers.”

“How do I look?” Cate asked when Liv had finished. Her long, inky-black hair was styled in a fishtail side braid and her lips were painted a gorgeous dark-red to match her dress.

“Like the furthest thing possible from a frazzled mum. You look gorge, sis.”

Cate smiled and gave her sister a big hug, “thanks for everything. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

As she pulled into the underground car park beneath Kian’s office building, he was waiting for her at the side of his black SUV, which she always referred to as the Tank. Her tummy was awash with butterflies and she wondered if it was because she’d seen so little of him recently.

He reached out a hand to help her climb out of the car. “You look…” Before he could finish what he’d been about to say, his cell-phone rang. He looked at her apologetically. “I should really take this.”

Cate leaned back against the side of the Tank and decided to call home while she waited for Kian to finish his phone call.

“Hey, baby girl,” she beamed when Lola answered the phone.

“Mum,” Lola had picked up her dad’s habit of dragging her words out until they were almost a complete sentence all on their own. “I’m not a baby, I’m nearly fourteen.”

“You’ll always be my baby even when you’re a hundred and fourteen. Are Mats and Sierra there? It’ll be late when we get back from the party tonight and your dad and I wanted to say goodnight to you all.”

“Dad already called us from his office,” Lola said, “but I’ll get them.”

“Mommy, did you dress yourself tonight?” Sierra asked when she came on the phone.

Cate laughed, “no, sweetheart but thanks for the vote of confidence. Auntie Liv chose my dress and she did my hair and make-up too.”

“Angel?” She’d just hung up after wishing them all goodnight when she looked up to find Kian stood just in front of her. She thought maybe he’d finished his call but he had his hand over the speaker. “Can you drive while I finish talking to Bram? If I don’t get this sorted out, I won’t be able to relax and enjoy the party.”

“Fine.” Cate reached out her hand and took the car keys from him. Idly she wondered just how much sarcasm she could get away with before Kian realised that she wasn’t exactly the happiest of bunnies about his work-life imbalance.

Thanks to Kian’s long and successful career as a professional footballer, they had always been comfortable but she was still surprised when they stopped in the circular driveway at the front, by the scale and grandeur of Miles Hardy’s estate. It was very tastefully decorated with white lights lining the edges of the gravel driveway and illuminating the perfectly-manicured trees and bushes in the garden. Lush garlands again with white lights were entwined through the railings of the balcony above the front door – it reminded Cate of when the Royal Family stepped out on to the balcony at Buckingham Palace back home in England.

Even though she’d been driving, Kian jumped out of the Tank and rushed around the front so that he, rather than the smartly-dressed valet could open Cate’s door for her. “Wow,” she marvelled. If this was only the outside of Miles’ estate, she wondered with more than a little trepidation what awaited them inside.

Her heels tapped against the tiles as they stepped under another beautifully lit pine garland and into the entryway.

“Kian,” Miles exclaimed as they were shown inside. He was dressed formally in a suit and bow-tie but he looked like he was playing dress-up. His dark-brown hair already had ridges in it from running his fingers through it. She could see why he had a reputation as a playboy; he had an energy about him which was equal measures intoxicating and exhausting.

“I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Kian shook his hand. “Ben sends his apologies. Unfortunately, his son was taken ill this afternoon.”

“Of course,” Miles insisted.

The doorbell rang again. “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Miles smirked as he left them to greet his next set of guests. “Find me later,” he said to Kian, “I’ve got some people I’d like to introduce you to.”

Juanita, Miles’ housekeeper offered to take their coats.

As Cate let her wool coat slip off her bare shoulders, Kian took a sharp intake of breath when he saw what she was wearing underneath. “Hey,” she nudged him with an elbow. “My eyes are up here, mister.” He’d been entranced by her ABEs. They hadn’t been this big since she’d finished breastfeeding their youngest daughter, Sierra. Although maybe she should wear fake boobs more often if that’s what it took to finally get her husband’s attention.

“I’m sorry,” Kian’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. “It’s just… wow!”

“Don’t get used to them; they’ll go back to being pathetically small again once the clock strikes midnight.”

Kian pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear, “you know I love your boobs just how they are, angel. Besides, if they were this big all the time, I wouldn’t be able to hold you as closely.”

She softened as he pulled her up against his body, her ABEs smushed up against his hard chest. He might have been MIA recently but when he was there, he wasn’t just her husband, her lover or the father of her children; he was also her best friend and biggest supporter. As much as she might hate big, fancy parties like this, she knew that with Kian by her side, she’d be OK.

“I love you,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek.

“I love you too.”

Unfortunately, the party was just as boring as she’d feared it would be. It was really just an excuse so the men could network. Like Kian and Ben, Miles also owned a venture capital firm but Cate did her duty, smiling and making polite conversation with the other wives.

A waitress came around with a tray of spiced rhubarb gimlets and Cate tried really hard not to wrinkle her nose. The one and only time she’d ever tried rhubarb (in a crumble), she’d projectile vomited across the canteen at her primary school. She opted for a sparkling cranberry kombucha mocktail instead.

“What do you do, my dear?” Marisol, one of the older wives asked when Kian had disappeared to take yet another work call.

It was the question she always dreaded at these types of gatherings. “I’ve got three young children.” When she looked around, Marisol and the other wives were all waiting for her to continue. Although they were wives of successful businessmen, they all had their own careers and it was clear that they didn’t understand that somebody could just be a mum.

Marisol owned a successful catering company and had just inked a deal to publish her first cookbook.

“I, um, also run a charity raising awareness of prenatal depression.”

“I see,” Amber, one of the other wives nodded. She and her surgeon husband owned a chain of plastic surgery clinics along the west coast. “I think I remember reading something about that several years ago. That must have been very embarrassing for your husband.”

Of course, Amber would think it was embarrassing; she couldn’t deal with saggy boobs and crow’s feet never mind something as brutal as depression.

“I don’t know what it was like in your soccer world,” Marisol wrinkled her nose up as if having an ex-professional athlete for a husband was the very worst thing that she could think of, “but wives of successful businessmen don’t make a habit of airing their dirty laundry in public. Mental illness or not.”

Cate resisted the urge to high-five Marisol and Amber in the face with a chair only because she knew that would embarrass Kian far more than airing any “dirty laundry” about her *whisper* mental illness.

She took a sip of her mocktail and blinked really fast to hold back the tears which pricked at the corners of her eyes. She’d borrowed one of Liv’s dresses tonight because she’d wanted to fit in but she might as well have worn one of Sierra’s glittery princess dresses instead. The ABEs she was wearing just reminded them that she’d once been a WAG and that coupled with her lack of professional achievements meant that she must be a stupid bimbo.

As she subtly drifted away from Marisol and her cronies, she thought about how horrified they’d be if she told them that this party tonight reminded her of countless others she’d attended when she was a WAG. The wives of these businessmen thought that they were far superior to the wives and girlfriends of professional athletes but in reality, the level of bitchiness was about the same. The only difference was the criteria with which they judged their fellow wives. Ironically, Cate had stood out from most of the other WAGS because she’d wanted to be more than just Kian’s wife. She’d been judged negatively because she’d chosen to spend her time studying for a Psychology degree rather than at the spa or chasing after the newest designer handbag.

She quickly shook her head. Her five emotional minutes were definitely up and it was time to be a gangsta again, well as gangsta as she could be in ABEs, high heels and sipping a sparkling cranberry kombucha mocktail.

She was here for Kian, that’s all. Why should she care what Marisol, Amber and the other wives thought of her – she wasn’t here to make friends, she had plenty of those already. Besides, it was Christmas and like she’d said to Lola many years before, there was definitely no crying at Christmas.

She wandered around the edges of the room, sipping her mocktail and looking at the various pieces of art on display. Her attention was drawn to a square bronze sculpture – there was a circle cut out of the centre and a nude woman was dangling in the middle, her hands were held by the man sitting atop the bronze square with his head resting on his knees.

“That’s one of my favourites,” Miles said quietly. “It’s a Lorenzo Quinn.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I have to admit I became a little obsessed with this sculptor’s work after I saw an installation of his in Venice when I was there on business. He created these large hands that rose up out of the water and looked as if they were supporting the pink-fronted building. I’m sure there’s much more to it than that but it appealed to my childish nature.”

Cate smiled her first real smile of the evening. “I’ll have to look that one up online.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” Miles returned her smile. She was grateful that even though he was a renowned playboy, his eyes never strayed south from hers.

“Is everything OK?” Kian asked, joining them. The muscle in his jaw ticked and it made her chuckle that he might be a little jealous of the attention Miles was bestowing upon her.

“Your lovely wife and I were just talking about figurative sculpture,” Miles smirked as if he too could sense that Kian wasn’t exactly happy to have found the two of them alone in a quiet corner of the party.

After Miles had moved away, Kian placed a hand on Cate’s hip, his fingers brushing over the delicate petals of the silk flower. “What was really going on, angel?”

“It was just as Miles said,” she reassured him, placing her hand atop his. “We were talking about this sculpture and Miles was telling me a little of the history behind it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kian sighed. “I just don’t want the other guests to think… It wouldn’t be the first time that Miles has made a play for another man’s wife.”

“Let me get this straight,” she said quietly. “You stormed over here like a Neanderthal and interrupted the first interesting conversation I’ve had all evening not because you actually wanted to spend time with me but because you were worried that the other guests would think that I was embarking on an affair with Miles?”

“Cate.”

“Leave me alone, Kian. You should remember how to do it since you’ve had more than enough practice recently. I can’t even look at you right now.”

“There you are, Cate,” Marisol trilled. “I do apologise. I’m sure all of the conversations about our exciting business ventures must have gone a little over your head. Why don’t you come back and join us and I promise we’ll find something more appropriate to talk about.”

Cate was just about to respond when Kian interjected. “Actually, we were just leaving. I’ve had a call from the nanny and our son, Mateo isn’t feeling well.”

Cate didn’t understand. Mats had been fine when she’d dropped him off at school this morning. Why had Nate called Kian instead of her? She opened up her clutch bag and removed her cell-phone. She didn’t have any missed calls.

After a rushed goodbye to Miles, Kian guided Cate to the front entrance where the valet was already waiting with the Tank.

“What are you doing?” Kian asked as Cate flicked through her contacts to find Nate’s number.

“I’m calling Nate to find out how our son is,” she said through gritted teeth.

Kian put his hand over hers, “Mats is fine.”

“What? Why did you tell Marisol that he was poorly?”

“Come on, angel. Did you really want to go back over there with her for a more “appropriate” conversation?”

“No but…”

“She was patronising you and I didn’t like it,” Kian grunted.

“Oh my goodness,” Cate laughed, “do you really think that was the first time the other wives at one of these parties have ever patronised me?”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“The only way you’re going to keep that from happening is if you stop insisting that I attend these parties with you.”

“I wanted you there with me tonight.”

Cate rolled her eyes again, “did you? I barely saw you all evening.”

“I know you’re pissed off that I had to take a call in the middle of the party but…”

“Ugh, I don’t know why we’re even having this argument. I’m not annoyed with you for taking a phone call, Kian; you disappeared on me long before that.”

Kian sighed, “you know what these things are like, I had to shake some hands. Besides, it would have looked weird if I’d shown up without my wife.”

“Next time maybe you should just take a mannequin from the mall instead. You wouldn’t have to worry about her getting upset about being patronised by Marisol and her cronies or goodness forbid, talking about art with the host. She could just stand there with her appropriate-sized boobs and look pretty all night until you’ve finished shaking hands and then you could take her home.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, angel.”

“It’s fine,” Cate broke out her favourite four-letter word. They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“Ugh, I’m so looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight,” Kian broke the silence. He rolled his shoulders. “It feels like I haven’t been home in days.”

That’s because you haven’t. Cate chewed on her bottom lip to keep the snark from spilling out.

“Talk to me, angel,” Kian squeezed her hand. “I’d rather have you yell at me some more than this never-ending silence between us.”

“I’m fine,” Cate shucked off his hand.

Kian fiddled with the radio until he found a station playing eighties pop.

The first song was “I’m Your Man” by Wham! Kian drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and sang along. Cate felt her insides melt a little. He had a lovely, gravelly voice but he didn’t sing very often. It was almost impossible not to join in. They were respectable parents of three children but it felt so darn good to just goof off a little bit, sing at the tops of their voices and make up their own silly dance moves.

After the song had finished, Cate rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I overreacted when I saw you talking to Miles,” Kian kissed the top of her head.

“We really were talking about figurative sculpture, you know.”

“I know. You’re more than a mannequin to me, you’re my first half.”

When they got home, Cate checked on their three sleeping children and then walked into the master bedroom where Kian was getting changed. He was away so much that sometimes it was a surprise to walk into their bedroom and find him actually there. He looked up from unbuttoning his shirt and smiled, the crooked smile that he reserved only for her and she smiled back at him, snagging her bottom lip with her teeth.

She removed her jewellery and before she could even ask, he was stood behind her, ready to unzip the back of her dress. When it slipped down to her waist, he gently kissed the nape of her neck and then stepped back so she could continue undressing.

The strangeness between them had burned away like early morning fog in the summertime and left behind a warm, comforting familiarity.

“I told you they’d go back to being small and humble again,” Cate chuckled as she placed the ABEs on top of their dresser and pulled on the old, navy-blue t-shirt of Kian’s she’d been wearing to sleep in for the last few nights.

Kian raised an eyebrow when he saw her choice of sleepwear. “Are you pregnant again, angel?”

Cate finished tying the drawstring of her sleep shorts. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“You haven’t worn that t-shirt to sleep in since you were pregnant with Sierra?”

She walked into the bathroom and out of habit, squeezed toothpaste onto both of their brushes. “Do I need to remind you that you’ve had a vasectomy?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve beaten the odds,” Kian shrugged. They’d conceived their two youngest children while Cate was on birth control.

Cate rinsed her toothbrush before putting it back in the glass. “I’m not pregnant unless it was an immaculate conception. We haven’t been intimate like that for weeks.”

She turned to walk away but he tugged on her hand. “Things will settle down soon.”

“I know,” she nodded. He kept telling her that but the trouble was that she didn’t believe him. The company he’d started with Ben was getting bigger and more successful every day.

Kian followed her into the bedroom and pulled back the duvet so Cate could climb into bed first. She turned on her side, facing the large windows which looked out over Puget Sound. The bed dipped as Kian climbed in behind her. The rough hair on his legs brushed against her calves.

She may doubt some of the career decisions she’d made in the past but she never doubted her love for Kian and their children. She just wished he would spend more time at home.