Chapter seventeen
Life swallowed me whole for the next couple of weeks. The pre-Christmas rush meant the shopping centre was full every day, from opening till closing, and we could barely keep up with the demand for sweets and coffees. Rick was a massive help during that time – he was organised and efficient, dealing with the customers with a smile on his face even at the end of a busy day.
Chris suggested we hire him permanently, and I was seriously considering it. He was a student, so he probably wouldn't be able to do full time, but even a few hours a day would be a huge help. I needed to train someone if I was going to open the new bakery in Greenwich and let Chris manage it.
For the past few days I barely thought about anything else. True to his word, Darren had sent me all the info I needed to consider every angle. I’d discussed it with Jay after reading the contract and drafting a business plan, and he thought I should go for it. In all honesty, so did I. I had a gut feeling that this was the right step for me and my business.
I didn’t want to rush into it, though. I emailed Darren back telling him I’d give him my final decision in January, after the holidays. I had too much on my plate right now to make such an important decision.
Such as, the Christmas fundraiser Jay and I had organised for the centre. A week before Christmas we put up a banner outside of the bakery announcing we were collecting money for the John Sherwood centre. We were selling Christmas cookies and accepting donations, spreading the word. According to Freddie, the centre’s website was gaining more and more traffic every day, and according to Shane, small but frequent amounts were going into the centre’s account.
It was good news, but we still had a lot of work to do. The centre still needed a solid, regular income if it was to keep running as it was.
Three days before Christmas, there was an open house scheduled at the centre. Shane wasn’t too happy about it, but Jay managed to convince him that if people actually saw the place and all the work that went into it, as well as some of the people treated there, bigger donations would follow.
On the day of the event, Jay, Chris, and I went to the centre in the afternoon after closing the bakery a couple of hours early. Cookie’s catered the event, providing sweets and drinks, but Shane took care of everything else. He was charming and attentive, answering questions and networking like a pro.
We all stayed after everyone had left, eating the remaining treats and opening a bottle of whiskey for a toast.
Everything was going to be alright.
******
That night, Jay and I lay in bed, tipsy from the whiskey, and pleasantly mellow after making love. He was supposed to leave to spend Christmas with his family tomorrow, and even though it was only for a few days, I already felt a painful twinge in my chest thinking about it.
Propping himself up on one elbow, Jay gazed down at me, his eyes dark in the dim light. I knew he had something on his mind, ever since we came back from London, but I didn't push him to tell me before. Now, however, the anxious look in his eyes bothered me and I needed to know.
“What’s up, babe?” I asked, softly, bringing his palm to my lips.
He glanced away, licking his lips before replying.
“Come home with me for Christmas,” he said softly, making the air rush out of my lungs as if he’d punched me.
I was afraid he’d ask that. Expected it, even. And yet, I still wasn’t prepared.
“I talked to my parents last week and they said they’d love to meet you. So if you’re thinking of refusing because you think they don’t know you’re coming or they don’t want you there...” Jay paused, biting his lip, studying me in a way that made me self-conscious. I knew he could see right through me. “You don’t want to come, do you?” He said quietly.
“No.” A single word was all I could get out past the lump in my throat. I knew I’d hurt him by refusing to meet his family, but I just wasn’t ready.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready. So where did that leave us?
“Why not?”
I threw my arm over my eyes in exasperation.
“I don’t want to meet your parents, Jay,” I admitted.
Jay pushed at my arm until it fell away, cupping my jaw and making me meet his eyes.
“You don’t want to meet my parents yet? Or ever?” Jay was a lot of things, but a good actor wasn’t one of them. I could see he tried to keep his expression neutrally blank, but sadness clouded his eyes, turning the corners of his mouth downwards.
“I don’t know.”
I couldn't lie to him. I was being a fucking coward, but I couldn't lie to him.
Jay nodded without saying anything. He lay back down, his head on my chest, and we didn’t move or speak until sleep claimed us both.
******
The next day I woke up alone. Confused, I sat up in my bed, looking around for Jay. I expected to hear the shower running or see him curled in the armchair next to the window as he sometimes did when he couldn't sleep. But the house was quiet and Jay was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck!”
I kicked the covers off and reached for my crutches when a piece of paper on Jay’s pillow caught my eye.
Amir,
Nobody should spend Christmas alone. Not when there are people who love them and want to be with them.
If you change your mind, I’ll be on the 17.56 train to Bristol tomorrow.
Yours,
Jay
I closed my eyes, Jay’s face appearing behind them. I knew I wasn’t going to be on that train. As much as the thought of hurting Jay pained me, I couldn't do it. Not yet.
I was sure of the ‘yet’ now.
The thought of losing Jay made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. And I would lose him if I didn’t get my shit together and give him what he needed.
What we both needed.
An image of Jay in Mum’s kitchen floated in front of my eyes, making me smile. She’d love him, of that I had no doubt. My biggest worry was that Jay’s parents wouldn’t like me, but I guess there was nothing I could do about that. I’d allowed Cedric’s words to take root in my mind, making me even more nervous than I should be. Jay was a great guy, surely his parents must be good people to raise a child like that. And if they weren’t, if Jay was the exception not the rule, then... I didn't know what then. All I knew was that Jay was worth it.
I’d walk through fire for him.
I just needed a bit more time. I needed to tell him how I felt about him first before we got our families involved.
Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I tapped the screen and clicked the messaging app.
I’m not coming, Jay. I’m sorry. But I need to talk to you when you get back.
I sent the text, realising a second too late how it may sound. I didn’t want Jay to worry all the way through Christmas that I wanted to break up with him or something.
It’s not ‘ever’. It’s ‘yet’.
I sent the text, hoping he’d understand what I meant.
******
On Christmas Eve I closed the bakery a little after lunch. I’d given Chris and Rick the week off and planned to open after the holidays. We all needed a break, especially after the last couple of weeks.
Jay’d texted me yesterday to say he’d arrived home safely, but we hadn’t talked since then. He probably needed some time to ponder if he could put up with me any longer. I understood that and was willing to give him the space he needed.
I missed him.
It had been a while since I’d been home during the day, not having anything to do. I wasn’t going to cook Christmas dinner for one, or put up any decorations. My house felt silent and empty, and for a brief moment I regretted not going with Jay.
Flo was at the centre – it would be open all through the holidays. Most of the staff wouldn't be there, but a lot of the vets didn't have any families, so the centre was the only place they could spend Christmas with friends. Shane was adamant about keeping the centre open during any holidays, and he made all the effort. Every Christmas there was a giant tree in the lounge area, with small presents underneath for everyone. There was also Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Every year people volunteered to cook and we always ended up with more food than we could eat.
Thinking about the centre and all my friends made my house seem even emptier. I’d planned to spend a relaxing evening at home, watching TV or something, but I’d just end up thinking about Jay and overanalysing everything. I couldn't stand the quiet anymore. I wanted to go get my dog and see everyone.
I texted Shane to let him know I’d be there soon.
******
The cab driver wished me Merry Christmas before he sped off. I walked the few steps to the door, grateful it wasn’t too cold, even if it was the end of December. Struggling with the door handle, I managed to open it and prepared for the onslaught of Flo’s affection. However, there was no sign of her.
The scent of cinnamon and coffee made me perk up and head in the direction of the tiny kitchen. I was dying for a hot cup of coffee right now.
The place was strangely quiet. The decorations Jay and I had hung a couple of weeks ago for the open house event did nothing to brighten my mood. I remembered watching him as he climbed the ladder, his jumper riding up as he extended his arms to secure a garland on a hook on the ceiling. I remembered the way he’d smiled at me from the top of the ladder, his hair falling in his face and his cheeks reddening when he clearly read my lustful expression.
The kitchen did smell of fresh coffee but there was nobody inside. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured myself some coffee from the still warm pot.
Where the hell was Shane? He had been here when I dropped Flo off this morning, along with Jon, Meredith, and a couple of the guys.
An unpleasant sensation settled at the pit of my stomach as I roamed the centre, looking for Shane and Flo. I spotted her first, running after a ball in the back garden. I walked outside, closing the French doors firmly behind me. It might not be too cold, but I still didn’t want to let the December chill inside.
Shane was sitting on a bench, bundled in a soft blanket. I could feel the aura of misery radiating from him before I even reached him.
“Since when do you smoke?” I asked, sitting down beside him. His hand shook as he brought the cigarette to his lips. Shane didn’t turn to face me, only shrugged in response. “Where’s everyone?”
“Home.” His voice was gruff and emotionless. It scared me.
“Even Martin?” I knew Martin didn’t have any family, and he always spent the holidays at the centre.
“Yeah. He said his cousin invited him to spend the holidays with them in Norwich. Left at lunch time to get the train.”
“I didn’t know Martin had a cousin. He’s never mentioned it.”
Shane shrugged again and the apathy in the gesture shocked me.
“What’s going on, Shane?” I said gently, placing my hand on his arm. “Talk to me.”
He turned to face me then. His eyes were red rimmed and his skin was pale despite the chilly air.
Somehow I knew what Shane was going to say before he opened his mouth.
“He’s not coming home for Christmas, is he?”
Shane shook his head, looking away.
“He’s been deployed again. This morning.”
Fucking bastards.
“Where?”
“It’s classified.” Flo came to us, wagging her tail and dropping the dirty ball in Shane’s lap. His hand shook again as he reached and threw it for her.
“For how long?” I asked, balling my hands into fists.
“It’s fucking classified, Amir!” Shane snapped, and in a weird way I was glad he was getting angry. At least he wasn’t apathetic anymore. “They’re sending him to do their dirty work and nobody cares if he’s fit for it or not as long as bombs get dropped and people get killed.”
“That’s not fair,” I whispered, and we both knew I didn’t mean Greg’s deployment.
Shane buried his face in his hands. “Fuck,” he mumbled, sliding his fingers in his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Shane hadn’t seen war first hand, but he’d treated many people who had. He knew better than to judge. Nobody who’d ever been to war liked it, but it was our job. As fucked up as it was, we got trained and paid by the government to kill.
“How much did he tell you?” I knew about Greg’s nightmares and the effect they had on him. I knew that being sent back to war would not be an option, had he admitted to the extent of his PTSD, and been properly evaluated.
But that would mean being benched, and Greg could never hold a desk job.
“I’d like to think he told me everything.” Flo came running back, eager to play with the ball some more, and this time dropped it at my feet. I threw it for her and she ran after it. “But I’m not sure. What he told me was bad enough, Amir. He shouldn’t be flying that plane in an active war zone.”
“It’s his choice, Shane. You can’t protect him against his will...”
“I fucking know that!” Shane shouted, cutting me off. “Stop fucking patronising me. I know I’m in love with an insane adrenaline junkie who’d rather die than not fly his plane. I know I can’t fix him, and yes, it’s killing me, but I’ll never stop trying. At least he accepts that and is not running in the other direction the moment he realised how much I love him.”
Ouch. That hurt me more than I was willing to admit.
Shane stood up, dropping the blanket on the ground and stormed inside, slamming the door.
Flo trotted towards me, dropping the ball at my feet and inclining her head as if confused about what was going on. I played with her for a while letting both Shane and I cool off before I went back inside to look for him. Flo followed me to the kitchen where she drank from her water bowl eagerly. I gave her a treat from the packet on the counter before she headed back to the lounge area, where I was sure she’d curl up in her bed and take a nap.
I knocked on Shane’s office door, fairly certain that was where he was hiding, and walked inside once I heard the faint “come in”.
Shane was standing by the window overlooking the garden, leaning his hip on the window sill, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn't turn to look at me, but I saw the muscles on his jaw jump as I stepped closer.
“I miss him, too,” I said, placing a hand on Shane’s shoulder.
Shane was hurting. He didn't need me to argue about what he’d said and how unfair it was. He didn't need me to tell him everything was going to be alright because we both knew that probably wasn't true.
He needed a friend.
Shane turned and hugged me without meeting my eyes. He probably didn't want me to see the tears welled up in them.
We stayed like that for a while, until I felt Shane’s body start to relax. He pulled away then, wiping at his eyes hastily, leaning back against the window sill.
“Where’s Jay?” He asked, his voice groggy. The guy needed a break, but I knew he wouldn't take one unless Greg was here. I knew the feeling of trying to relax and take your mind off things, but instead all you could do was focus on everything you were trying to escape from in the first place.
“Home with his family,” I said, moving to sit on the small sofa next to the window. “How pathetic are we? Alone on Christmas, missing the people we love and yet unable to tell them. Sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves, and angry at the world at the same time.”
I dropped my head back on the sofa and closed my eyes.
“The people we love?” Shane said as he sat down next to me.
My heart pounded at his words. Had I let that slip? I could always pretend I’d meant him and Greg, but we’d both know I’d be lying.
“Yeah,” I said with a resigned sigh.
I didn't want to talk about it, though. Seemed Shane didn’t feel like talking either – leaning back in the sofa, he twined his fingers behind his head and looked pretty content to just sit there in silence.
Until Flo barked and we heard the front door open a few seconds later.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
Shane and I both groaned at the sound of Peter’s voice. Seemed like we weren’t going to have a lonely Christmas Eve after all.
******
“Thank you for doing this,” I said quietly, sharing a cigarette with Peter outside.
It was dark and cold but I needed to get away from the crowd inside for a while. Peter turned up with his and his sister’s family. The amount of food they brought with them was ridiculous. And so was the noise.
There was only so much noise I could take. The children alone could wake up the dead, and the adults didn’t seem any better after a few glasses of wine. As if by magic, in the space of a few moments, the centre was filled with people, laughter, and food aromas. Flo was spoiled rotten by everyone, and I even saw Shane smile a few times.
“No problem,” Peter said, pulling from the cigarette, the cherry blooming to life in the dark night. “He’s coming to Christmas dinner tomorrow at my house.”
“Voluntarily?”
Peter laughed, the sound deep and melodic in the quiet garden. “You’re welcome, too,” he added, turning his head to look at me, assessing me. “Why are you alone on Christmas Eve?”
“I’m not.”
Peter levelled a look at me that could cut through bullshit, even in the darkness.
“Jay went home to spend the holidays with his family, and I knew Shane was here at the centre, so I came here. Misery loves company, right?”
Peter shook his head, pulled from the cigarette again and remained silent. I was glad. I didn't really feel like rehashing the whole sob story of why I didn’t go with Jay.
My phone vibrated in my pocket just then and I took it out to see a text message from Jay. When I slid my finger along the screen to open it, my lips spread into a ridiculously wide grin. Jay’d sent me a photo of him and a fawn Labrador, both of them wearing Santa hats. Jay was making a silly face at the camera and the Labrador had its head cocked to the side, tongue hanging out, thoroughly enjoying the selfie session.
I could see an old fashioned fire place in the background, Christmas socks hanging from the mantelpiece. The picture was so perfect it made my eyes sting.
I replied without thinking.
I miss you.
Miss you, too.
Jay’s reply was instant, making my heart beat faster. I felt an actual, physical ache in my chest when I thought about him. I needed to touch him so bad. Instinctively, I stroked the photo on the screen with my thumb, wishing Jay was here with me right now and my Labrador was the one he was making silly faces and taking selfies with.
“Was that Jay?” Peter asked next to me, making me aware of the world around me again. My hand trembled as I reached for another cigarette when he offered me the pack.
“Yeah.”
“Did he ask you to go with him back home?”
I didn’t need to nod because Peter already knew the answer to that question, but I did anyway.
“I’m not going to lecture you on not letting a good thing go or tell you to fight for what you want before it’s too late, or some other inspirational bullshit, Cookie.” Peter coughed from the smoke, cursing buckets as he did. Neither of us was a regular smoker, so a couple of cigarettes at a time did us both in. I was nearly ready to vomit from nicotine overload. “But I’ll tell you this,” Peter continued when he stopped coughing. “I know why you didn’t go. And I know why you don’t say it back when he tells you he loves you. I’ve been there. Hell, some days I’m still there. When I came back from war looking like this,” he made a wide gesture towards his whole body, then swallowed hard. It took him a few second before he could continue. “I asked Jane for a divorce when I left the hospital. Do you know what she did?”
I shook my head. Even though Peter was a close friend, he’d never been the sharing type. I was pretty certain even his therapist had a hard time extracting information from him.
“She slapped me.”
I turned sharply to look at him, trying to judge if he was joking or not. I found him grinning at me.
“True story. She slapped me so hard my head snapped to the side. Then she told me never, ever, even think about leaving our family. You know Jane, she’s not the emotional kind, but she broke down then. That was one of the few times I’d seen her cry. She told me she loved me, no matter how I looked. To her I was still the same. And I knew she meant it. I see the way she looks at me every day. She’s not in this relationship out of pity or obligation or whatever other bullshit I thought. She’s with me because she loves me, as simple as that.” Peter pulled from his cigarette, exhaling a thick puff of smoke, before putting it out in the ashtray. “I don’t question it.”
“I don’t blame you, mate. Your wife is scary as shit when she gets mad.”
Peter laughed, clapping me on the back, making me cough. I put my own cigarette out even though it was only half gone.
“Shall we go in before they come looking for us?” I suggested.
“I’m afraid we have to,” Peter said with an exaggerated groan. “I love my family and all but they should be taken in small doses.”
I laughed, knowing Peter was joking. The man adored his wife and his kids, and he clearly loved his sister and her family, too. They all bickered and annoyed each other all through dinner tonight, but it was all good natured. Peter’s family was his rock and the reason why he was alive today – of that I was completely certain.