Evergreen: The Callaghan Green Series Page 9

  “Because you were here.”

  “Oh.” I took the bag of cakes and Eli handed over a note, waving to keep the change. “How’s your sister?”

  We left the shop and went outside into the bitter air. The temperature had dropped further as the day had gone on, now a couple of degrees below freezing. It was nothing like the New York winters I’d gotten used to when I lived over there, but for England, this was cold.

  “Not good. She’s been admitted. That’s why I got here last night instead of today, because I don’t really need to be there now she’s being looked after properly.”

  “How long will she be in hospital for?”

  “Until she’s stable. They need to look at what meds work and put her in therapy. She won’t be left on her own as she’s a risk to herself at the moment.”

  His voice was tired and I felt horrendous for once again making a situation about me. I knew Izzy was struggling, had been for some time, but she’d been resistant to anyone helping her. Eli had all of that going on and work.

  “I’m sorry. I did want to be there for you…” We sat down on a bench near the village green, one with a plaque, dedicated to Eileen and Tommy Cheetham. It gave the dates of their wedding and the dates of their deaths; within a few weeks of each other.

  He put his arm around my shoulders. “I know you did. But she was worse if anyone other than me or Dad were there. She really wasn’t keen on other women being there – even our other sisters.”

  “I wonder why.”

  “Hopefully they’ll help her find out.” He hugged me closer. “I’m sorry I’ve not been around much these last few months. I don’t want to blame work and family shit, but I lost track of us.”

  I leaned against him, trying to stop the tears that had too easily filled in my eyes from falling. “I thought we were growing apart.”

  I felt a kiss press against the side of my head.

  “I’ve missed you. I don’t want to grow apart, Ava.”

  I curled closer into him, not feeling the cold. “I thought you were fed up of me.”

  “I hated not seeing you as often. You were busy with work and we were constantly missing each other. Let’s not let it happen again.” He paused and took a hard breath. “Unless you want it to. I don’t know, you might want something different than me.”

  His words were stilted, as if he didn’t want to say them but felt he had too. They were the feather touch that broke the dam that held back my tears.

  “Ava.” He said my name and pulled me in closer. “If you’re not happy you need to tell me. Talk. If… if you want to take a break or call it a day then, I understand. But I don’t want that and I’m rambling.”

  “I don’t want to take a break or have any time apart.” I managed to look up at him.

  He was pained, his forehead furrowed. I saw sadness in his eyes, those dark eyes that I’d fallen in love with when I’d been determined not to.

  “Do you want to split up? I don’t feel I make you happy but…”

  I guided his head down to mine and kissed him. A sweet kiss, trying to convey what I could while we were in public.

  “I don’t want to split up. The opposite. I’d like to set a date for our wedding. I was worried you were getting bored of me.” It was easy to say now he’d started the conversation. “I should’ve said something, but I felt like I was being immature, demanding your attention when you had so much going on.”

  “Ava, no one has a road map for a relationship. Even if someone’s had experience of one with someone else, no two people are the same. I wouldn’t have thought you were being demanding. You don’t demand enough from me as it is.” He wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Yes to getting married. I’ve done waiting.”

  It was all I could do to nod. I was filled with tears and hope and I just wanted to be alone – inside – with him where we could take our time and talk. Time.

  “Our apple pies are getting cold.”

  He laughed and reached for the bag that was on the bench next to me, pulling out the two pies and handing me one.

  “I told Max I was worried about us.”

  I almost choked on my pie. “Oh fuck. What did he say?”

  “He told me to talk to you and that if I didn’t we were pretty much fucked.” Eli gave a grin that looked more relaxed now. “I don’t think he knew what else to say.”

  “He was right. Let’s go back and talk. We’ve got about four months to catch up on.”

  There was a time when I wasn’t sure I could be what Eli needed. He was older than me, and I figured he would want to settle down, start a family, and I wasn’t ready for that. My business was thriving, I was loving making my name without being known as the Callaghans’ little sister and my affairs with men were casual and centred on just scratching an itch.

  Eli became the person I didn’t know I needed.

  He was there, quietly behind me, supporting, praising, fucking. Loving. When I lost my spark and independence after an assault, I pushed him away, not thinking he’d still want me if I was broken.

  That was what I told him now. I didn’t know if I could be needy, because that wasn’t the woman he told he loved that first time.

  The bed was big, a super king. Last night we’d slept at different ends of it, me pretending to be asleep, him trying not to disturb me. Now we took up only the middle, my head on his chest, leg draped over his. One of his hands played with my hair, the other rested on my waist.

  “Would you think I sounded needy if I told you that I want you to need my time and attention?” He was quiet when he spoke.

  We’d managed to sneak in unnoticed, no mean feat when it was Christmas Eve and pretty much everyone I’d ever been slightly related to seemed to be here.

  “No. That just makes me feel wanted.”

  “Because you are. Work has been shit and the stuff with my sister has been just as bad. I should’ve told you more what was going on, but I didn’t want you to worry when there wasn’t anything you could do.”

  “It’s not about fixing things. I could’ve listened and talked to you about it, or just understood. I felt you were shutting me out, but I didn’t want to demand anything of you because it shouldn’t have been about me, it was about her.” I leaned up, shifting so I was on my side and looking at him. “I wasn’t jealous, but I did feel left out.”

  As soon as the words were out they lifted the heavy clouds that had been muddying my head for so many weeks.

  “I didn’t want you to have to be interested. It’s not pleasant what she’s going through, and if I’m honest, Ava, I thought it might – it might put you off me.”

  “Why would it do that? You know how batshit crazy my family are. Yeah, fair enough, no one’s had issues to the same extent recently, but you know about Max’s mum and what happened. Mental health’s nothing to be ashamed of or try to shield someone from, it’s a fact of life.” I pressed my hand to his abs and then trailed a finger higher up. “Let’s not do a post-mortem on what we didn’t do and should’ve. Let’s just start now with what we know we need to do so neither of us feels like this again.”

  He trapped my hand above his heart. I felt it beating, slow, rhythmic, solid.

  “I love you, Ava Callaghan. Happy Christmas.”

  I giggled, couldn’t take my eyes off him, even now after the time we’d been together.

  “I love you, Elijah Ward.”

  It took him two seconds to flip me onto my back, looming over me, strong and with that look on his face that told me exactly what he wanted to do to me.

  Wetness started to gather between my legs, even though he hadn’t even touched me yet, my body anticipating, needing, what his eyes were promising.

  “Ava!” My name wasn’t said by Eli. “Mum wants everyone downstairs for dinner.” Seph’s voice had never been so unwelcome in my whole entire life.

  Eli froze above me.

  “We could make this quick.”

  He shook his head. “For this, I’d rather
take my time. We could ignore your brother.”

  “If we do that, Mum will be banging on the door in about five minutes.”

  “I need longer than five minutes for what I’ve got planned. Let’s wait.” He gave me another kiss, this one slower, deeper, full of promises.

  Promises I couldn’t wait for.

  12

  A rugby ball – From Maxwell to Teddy

  Marie

  There was nothing quite like having all of your family in the same house.

  Nearly all of my family anyway. The prodigal son was on his way home from Morocco with Wren, but aside from that everyone was here, under one roof and eating.

  Maybe a few drinks too, but that was mainly to survive the stream of bad jokes that my youngest son was coming out with.

  “Do you think we have enough food?” Grant stood next to me, his arm around my waist, studying the buffet that was spread over three trellis tables.

  We were cooking Christmas dinner tomorrow, so today, because I appreciated one, my sanity and two, the fact that none of my beloved children would even think about cooking given the fact that they turned back into children when they returned home, so we’d hired caterers.

  “I think we have enough to not have to cook for the next three days. This could be Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

  “You forgot to factor Seph into that.” His grip on my waist tightened. “He will eat everything there and if there is anything left, that will be his midnight feast. Remember that?”

  I did. There had been many occasions when we’d had a big dinner, maybe had friends around for a meal, and the leftovers had been placed in the fridge for the following day.

  The first few times we hadn’t had enough leftovers for more than a very light lunch, we just thought that we’d overestimated how much we’d had left. Then one night I’d woken up, needing a glass of water – and maybe a couple of painkillers – and found a fourteen-year-old Seph having a lovely feast at the table, napkins out and everything. I was half surprised he hadn’t lit a candle.

  He’d been ignored, mainly because he had his headphones in and had been too busy being interested in whatever he was eating to notice me. After that, we hadn’t questioned where the food had gone.

  “I remember. Poor Seph.”

  Grant turned and looked at me. I felt the laser of his eyes dig into my neck.

  “Poor Seph?”

  “He’s lonely, Grant. He craves being with family. He doesn’t do well on his own and now he’s the only one who doesn’t have someone.” I never really worried about Seph; he bounced back; he was resilient. He loved hard but he knew he was loved.

  Out of all of my children – and the four eldest were always part of that, even if I hadn’t laboured them – Seph was the most emotionally dependant but he was also the one child that I knew would fall in love with the most difficulty. He idealised the concept, saw only the perfection in his siblings’ relationships and never the challenges, and sought his true match.

  “Seph will be fine, I promise you. Can’t say the same about whichever poor girl falls for him.”

  I laughed, elbowed him. “Whoever she is, she’ll be able to manage him, otherwise he won’t fall. Anyway, our children are staring at us. We should find the mistletoe and embarrass them.”

  Grant didn’t wait for that; he changed his hold on me and dipped me down, planting a kiss that made Maxwell yell to get a room.

  I clutched his shoulders and felt the trickle of desire flicker through me. Thirty-plus years hadn’t completely erased the reasons I fell for this this man who had been grumpy, surly, argumentative and a complete mess.

  “See, no mistletoe.” He brought me back up again.

  “Yes, but is your back in one piece?”

  He laughed; a sound that used to be rare but was now commonplace. “It was worth any cracks in my spine just to see Max’s face.”

  “You were looking at Max’s face while you kissed me?” I was slightly horrified that he wasn’t having the same experience I was.

  Grant laughed. “I needed a distraction. Not everything in me’s retired.”

  He dipped me down again and gave me a second kiss, this one a little bit longer and a cheer went up, mainly from Killian and Owen. I only hoped that the kids still had this after thirty years.

  “I heard your spine click that time.” I hadn’t, but it was worth the look on his face to say it.

  He laughed and stood me up. “Let’s go talk to our children before we get any complaints.”

  It was Payton I found first, standing in a corner, looking at a canape as if it was a turd recently found in the Thames.

  “Are you going to eat that or just admire it?”

  She looked at me with eyes that were dark because her skin was unnaturally pale. I squinted and gave her an eyeball that was hairier than a yeti in a hard rock phase.

  “Something you need to tell me?”

  She bit her lips together. “Do you need to get something from the store?”

  I raised my brows. “I could get some wine. Although given that you’re not drinking, I’m not sure we’ll need much more.”

  Payton shook her head and gestured towards the door. “Let’s go. Before you make that comment any louder.”

  I didn’t follow immediately, needing to catch a breath before I went into a conversation that I knew was going to change lives, and not just mine. Payton was the first child I birthed, ten minutes before Seph arrived. She’d been a stubborn little girl who cared enough for ten countries. As a child she’d been ferocious. As a teenager she’d pushed boundaries. In her twenties she’d been determined. As a mother, she’d be fierce.

  I caught Grant’s eye as I left, a silent conversation that somewhere in the last three decades we’d perfected. Don’t follow, keep people away and have wine ready when I get back. I’m going in.

  He gave a tiny nod and turned back to Max, who was telling some story that had Victoria rolling her eyes. I left the warmth of the kitchen and stepped out into the snow, scurrying over to the store as quickly as I could.

  Payton was looking at the shelves in there and seeing nothing. A small smile played at her lips and her hands rested on her flat belly, a belly that wouldn’t be flat in months to come.

  “Congratulations.” I pulled her into my arms and tried not to cry, because right now she didn’t need a tearful, over-excited mother. She needed a rock. “Are you excited?”

  “Very.”

  We stepped back and I saw my girl, a look of awe on her face. The tiny combination of cells and whatever other scientific terms there were, was already the focus of her love.

  “What’s Owen said?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. Seph knows. He was in the room when I did the test, but I need to tell Owen.”

  “So why haven’t you? He’ll be over the moon.” Because that man adored Payton. It was blindingly obvious from the first moment I’d seen him look at her that he’d decided she was his.

  “I needed to get my feelings in order before. I just needed that time.”

  I nodded. “I get that. Took me two days to tell your father when I found out I was pregnant with you.”

  “Did you know how he’d feel?”

  I smiled, remembering those couple of days when I’d swung between thinking he’d be elated and then mad. “I knew he’d be happy. We’d talked about having more kids and he knew before I came over here with him that I wanted to be pregnant. I was very, very clear with him what marrying me meant, and it meant I’d carry children as well as taking on his four.”

  “Did he want us?” She looked worried and I realised that we’d never actually had this talk.

  I smiled. “Yes. When I told him, he looked absolutely terrified for about ten seconds and stuttered a lot. Then he gave up trying to speak and just held onto me.” Which had led into us re-enacting exactly how he’d gotten me pregnant in the first place, but Payton didn’t need that visual. “We were trying to get pregnant, so it shouldn’t have
been such a shock, but you know how well your father deals with anything like that.”

  “What about when he found out we were twins?”

  “He fainted. That was after staring at the screen for about two minutes while the doctor pointed out the two heads and two bottoms. You and Seph were like yin and yang. He was holding my hand and then all of sudden it grew very sweaty and clammy, then he clattered to the floor. Me and the doctor just looked at each other in disgust.” It was one of my favourite memories, although Grant recounted it completely differently. Mainly without the fainting.

  Payton laughed, still holding her hand to her stomach.

  “Baby girl, Owen is going to be so incredibly happy. You’ll be wonderful parents.”

  She shrugged. “I hope so. I didn’t realise how much I wanted this. My head’s swimming with how much we need to get organised and I feel like we’re so underprepared…”

  “Payts, you have plenty of time and plenty of people to help. And you know how seamless Owen is getting stuff together. You really don’t need to worry. Just enjoy it. Go get him on his own and tell him. It’ll be the best Christmas present.” I hugged her again.

  “What about Maxwell and Vic?” The sadness in her voice was loud.

  “They’ll be thrilled for you.”

  She shook her head. “I feel like I’ll be rubbing salt in the wound.”

  “I really don’t think you need to be worried about it. And don’t pussy-foot around them, being over-sensitive. That’ll make them feel worse.”

  “Okay. I’m going to tell Owen in the morning.”

  “You do that. Now head back with those two bottles and I’m going to take the bacon over for breakfast tomorrow. Watch how you’re walking over there.” Because it was getting slippery as the night air froze the snow.

  I remembered the evening when I’d told Grant I was pregnant for the first time. We were in the kitchen, the kids all in bed by eight-thirty which was a miracle in itself. Grant was pouring himself a whisky after what had been a successful day at work, a case settling without the fuss he’d anticipated.