A Special Time Of Year
A family is brought together in this engaging short story by Eirin Thompson.
HI, Mum,” Rachel said into the phone. “Are you busy?” “Not too busy to talk to you,” I replied. I was always delighted to hear from my daughter.
We chatted about things at work, and I wanted to know what Ava, my granddaughter, was up to.
“I was thinking of buying her a toy vacuum cleaner for Christmas,” I told her. “She’s fascinated with the real thing.”
“Sounds perfect,” Rachel replied. “Lewis and I are looking forward to Christmas with her this year.
“It’s the first time she’s understood about Santa, so it’s going to be fun.”
“Then I’m doubly glad it’s my turn to host.” I smiled.
Rachel and Lewis took it in turns to come to me or to go to Lewis’s parents for Christmas Day.
I adored when they came to me, and tried to hide my disappointment on the other Christmases, which I spent with my sister, Chris, and her family.
They always gave me a great welcome, but it wasn’t the same.
“Lewis’s mum and dad would be welcome to join us,” I told her.
“If I put the leaf in the table, there’d be room for everyone.”
“About that, Mum . . .” Rachel began hesitantly. “What’s up?”
“Lewis and I thought it was time to start having Christmas Eve and Christmas Day here.”
“I see,” I replied. “Of course you were bound to want to do that once Ava got older.”
“Then you don’t mind?” “Of course not.”
“And you’ll help us cook the turkey?” Rachel asked eagerly.
“You mean you want me to come to yours?” I asked, my heart filling with joy.
“Absolutely! On Christmas Eve, and you could stay over. We really need you to keep us right in the kitchen.
“The other grandparents can come in time for lunch and we can all spend the day together with Ava.
“So you’ll come, Mum?” Rachel asked.
“Just try to stop me!”
No matter what happened, the festive season should always be spent with your family . . .
****
“Are you sure the turkey’s cooked?” Rachel asked, sounding anxious.
“Trust me – I’ve been doing this for thirty years,” I reassured her.
The doorbell rang and Lewis’s parents, Pat and Frank, came inside.
“It’s so lovely to see you!” Rachel cried.
“Would you keep an eye on Ava while Lewis gives us a hand? We’re almost ready to eat.”
“Hello, Pat! Hello, Frank,” I greeted them. “Merry Christmas!”
“Mum, can you show me how to fold the napkins so they stand?” Rachel asked.
“And Lewis, I think it’s time to open the prosecco.”
I was making gravy with the meat juices, carols playing in the background, when the doorbell went for a second time.
Who could this be?
“I’ll go,” Rachel said.
“Hi, Dad,” I heard her say, and my stomach lurched.
Davy? What was he doing here? I supposed he’d called to deliver presents.
“Give me your coat and
I’ll get you a glass of bubbly. Lunch will be in ten minutes. I hope you’re hungry.”
Lunch? My ex-husband was staying for lunch?
Rachel’s words came back to me: “The other grandparents can come in time for lunch and then we can all spend the day together with Ava.”
I’d assumed she meant Pat and Frank. It never occurred to me that she was including her father.
I stirred the gravy like a madwoman as I tried to get my head round the idea of seeing Davy again.
Would he be pleasant or hostile? Would he have put on weight? What would he think of my grey hair?
“Everything is just about ready to serve,” Rachel said when she returned to the kitchen.
“Why don’t you say hello to Dad, Mum.”
There was nothing else to do. I was going to have to walk into that room, face Davy and get on with it.
“Granny!” Ava cried when I ventured into the room.
“Granny. That’s a new one, but I suppose you are,” Davy said with a chuckle, and I saw from the off that this meeting was not going to be easy.
“That would make you Grandad, I presume,” I said in a withering tone.
If he was going to cast me in the old lady role, the least I could do was reciprocate.
“Actually, I’m Grandad,” Frank chipped in. “You’ve always been Pops, haven’t you, Davy?”
I grunted. Trust Davy to sidestep any moniker that made him seem old.
“You’ve finally given in and let your hair go grey, I see,” Davy observed.
“And I see you’re still bald,” I shot back.
“Ouch! I was only going to say it looked classy,” Davy commented. “But perhaps I won’t bother.”
There was an embarrassed silence and Pat and Frank looked at their feet.
“Granny.” Ava tried again, and I felt ashamed that I’d allowed myself to become distracted.
“Yes, my pet?” I replied. “Look – Santa bring.”
She lifted the naked baby doll by its blonde hair and plonked it in my lap.
“Hello, baby,” I greeted it. “What’s her name, Ava?” “Ava.”
“I know your name, but what d’you call your baby?”
“Ava,” my granddaughter insisted.
“OK. Shall we put her clothes on?” I suggested.
Ava dipped into her new doll’s cradle and pulled out a yellow dress.
With “help” from Ava, I wiggled the doll into the dress and handed her back.
Ava seemed pleased, but sat down on the floor at my feet and concentrated hard as she peeled the dress off the doll.
Then she handed the doll and dress back to me. “Again.”
“What’s the word, Ava?” Pat prompted.
“Please.”
This continued for a few minutes: me dressing the doll, Ava stripping her and handing her back to me. Then Rachel came in. “Dinner’s ready. Mum, can you sit round the back of the table, then Dad next.
“Frank, you’re on the end with Pat, and I’ll put Ava beside you. That will leave Lewis and me free to fetch and carry.”
I shuddered at the thought of sitting next to Davy – I’d have preferred to be as far away from him as possible.
But today wasn’t about me. It was about Ava’s first real Christmas and her mum and dad making it special.
Ava ate a hearty Christmas dinner.
“You have a great eater there,” I remarked.
“Takes after her granny,” Davy murmured.
“I can’t remember you ever failing to clear your plate, Lisa.”
“I appreciate it when a meal is set down to me,” I replied. “It’s picky types like you who cause problems.”
“Now, now, you two,” Rachel said. “No bickering unless you want to end up on the naughty step.”
Ava looked up at that, and her mouth quivered.
Before she could cry, Rachel whipped her plate away and replaced it with a small bowl of trifle.
The switch distracted
Ava, but I’d learned something – if Davy and I behaved like silly children, Ava would suffer.
I wasn’t having that.
Pat said that, since the rest of us had cooked, she and Frank would deal with the washing-up.
“Enjoy Ava for a while,” Pat said to me.
Rachel and Lewis stayed in the kitchen, which left just me and Davy with Ava.
“She’s great, isn’t she?” Davy commented as Ava rammed a bottle into her doll’s mouth.
“Remember Rachel at that age?”
“She’d have run a mile if Santa had brought her a doll,” I answered.
“She wanted a fire engine one year, and a police officer’s dressing-up costume another.”
“She’s turned out well,” Davy commented.
“Solid marriage, great mother and a home that’ll be nice when they finish it.”
“That’s going to take a while,” I responded. “They refuse to spend money they don’t have.
“We did the same, if you remember.”
“How could I forget?” Davy replied. “Sleeping on a mattress on the floor and cooking on a camping stove. They were happy times, Lisa.”
“Yet they weren’t enough for you, Davy.”
“Let’s not get into that.” “No,” I agreed.
Ava decided she wanted a story, so she sat on my knee as we read a book.
Rachel appeared with a tray of coffee.
“Time for family presents,” she announced, and everyone sat down.
Most of the gifts under the tree were for Ava – the largest a ride-on fire engine, over which Davy and I exchanged a knowing look.
Lewis had bought Rachel a beautiful pair of earrings and she had bought him a new watch.
Ava loved her vacuum cleaner and the Lego table Pat and Frank had got her.
Rachel had bought me a stylish linen shirt, and I’d given her and Lewis a spa hotel voucher, and wine and posh biscuits for Pat and Frank.
It looked like all the gifts had been distributed, except for one large parcel that was left at the back.
“Who’s this for?” Rachel asked, looking for a label.
“That’s from me to your mother,” Davy explained.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything,” I began, embarrassed. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“No show without Punch,” Davy replied. “Open it.”
I removed the paper and saw that it was a picture. But what a picture!
It was a portrait of a very pensive Ava, and Davy, who was a talented artist, had captured her blue eyes and shaggy curls perfectly.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured.
“I remembered how much you loved the one I did of Rachel at that age, so I thought I’d give it a go.”
I knew where I’d hang it back home – right next to the one of Rachel.
****
“Today went well,” Davy remarked as we waited in the hallway for his taxi. “It was nice to see you, Lisa.”
“It was nice to see you, too – in the end.”
“Let’s not wait until next Christmas to bump into each other. Maybe we could meet for a coffee?” he suggested.
“With a view to what?” “For a chat. A trip down memory lane or a talk about the future.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Davy shrugged.
“OK. That’s my cab. I meant it when I said your hair looked classy. You always were a classy lady, Lisa.”
I considered hugging him, decided against it, then changed my mind.
“It is Christmas,” I said as I put my arms around him.
“Let’s be friends,” Davy said.
I waved him off, then returned to the front room where my granddaughter and her naked doll were reversing into the tree on a fire engine, dragging the toy vacuum cleaner.
Christmas truly was a special time of year.
The End.