Wish Upon a Christmas Cake (12 page)

BOOK: Wish Upon a Christmas Cake
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There were murmurs of
don’t worry about it
and
perfectly understandable
and
we’re all family here
.

‘Katie!’ Dad opened his arms and I stared at him, confused. ‘Come here!’ He pulled me into a bear hug and stroked my hair. ‘Let it out, angel, it’s okay to do that.’ As my face pressed against his chest, I realised that I’d been crying too because my cheeks were soaking wet. He held me there for a while as I released some of my pain, comforted by the fact that I was hidden from view.

‘I’ll get the Champagne,’ Mum said when I finally emerged. ‘I think we could all do with a glass.’

‘That would be lovely, Esther,’ Gina said, her own eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

‘What about eggnog?’ Sam asked.

I gawked at him. ‘Eggnog?’

‘Haven’t you ever tried it?’

I shook my head, pleased that he didn’t seem shocked by my display of emotion – or my father’s.

‘Come on then, I’ll show you how to make it.’

As everyone else took their seats in the drawing room and Dad popped open a bottle of bubbly, Sam led me into the kitchen and started rifling around in the cupboards and fridge. He placed eggs, sugar, brandy, milk, cream and nutmeg onto the large kitchen island, then he handed me a whisk and a bowl.

‘What am I supposed to do with these, Sam?’

‘I’ll show you now, Miss Impatient.’ He grinned and I felt that all-too-familiar fluttering.

He separated the eggs, then began beating the yolks in a bowl.

‘So what is it that you do now, Sam?’

‘Add the other ingredients?’

‘I meant, for a living.’

‘Same type of thing that I’ve always done, Katie, but I’m self-employed now and tend to do contract work.’
Shit.
I couldn’t recall exactly what it was other than it had something to do with IT. When we’d been together, he’d worked for a local firm in the IT section, inputting data and updating systems, but so many jobs were IT-centred now that it was hard to keep track of what was what. ‘I work mainly from home.’

‘Oh. Well that’s the thing with theInternet, isn’t it? You can do it all from home. Well…not everything, but…’

‘I’ve branched out into web design too,’ he said. ‘I can do most of that from home but I do need to venture out sometimes to meet up with clients and attend conferences and business lunches.’

I gathered up the empty eggshells and popped them into a food recycling bin on the windowsill. ‘Do you enjoy it?’

He nodded. ‘Most of the time. It means that I get to use my skillset and to be there for the children. How many fathers can say that they do the school run, attend sports days and Christmas concerts
and
make dinner every evening?’ He smiled again but behind the smile I could sense something else.

‘You’re lucky. A lot of fathers miss out on things like that. I know that Dad wasn’t always there for dinner. Or sports days or…’ In fact, when I really thought about it, he hadn’t been there very often at all. It was always Esther on the side-line cheering us on. Esther in the kitchen overseeing homework and fixing dinner. Esther reprimanding me for coming home, slightly inebriated, after curfew. Esther trying to insist that I stay home because I was grounded, then sighing as I stormed out of the door screaming
I hate you!
I shivered. Had I been that awful as a teen?

‘I’m very lucky, Katie. I earn a good wage and live in the town where we grew up. I still see people I went to school with and my parents are on hand whenever I need them. Of course, they like to go abroad a few times a year but they’re entitled to do that. And sometimes…’ He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

‘Sometimes?’ I opened the milk and sniffed it. A habit I had inherited from Esther. She had always said that you should check that the milk was fresh and that your nose was the best judge of that. I had a feeling that Sam was about to open up and I didn’t want to put him off by seeming too keen to listen.

‘Sometimes, I’m actually glad to have some time without Mum and Dad around.’

‘Oh?’

‘That makes me sound like a total bastard, right? They’ve been so supportive since Maria died but I’m thirty-six now and I rarely get a day to myself. I feel more like a sixteen year old being constantly watched just in case I get something wrong. They even phone me twice a day.’

I thought about Sam’s parents. It had been a long time since I’d seen them. What I did recall of them was a pleasant couple who seemed interested in what their son did with his time but I didn’t recall him ever saying that they were overprotective or overbearing. Not when we were younger. Not even when things had taken an unexpected turn for us.

‘They weren’t always so protective,’ Sam said, as if reading my thoughts. ‘When you and I were together, they were quite relaxed.’

‘They were always good to me.’

‘They missed you after we split. My mother said it was like losing a part of her own family. I mean, we’d been together such a long time.’

‘Six years.’ I met his eyes but looked quickly away. How had we been together for so long then apart for all these years with no contact? Was it all my fault?

‘It was hard letting go of you. I struggled for a while there.’

‘But then you moved on.’ I didn’t need to say that, did I?

He stared hard at me and I felt my cheeks glow. ‘You made it quite clear that you didn’t need me.’ Something crossed his face then and I wondered if it was pain? What was I doing? This man had lost his wife a year ago and here I was dragging up the past. I should be helping him to relax, to enjoy Christmas, not making him remember why we broke up nearly a decade ago.

‘Did your parents like Maria a lot?’ I smiled to show that I wasn’t expecting a negative reply.

‘Yes. They were just happy to see me trying to move on with my life. They’d have warmed to anyone, I think. So when Maria and I married, they were happy to let us get on with things. We’d meet up a few times a week, you know the usual stuff, pop in for coffee or Sunday lunch, or to drop off the kids or pick them up, but after she died…they changed. I think they were worried that I’d lose it all over again and that Jack and Holly wouldn’t be properly cared for.’ He lifted the whisk out of the eggs and held it above the bowl, testing the consistency. ‘That’s about right.’

What did he mean by
all over again
? Had he fallen apart after our loss and break-up?

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t have let that happen, Sam. Anyone can see how much you love your children.’

‘I do,’ he said and held my gaze. ‘I’ll admit that the first few months after Maria died were hard…I was numb, in some kind of limbo…but you adapt to a new routine and you keep going. Every day you manage is a small victory. Maybe if it had just been me, I
would
have lost it, but I had two young children relying on me, so I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other.’

‘I admire what you’ve done. I couldn’t have coped as well as you have.’ And I didn’t think I could have. Being left alone with two young children and an aching heart would be enough to destroy anyone.

He put the whisk down and wiped his hands on a tea towel. ‘I’m not saying it was easy. I have two daily reminders of Maria. I’m trying to rebuild my life. Sometimes though, I don’t know if I’m doing a very good job.’ He gave a small laugh then and shrugged. I wanted to reach out to him and take his hand but something held me back. ‘There’s so much responsibility on my shoulders, Katie. I have two children to live for but I also feel like I have to support her parents and my parents. I can’t spend my whole life grieving, but the guilt of feeling that I should do is overwhelming and sometimes I feel like the people around me want me to. My parents…Maria’s parents…it’s like they can’t see
me
any more. Like it would be unthinkable for me to actually get on with my life, even though they repeat the same old platitudes day after day about moving on and seizing the day. It’s just so confusing. One day I’ll get up and see that the sun is out and feel positive, like it’s going to be a good day then the next, I’ll struggle to get up at all.’ He rubbed a large hand over his eyes and sighed.

‘You do know that what you’re feeling is natural, Sam. All this is perfectly acceptable. Grief isn’t an easy path.’ There I go with the platitudes.

‘Maybe, Katie. Maybe. But, you know, I haven’t seen you in years yet it feels like you’ve been there all along. Just…’ He shook his head. ‘This is ridiculous… Perhaps I’m being irrational…but the way you look at me is different. When I came out to your car yesterday, I was as nervous as an
X-Factor
contestant. I didn’t know how you’d react to seeing me here. But all I saw in your eyes was—’

I took a step towards him. Right now his face was like an open book. I could read his pain there, his grief, his love of his children. But I could also see that he wanted desperately to live again. And I knew that feeling. I hadn’t been through what he had but I knew what it was like to suffer loss. Sam had endured so much and come out fighting. He was brave and strong and sweet and lovely and I wanted him. Right now. Even though I knew I shouldn’t. Even though I believed that we could never go back. At least that’s what I’d told myself a million times after we’d split up.

‘What did you see, Sam?’

‘You looked at me as if I was a man, Katie. In that way that you used to do. As a man, not as a widower to be pitied. You know, after Maria died, all I wanted to do was to hear your voice. Yet that thought made me feel so guilty, as if I betraying her memory or something.’

He reached for me and I stepped into his embrace. He pulled me to him, pressing me against his chest. It was strange yet familiar. He smelt so good. My heart thundered and I struggled to breathe. Partly because my left nostril was squashed against his wall of muscle but partly because I longed to tear his clothes from him and to make it all right for him again. To make it all right for me again. To help him to move on. To kiss every inch of him and to love him from sunset to dawn if he would let me.

‘I thought you two were making eggnog but it looks like something far more interesting is going on out here.’ I jumped backwards as if Sam had scalded me with his touch.

‘Dammit, Karl. You have to be so sneaky?’

‘Now, now, Kitty-Kat. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve been convinced since you two first got together that you were perfect for each other. You both realised it before and although things got difficult, I think it’s heart-breaking that you didn’t stay together and work through it all.’

I stared at Karl, open-mouthed, but Sam had gone back to his recipe and he was now beating sugar into the egg yolks. He didn’t look happy at all. Disappointment and confusion surged through me and I hugged myself.

Did Sam regret telling me everything just now? It was a lot to get off his chest, however broad and strong a chest it was. I had the feeling that he’d been yearning to tell someone all of that for quite some time. Karl was right about us being perfect for each other once, but so much had happened since then. Sam needed time to grieve and to adjust to losing his wife. I had my business, my goals and ambitions. Even if it was nice to hug Sam and to feel that luxurious security I’d always found in his arms, it wasn’t about us. Not any more. He had responsibilities now. Two children. I didn’t even want children. I couldn’t tie myself down when I had so much to do.

There was a link between us. There would always be a history between us. I would always care for Sam and, it seemed, be attracted to him. But there was no future for us. I’d realised that a long time ago. He was evidently fighting his own demons and just needed me to be a friend. His sense of responsibility – to the children, his parents and Maria’s parents – was weighing heavily on him.

I just had to remember that whenever my wayward heart started to open towards him.

Chapter 8

I raised the glass to my lips and sniffed.

‘Go on, Katie, try it. You might like it.’ Sam grinned and gestured at me to take a sip of the eggnog he’d just made. It didn’t smell too bad but I couldn’t believe that it had eggs in it. I mean, a drink with eggs in?

‘You use eggs in your cakes. Go on, don’t be a baby. I dare you.’

Dammit! Why’d he have to dare me? He knew I couldn’t resist that. I took a big swig and… ‘Yum!’ Warmth and cream filled my mouth and trickled down into my belly.

‘See. I knew you’d like it,’ Sam said as he swigged from his own glass. When he lowered his drink, he had a white moustache. For a moment, I considered telling him, but changed my mind. It would be more fun not to.

‘Yes, that’s good, Sam,’ Karl said as he glugged back his eggnog, then used the glass ladle to refill his cup. ‘Katie?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s time.’

‘Time for what?’ Sam asked.

‘Time for the Christmas Eve movie, of course,’ Karl announced.

‘Do you remember, Sam?’

‘Yes of course, Katie. Esther makes you all a carpet picnic and you snuggle up to watch
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
. I can even remember the first year that I experienced the Warham Christmas Eve tradition.’

I stared into my drink. I remembered that year too. I’d been seventeen and Sam and Karl had come home from university for the holidays. Sam’s parents had gone away but he hadn’t wanted to go with them, so he’d stayed with us for a few days. I’d been thrilled to have him there. He’d gone away to university in London as a slightly geeky teenager but returned a young man. Not the man he currently was, of course, but taller and more confident. It had established my crush and I’d mooned around after him for the duration of his stay. I’d agonised about whether he could be interested in me and my daydreams had centred around him taking my virginity in a New Year’s Eve embrace. I’d replayed that fantasy until it had become a wonderful reality not long afterwards.

‘You were sweet seventeen then, weren’t you, Katie?’

‘And she had the BIGGEST crush on you, Sam!’ Karl grinned.

‘I did not!’ I blurted, suddenly seventeen again.

‘Yeah you did, Katie. Why deny it?’ Karl teased.

I shrugged and finished my drink but, as I glanced up, I found Sam’s eyes on me and what I saw there made me feel all warm inside. He’d later told me that the crush had been mutual and we’d laughed about that one wasted Christmas when we could already have been making love and enjoying being together.

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