“The more I know, the easier it will be. I want to fit in.” She filed all the information away carefully. “Ask me something else.”
“What’s the name of our guinea pig?”
She looked at him. “You have a guinea pig?”
“No. I was testing you.” He was laughing. “No guinea pig.”
“Have I told you that you’re annoying? You need to take this more seriously.” She eyed the side of the road, thinking that the snow seemed to be deeper here.
“You’re taking it seriously enough for both of us.”
“Maybe.” She was determined to finish the conversation. “Your mother used to be a nurse. She’s an excellent cook. Your dad has recently retired, and he is very excited about that because although he loved his job, it was all-consuming. He’s the life and soul of any party and he will always be offering me a drink, but it’s fine to refuse. You’re sure? That won’t sound rude?”
He sighed. “Hayley—”
“I know you think I’m being ridiculous, but these things matter. I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“There is no wrong thing. My mother just wants happy people around her.”
“Happy people. Right. I can do that.” She mustn’t show that she was nervous or she’d make everyone else uncomfortable. “And your parents have been happily married for—forty years?”
“Don’t ask me how long it is. I don’t pay attention to anniversaries, and neither does Becky.” He shrugged. “Rosie might know. She’s the romantic among us.”
“But they’ve been together since they were twenty-one, so yes, a long time. What else do I need to know?”
“Nothing. You know more than I do. And it isn’t necessary.” He gave her a brief glance, understanding in his eyes. “You don’t need to study my family, Hayley.”
“I want to fit in.”
“Just be yourself. Christmas will be chaos. It always is. I doubt anyone will take much notice of you to be honest.”
She hoped he was right, because the idea of so many people, all of whom loved Jamie but didn’t know her, was daunting. Would they like her? She tried hard not to think that way but her brain was hardwired to ask those questions. It was her default position on every social situation.No one will want me.
Because there had been a time when no one had wanted her. Not her mother who had left her in a supermarket bag in a park an hour after she was born, and not the couple who’d thought they might adopt her but then changed their minds.
“Tell me more about your family Christmas. I want to know what happens. What you all do. Traditions, that kind of thing.”
“I’ve already told you everything there is to know. You can’t possibly want to hear it again.”
“I do.” This part was magical, so close to her childish dreams. She never tired of hearing about it. “There must be loads of things you haven’t shared. For example, when you were little, did you hang your stockings at the end of the bed?”
“No. Downstairs on the fireplace because my mother always wanted us to open presents together.”
Together.
She was used toalone.Togetherwasn’t a word that had played much of a part in her life. She’d been close to some of the staff in the residential home where she’d lived for much of her childhood, but at the end of the day they’d gone home to their own families.
She focused on him. “And what kind of things would be in your stocking?”
“What do you mean?”
“Gifts. What sort of gifts?”
“Oh. I don’t know.” He gave a shrug. “The usual kind of stuff.”
Usual for him.
She felt a twinge of envy that his childhood meant he took things like that for granted.
