Frustration mingled with sympathy. “I can’t help if I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Jen.”
“I can listen.”
“That won’t change anything.”
“Try.”
He paused and then looked at her. “I feel old, that’s all.”
“Martin, you’re not old!”
“I’m retired, Jenny. Put out to pasture.” His voice was dry. “Of course I’m old. And the thing about not being busy is that you have plenty of time to think about it. I’m noticing aches and pains that I never would have paid attention to in my working day. I feel as if it’s all downhill from now.”
She felt a flash of alarm. She’d never heard him talk like this before. “It’s a new phase of life, that’s all. It will take some adjustment, just like the first day of school or your first day of medical school.”
“Not really like that. In both those examples I had a purpose. And the future was exciting. Now the future is—” He paused. “I don’t know.”
And now she saw the problem. His work had been so demanding, so all-consuming, that there had never been any question of how he was going to spend his day. He went where he was needed and did what needed to be done. He had no time to think. But now whole days stretched ahead and he had no idea how to fill his time.
The problem, she decided, was that he’d let many of his interests and passions slide because he’d been too busy to pursue them.
Maybe what was needed wasn’t sympathy, but some frank talking.
“Then we need to explore projects and hobbies that you’ll enjoy and find rewarding, but in the meantime your purpose is to stop me being overwhelmed by all the Christmas preparations. By the way, I spoke to Roy’s wife. Roy is coming here this afternoon.”
“Roy the roofer?” Martin looked alarmed. “Why? Is the roof leaking again?”
“No. He’s going to put Christmas lights on the outside of the house. That family think you’re a hero, by the way.”
He ignored that comment. “Why do we need lights on the house?”
“To make it look festive. I just hope he can get it done before Hayley and Jamie arrive.”
“I don’t understand why we need to decorate the outside when our nearest neighbours are across the field. Who exactly is going to see these lights?”
“Don’t be a grump. It will look lovely. Just like the movies.”
At least she hoped it would be just like the movies.
A message pinged on her phone and she instinctively reached for it, because that was what mothers did even when their children were adults, but then she moved her hand away.
“Check it,” Martin said gruffly. “It’s snowing. One of the kids might have a problem.”
She lifted her phone and scanned the message. “It’s Becky. On the family group chat. All flights are grounded so she is driving, but there has been a bad accident on the motorway and nothing is moving so they’re checking into a hotel tonight and they’ll join us tomorrow. That’s a shame. There goes my big family welcome-home dinner.”
“There will be plenty of people willing to eat Becky’s share. You said ‘they.’” Martin reached out and took the phone from her. “Who is ‘they’? Does Becky have a boyfriend? Is yet another of our offspring bringing a stranger to spend Christmas with us?”
“I wish she would.” Jenny retrieved her phone. “I worry about Becky.”
“You worry about all of them.”
“Becky the most.” She could see that Becky was typing so she waited to see what the next message said. “Oh, she’s with Will. They’re driving up together. That’s a relief. I’ll worry less about her if I know Will is with her. I’ll ring Audrey and let her know, although Will has probably already called her.”
She and Audrey had met at a mother-and-baby group when Jamie and Will were both six months old and the two families had been friends ever since.
“Why are Becky and Will together? That wasn’t planned, was it?”
