Kate lounged on the sofa, wishing her mother a happy Christmas on the phone, and she might open them carelessly while multitasking, chatting with Bea and her mother, and miss the explicit note to open in private.
Olivia twitched, wanting to intervene, mid very messy nappy.
“What about this small one?” Bea said. “Shall I bring it to you?”
Noooooooooooooooo.
She almost clasped Zoe to her chest and ran into the sitting room, messy bum and all. But there was a limit. And she wasn’t about to squelch poo and baby to her favourite dress.
“I know, sweetheart,” Kate called out, relaxed. “I’ll get to them soon. At least I opened the ones from you and Ralph.”
Olivia audibly sighed.
Zoe looked at her again.
“Just a minor crisis,” she reassured her. “Regarding the matter I related to you in the Covered Market.”
And she smiled at Zoe. And Zoe smiled back. And Olivia smiled bigger. And Zoe giggled and gurgled.
Who knew babies could be instant stress relief. And thank god.
She wrapped up the nappy. Then slipped Zoe’s wriggling arms into a clean sleep suit and a small cardigan that said ‘little pudding’ on the front with a picture of the Christmas dessert – a gift from Ralph and Bea.
“I’m done,” Kate said beside her at the door. “I’ll get them in the car.”
Olivia nodded. And Kate smiled. And Kate saw Zoe and smiled more. Olivia’s sheer terrified panic at the ring under the tree hovered at bearable levels.
Ralph and Bea barrelled by in the hallway, rustling something in their arms. And Olivia slung the change bag over her shoulder and cuddled Zoe in her arms. She glanced into the sitting room, that ring pulling at her attention.
Except the small, square gift was gone.
She stepped inside the lounge and peered further under the tree. Other presents, the shape of books she’d bought Kate, lay there. But no ring-sized box. What the...
Had Kate opened it?
Oh god. Oh god.
Here we go. It’s what Olivia wanted. For her plan to go out into the world, with her blessing that the world would take care of the rest.
Except, oh my god. Oh my god.
“Mum!” Ralph bellowed from downstairs, “can all this paper go in the recycling?”
Paper?
Christmas paper from the kids’ presents? She pondered a moment. Ralph must have cleared around the tree. When Olivia left this room earlier it resembled a large hamster cage, as if frenzied animals had torn through the gifts.
What if they’d swept it up?
What if the small, neatly wrapped present had been gathered up in the haste?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh.
She turned on her heel and swooped down the stairs, Zoe in her arms.
Why on earth had she done this? This is what happened when you let go of plans and pretended you didn’t want to control everything. The universe went straight off plot.
They’d all gathered at the front door, Ralph holding a box of wrapping paper.
