“Language, Payton.” Mum’s telling off was more because she had to rather than meant it. She used a lot worse. “But I agree with the sentiment.”
“Cockwomble. That’s always a good one if you’re pissed off with a man.” Victoria joined Payton in reaching for the cold sausages wrapped in bacon. They’d been cooked with maple syrup on them and were a mouth-orgasm, but I had a feeling the pregnant club would eat me if I tried to take one.
“You used to call me a cockwomble.” Max glared her. “I thought it was you being affectionate.”
She started laughing, shaking her head. “Seriously, Maven, you’ll get over it and men’ll stop looking like the devil. Promise.”
I sighed and managed to sneak a pigs-in-blanket. I’d heard my sisters when they started like this. I didn’t want to be listening to a men bashing session.
I stood up and stretched, surprised how I could actually move. “I think I’m going to go for a nap.”
No one paid much attention. Payton and Vic were huddled like Macbeth’s witches, discussing Maven’s ex, so I swiped another two pigs-in-blankets on the way out.
Then ran for my life.
22
A new masonry drill set – from Maxwell to Grant
Grant
I closedmy eyes and listened to the sounds of my wife sorting stuff out behind me. The TV in our suite was off, the glorious sound of silence almost a shock after the noise of Christmas day.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sit down soon?” I closed my eyes, understanding that no matter what I said, she would have to go through the ritual of putting everything away and being tidy before she’d consider relaxing. “We can live with an untidy bedroom for one night.”
There was a noise that sounded like a muffled swear word. I smiled, nothing much had changed in the thirty-two years we’d been together.
“We have a wedding to go to tomorrow and I won’t have time to get things as I want them.”
I turned around and shook my head. “If our children ever saw you like this, they’d realise that you really aren’t normal.”
She paused and eyeballed me. “Grant, they are well aware I’m anything but normal. Normal wouldn’t have left a perfectly outstanding career in the best city in the world to move in with a man I’d known for a New York minute and his four feral children.”
I chuckled. That was the reaction I’d been expecting. “You need to sit down. There's one more present for you to open.”
She didn’t sit down. In all the years I’d known her, Marie had never done anything that she was told if she didn’t want to.
“I need to put these shirts away in case Eliza ends up in here again in the morning and wants to make a den out of them.”
“You take your time then. But this present’s going to need a good hour to open.” I picked up my book, knowing full well I wouldn’t be reading it.
“If that’s a hint about unwrapping you, Grant, it isn’t a subtle one.”
I felt her fingers graze the back of my neck, and a shiver ran up my spine. My wife was older now, but she was still the only woman I wanted to look at, which was helpful. If she’d ever seen me look at another woman, it’s likely my balls would’ve been served on a skewer.
“Actually, that’s for later. This is a real present. Your main one.”
She paused, putting down the last shirt. Only my wife would’ve attempted half an hour of ironing on Christmas Day.
“Okay. You’ve got me. I’ll play.” She closed her eyes and held out her hands.
I rummaged behind me and found the envelope that was a little scrunched by now. It had been in the back pocket of my pants since just after dinner, waiting for the right time to start the rather elaborate surprise I’d come up with.
Quite simply, Marie was the centre of my life. She’d saved me and my four motherless children without a thought for herself, brought three more up and ran our world. She was our world. We’d been close to losing her recently, and I understood that without her, my life would not be worth living. I could carry on for the sake of our family, but I'd feel half alive.
I dropped the envelope into her hands and she opened her eyes.
“Oh.”
