“There was a night when I came in here to see where you were. You were asleep in that small bed with Callum. He was curled up to you and you’d fallen asleep holding him. I took a photo of it because it was the time when I realised I couldn’t love anyone more. You were saving my son and me as well, and it was that moment when I understand why I’d had to meet you in that elevator.” I closed the door, my words quiet so as not to wake Eliza.
“You never told me about that night.”
“It was every night, Marie. It was every day. There’s one more envelope, but I didn’t want to risk waking the baby.” I handed her the second crumpled envelope I had in my pocket.
Marie took it, but I caught the wetness in her eyes.
“This is the last? Then I can have my gift?”
“I have another gift for you in the bedroom after…”
Her hand came out and slapped me, but it was playful. I could be getting lucky later.
“Let’s see what this says.” She paused, reading it. “You’re never going to let me forget that are you?”
I gave a quiet laugh. “It was unforgettable.”
“The place of you finest cooking creation.It was my first Christmas dinner. I had no idea what to do…”
“Let’s go down to the kitchen and see what’s there.”
What was there was Seph and Callum, somehow eating leftovers. I didn’t make a comment; the nights of finding my children devouring me out of house and home made this unremarkable.
“Your father’s had me do a scavenger hunt. And Callum, don’t eat any more of the panettone; I’m using it for a dessert in a couple of days.”
Callum nodded, his mouth full. He didn’t even try to speak.
“Do you remember your first Christmas here?” I knew what her answer was going to be.
“You’ll never let me forget. I was so desperate to make it the perfect Christmas for you all.” Her sharp eyes found the present on the side.
I’d debated leaving it in the oven, but given that it had been on for most of the day, I’d decided it was a stupid idea. “It was the perfect Christmas. We made memories and laughed and were together. No one cared about the food being burned.”
“Can I have my gift before I toast you like I did the turkey?”
I handed the present over to her. “I hope you like it.”
She unwrapped it carefully, pausing to look at the cover as soon as the paper was off.
“Grant… where did you get all these?”
It was a simple gift, a photo album put together over the course of many evenings from the pictures I’d collected between me and the kids. There were the photos from New York when we’d first met, the first day back at school pics of the kids in their uniforms, birthdays, Christmases, our wedding and honeymoon.
“Wow.” She took it to her favourite chair and sat down. “This is amazing.”
We spent the next hour going through the book, reminiscing and remembering about each of the memories the photos recalled.
Until she came to the last page.
“You didn’t.”
“Hmmm,” I tapped the picture. “It was that or a dick pic. And I thought the kids would prefer that.”
Marie shook her head. “All of those brownie points you just earned have gone straight down the drain, Grant Callaghan.”
I knew she was joking. “It was a seminal moment.”
“You took a photo of my burned Christmas dinner and put it in here.”
