That was it then, it was book talk all the way home. Not just about what she was planning to read, but what Payton was reading and Claire, and about my book – a thriller – and what Georgia was reading.
I lapped it up. Every word of it.
I phoned Max just after eleven, Rose fast asleep in bed, having nodded off while reading, which wasn’t unusual. I put the bookmark where I figured she was up to and tucked her in lightly, turning off her light and leaving the door slightly ajar so if she woke, the night light outside her room wouldn’t make it seem as dark.
I knew Max was up because our group message was pinging away, the one with all the partners and cousins in. There was some banter about a famous singer being on the Welsh island where the Holland brothers lived and one of them embarrassinghimself in front of her, with video evidence, so everyone was in uproar.
Max answered straightaway.
“Is Rose okay?” Were his first words.
“She’s really good actually. I spent the evening with her at Mum and Dad’s.”
“Oh yeah. Were they okay? I know they’re fine – they were here this afternoon. Dad was pretending to coach Maddox. I think it was the other way round actually.”
I decided to leave that one there.
“Dad’s really proud of you, you know.” I thought he did need to know that. Max and our dad were crap at communicating with each other.
“Where’s that come from? Have you been taking drugs?”
“No. We were talking today about how you looked after Cal and Dad said a lot of really good stuff about you. I know you think he’s judging you a lot, and he is, but what he sees is all the stuff you’re doing well.”
There was silence at the other end. I wondered for a moment if he’d hung up.
“Thanks. I appreciate you telling me that.”
“You’re welcome. I think our dad’s a pretty good one too. I know he wasn’t at first, but he is now.” I let the words hang there, unsure whether Max would take them or not.
“He is. He is now. He’s a good grandfather too. Can’t fault him there.”
“I think you need to tell him that.”
More silence.
“I think you’re right.”
I left it there. It wasn’t often my biggest brother (not in height) told me I was right, so I was taking that one.
I slipped into bed next to my tipsy wife, who’d been experimenting how to make sangria with her sister. Georgia stirred, half clamouring onto me, half asleep.
“Have you checked the kids?”
Such romantic words.
“I have. All asleep. Evie had about twenty teddy bears in with her. I moved some out.”
“Thank you. Is Rosie okay?” She was still half asleep.
“She’s fine. Fell asleep reading, so nothing new there. Have you had some painkillers?” If I knew her, she’d brought them into the room and hadn’t taken them.
“No. I’ll have them now.” She sat up, her hair loose, the vest she’d worn to bed not concealing much.
I watched as she took a slug of water and the tablets, wondering how I’d managed to have her fall in love with me and stay that way.
“What’s your favourite thing about me?” I decided I needed a compliment. The day had been fairly short of them.
She started laughing, almost choking on the water.
