I’d wake up around midday, allergic to sunlight, and hang out on the sofa wrapped up in a duvet until it was time for friends to come over with takeaway. And that would be Christmas over and done with.
This year, however, Jonah had an entire schedule, all written out on a scrap of paper. We’d been up early to prepare. I peeled carrots and potatoes while he worked on the turkey. The radio was on all the while, all the old Christmas songs blasting out. He’d even let me steal one of his Christmas jumpers, the pattern of which was a mix of trees and reindeers. His was covered in sheep wearing little Santa hats, the tagline reading: ‘FleeceNavidad’.
Over vegetable peels, we’d stolen glances and kisses and been distracted by a mid-morning karaoke to ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, Jonah using a wooden spoon as a microphone.
It was the most fun I’d had on Christmas since I was a kid.
“Right, so that’s the turkey crown in, and the potatoes are boiling,” he said, throwing a towel over his shoulder. I was sitting at the breakfast bar, a glass of white in hand, admiring as he bent down to the oven, placing the food inside.
“I can’t believe you were going to eat an entire Christmas dinner yourself,” I said, looking around the busy kitchen, various bowls and foods all stacked up around the counters.
“I like cooking,” he said, leaning over the opposite side, his hand finding his own glass. “I invited Archie, his family, and some of my other friends over for Thanksgiving.”
“And they didn’t return the invite for today?”
“They tried.” He took a sip of his drink. “I didn’t want to feel like I was imposing on family time.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t be.”
Jonah shrugged, a slight look coming over his face. “I think I was worried…I don’t know.”
“Worried about what?” I asked, cautious I didn’t dig too deep.
“Sometimes I feel lonelier, hanging out with another family. Like, even though I’m in the room, I’m still on the outside looking in.”
His gaze caught on mine, and I saw it again: sadness. Seemingly a rarity from the time I’d spent with him, but there all the same, like a discarded box shoved to the back of the wardrobe, only dug out every so often.
“I didn’t want that today,” he admitted.
I thought of my friends back in London, the ones I usually saw for Christmas. Over the years, I’d lost a few to boyfriends and babies, to long family holidays in the Cotswolds or the South of France. They’d all fled the busy London scene for family, and they’d forgotten to take me with them.
Jonah’s phone buzzed on the counter. His eyes glanced over it briefly, scanning the caller ID.
“That’s my sister,” he said, picking it up. “I won’t be long. Can you keep an eye on the potatoes?”
“Sure.” I smiled, watching as Jonah disappeared down the stairs, a loud “Merry Christmas” echoing back up from the hallway.
Instead, my attention turned to my own phone. It still only had a single bar. I tried to think of all the people I could call. Friends, coworkers, old flatmates, my manager. Mum and Dad, although I didn’t know if they were in the country, let alone if they’d answer.
It had been a long time since I’d spoken to them.
Instead, I found myself scrolling down to M on my contacts, an old number I hadn’t called in a long time.
Matteo.
Even his name caused that old wound in my heart to bleed. How deep it still ran even after all these years, and how it would never heal. Not really. As I pressed the call button, I realized this could be my only true Christmas tradition.
Holding my breath, the dial tone rang, each note ringing through my entire body.
“Kit,” he answered, and just from his tone I knew the answer to the question I hadn’t had the chance to ask. Yet, I bit my tongue and swallowed my pride.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I croaked out, barely able to even stay still as I jumped from the stool, pacing up and down the living room.
“Why are you calling?”
My eyes pressed closed, heart in my throat. “I was hoping…I wanted to talk to her.” I winced. “Even just to wish her a Merry Christmas.”
“That’s not a good idea. She’s all excitable; it will be hard to get her to settle down.” I could make out the background noise, busy and chaotic, a child screaming in the background.
