I take the glass and clink it against Merry’s. Emotions clog in my throat, making it difficult to speak. It’s as if I’m getting a second chance with Finn. I wasn’t around much when he was growing up, but I’m going to make sure I’m there for his child. I’ll be at every soccer game or dance recital or whatever the kid’s into.
“This calls for the good stuff. I have your favourite in here.” I open the liquor cabinet in the dining room and grab the rum, still dazed.
Rubbing the swell in my chest, I take a seat before I fall down. My shaky hand pours the rum into our eggnog, then I bring the glass to my lips, and gulp down a mouthful.
Merry tucks the boots back into the stocking and sits down next to me. “I’m a little jealous that you get to live here near them and I’m all the way back in England.” She spoons the casserole onto her plate. The aroma filling the room makes this place feel more like a home instead of an empty shell where I sleep.
“You can always move in here permanently.” My gaze locks with hers. I shouldn’t have said that. She can probably hear the desperation in my voice.
Merry giggles. “You want a free housemaid, don’t you?”
I take another gulp of the spiked eggnog. “Nah, I wouldn’t give up Blanche. She does all my laundry.”
“Oh, speaking of laundry. I did that for you.”
I choke as part of my drink goes down the wrong way. Holding the napkin over my mouth, I cough it up and splutter, “You did my laundry?”
Merry chews on her food with furrowed brows. “It’s no big deal, but when I emptied your trouser pockets, I found a doobie.”
A chuckle rumbles out of me. “You smoked it, didn’t you? It makes sense now why you’re cooking and cleaning for me.” I mean, I’ve nothing against her doing these things. It’s nice, but when we were married, she rarely cooked or cleaned, always busy planning the next rally or campaign.
“No, it’s here.” She pulls it from a pocket in her tunic-style dress and places the swirly coloured tin onto the table. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t. Marley gave it to me last night at the restaurant. Said it would be good for my back. I didn’t like to tell him no when he was trying to be helpful.”
“Oh. I thought he was high last night. Makes sense.” She swills her drink around her glass before taking a sip.
“Nice couple though.” I pour more eggnog, remembering it’s Merry’s favourite drink when I brought a bottle back from the States one Christmas.
“I can’t believe you remember how much I love this.” She lifts the bottle and tops up her tumbler on the table. “Nothing in the UK tastes as good as this.”
I want to tell her that nothing in the States tastes as good as her, but that would probably make things awkward. We’ve been getting along since she got here and I don’t want to spoil it by coming on too strong.
She adds more rum to the tumbler and we clink glasses. “Cheers.”
We both finish our meals in silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s not often you meet someone where you can just be yourself andenjoy each other’s company without words. I’ve always found that sanctuary with Merry. She knows me and I know her. Even after all these years, it’s like no time has passed at all.
“Well, that meal was incredible. Where’d you learn to cook like that?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “I had to learn to do a lot of things after you left.”
“You left me, remember? And if you also remember, I offered several times to have Finn move over here with me, but you insisted on keeping him in London.”
She straightens her spine. “I wasn’t about to give up my son. School holidays wouldn’t have been enough for me. I would have missed him too much.”
I crumple the napkin in my fist. “You don’t think I missed him? You chose to be a single parent, Merry. When are you going to stop with the digs?”
“I was a single parent long before we divorced, Alex. You were never around. I left you because I was tired of competing with your business.”
My hand drops the scrunched napkin on the table. “I wasn’t the only one who was married to their career, Merry. I think it’s time you took some of the responsibility for our failed marriage.”
Her chair scrapes as she stands. Without words, she collects her empty plate and walks around the dining table with a tight lip.
The joint in the tin looks more appealing by the second. “I take it there’s no dessert?” I shout after her, then train my ear to the other room, hoping I can lighten the mood, or at least make her mad so she storms back in here, but my heart sinks with the closing of the back door.
Rising from the chair, I grab the joint, shove the tin into my pocket, and walk to the kitchen window.
Merryssa struts across the poolside patio under the moonlight.
