‘It sure is.’ Sadie bent down so they could see the small, wriggling, black-and-tan dachshund puppy in her arms. ‘This is Bunbury. He’s mine and Uncle Jonah’s Christmas present to each other.’
I was definitely going to hear,Mummy, can we get a dog?on a loop now, but for the moment, the presence of Bunbury was a blessing. The girls were so enthralled by him that they didn’t notice that Santa’s presents this year were, frankly, a bit shit due to her limited budget, and that Matt – despite all his pleading phone calls and all of Laura’s emails – hadn’t sent any at all.
Chess turned up not long after Sadie and Jonah, staggering under the weight of a case of Bibliophile, and we popped a bottle of blanc de blancs as we exchanged gifts. ‘This one is for you, Mum,’ Lex said, handing me an envelope. ‘From me.’
I opened it. It was a twenty-dollar gift voucher to Tsundoku. ‘Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.’
‘I wanted to. You deserve nice stuff too.’
‘They insisted on paying with their own money.’ Elias reached over to ruffle Lex’s hair the way he’d used to when they were younger but caught himself at the last minute. ‘I tried to bankroll them, but they weren’t having it.’
‘Because then the present would be from you.’ Lex stuck their chin out stubbornly. ‘It’s from me.’
Jonah chuckled. ‘You really are just like your mum, kiddo.’
I blinked, but he didn’t elaborate. ‘Anyone need a top-up?’ he asked, gesturing with the bottle of sparkling.
When we’d finished that bottle, we opened riesling and chardonnay, drinking them outside in the sun with the beautiful seafood platter Jonah had prepared. As evening fell, Rosie and Georgia and Bunbury eventually exhausted each other and fell asleep in a pile on the couch; Lex, peopled out, retired to their room with all the books they’d received; and Sadie opened a bottle of the Noriko. ‘Chessie’s favourite,’ she said, filling everyone’s glasses.
Elias raised his glass. ‘To family. Old and new.’
‘Family,’ I murmured along with everyone, and drank.
It had been more than a year since I’d tasted the Noriko. The last time had been right before Matt had left. Satoshi had poured him a glass to apologise for the fact that he’d borrowed his wife to be his waitress, and when Matt had stormed off, I’d downed half of it in a single swallow. Satoshi had watched me do it, an expression in his eyes I couldn’t quite identify. No one had ever looked at me like that before – somewhere between amused and awestruck.
‘We’ve all been through a lot of changes this year,’ Elias said. ‘Marriages—’ he raised his glass to Sadie and Jonah ‘—and divorces—’ he nodded at me ‘—and – I’m sorry, Chess, I don’t know you very well, I don’t know what to add to the list for you.’
‘Just file me under “changes, miscellaneous”,’ Chess said. ‘That’ll cover it.’
‘I doubt any of us are where we thought we’d be a few years ago,’ Elias said, ‘but I think we’re all better off for it.’
The Noriko was a wine with a long finish. I could still taste it on my palate later, layers unfolding as I stacked the dishwasher. It was silky and red-fruited with a hint of gentle spice, an embrace to sink into, deeper and deeper.
And Elias’s words, like the wine, lingered. Would I go back to who I was, the last time I had tasted this wine?
That Fiona was sure of so many things. She’d felt safe and secure and self-assured in a way that I hadn’t for a single second since. I craved that feeling so badly it felt like a biological imperative, some deep, powerful, hardwired instinct I couldn’t ignore.
But she’d also been wrong. She’d thought her husband loved her, but he didn’t. She’d thought her brothers didn’t, but they did.
And she hadn’t felt like herself. Wasn’t that what I’d told Satoshi that night, before I’d come home and Matt had blown up my life? How I’d disappeared into being a wife and a mother and I didn’t know whoFionawas anymore?
‘Fi, let me do that.’
I jumped. Jonah laughed. ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.’
He filled the kettle with water and flicked it on. ‘Seriously, let me do that. You go and relax.’
‘It’s okay. You cooked. The least I can do is clean.’
I slotted another plate into the dishwasher, pondering, before I spoke again. ‘Jonah, can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’ He lined up five mismatched mugs on the bench.
‘What did you mean before? When you said Lex was just like me?’
‘Hmmm? Oh. They’re strong-willed.’
‘What?’ That was the last answer I’d expected. ‘I’m not strong-willed.’
