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The man on the sofa looked eerily like Bright. Almost a car- bon copy, except, to Mary, he was lacking something. Despite him being a smilier version, she preferred Bright’s more se- rious face. His dark hair was slightly flecked with grey, cut in a very similar style, and his long legs sprawled out in front of him. The little girl who had been sitting on his knee leapt up and launched herself at Bright.
“Luce.” Bright bent to put an arm around her and lift her.
She wrapped her legs around him like a crab. His other hand still held Mary’s in a firm grip.
“We’ve been here for ages and Mummy said I wasn’t al- lowed to eat any of your food and all I’ve had is a glass of water.”
“Lucy, mind your manners,” the woman said. “Hi, Bri, sor- ry to spring this on you. It was a bit of a last-minute thing and we thought it would be nice to surprise you.” She came over for a hug and glanced down at their joined hands. “And sorry, this is?”
“Sorry, Di, this is Mary. Mary, my sister-in-law Diane — and that’s my brother Bern and Lucy and Tate.”
“Mary?” Bern barked out a huge laugh. “As in activities coordinator Mary?”
What had Bright said about her? She was surprised he’d even mentioned her, but for some reason it made her heart do a little skip.
“There’s chocolate stoorberries in the fridge,” Lucy said hopefully. “They’re a bit messy looking. Mummy is much better at them.”
Bright chuckled. “Yeah, you guys can have them.”
Lucy wriggled out of Bright’s grasp and she and Tate scut- tled over to the fridge.
“Hang on, I’ll help,” Di said, going over to assist.
Had he made them for her? Bright gave Mary’s hand a squeeze and then he let it go and went to embrace his broth- er. She felt the loss like a missing glove.
“Great to see you, man, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, after we talked I said to Di that I was worried about Dad and she suggested we get on a flight and go.” Bern looked over at Mary and smiled. Then frowned. “Oh sh— darn. Did we interrupt something? Sorry.”
“No, no, you’re fine,” Mary said, “but maybe I should go and let you guys catch up?”
“No, stay,” Bright said. “Please.”
“Yes, stay,” Bern agreed. “We can get some takeaways, crack open one of Bright’s wines from his stash, and get acquainted.”
“If you’re sure?”
Di called out from where she had the kids set up at Bright’s table, paper towels tucked into their collars. The strawber- ries were almost all gone, except for the bits all over Lucy and Tate’s faces. “Yes, please stay, Mary. Bright, what’s the stuff in the yellow jug in the fridge? If I didn’t know you bet- ter I’d have said it was eggnog?”
“It is actually,” Bight said, looking a bit embarrassed. “Right, shall we try that then,” Di suggested. She poured
them all a glass and they sat at the table.
Mary glanced around the house, feeling a bit curious. It wasn’t what she would have expected. The furniture looked as if it had all come from the same store and Bright had walked in and said ‘I’ll take that entire display, please.’
“Cheers,” Di said, clinking her glass with Mary’s.
“Are you a mermaid?” Tate asked around a mouthful of
fruit.
“She’s not, because she doesn’t have a tail,” Lucy told him. “She’s a fairy.”
“I take it you haven’t seen Dad yet?” Bright asked. Bern took a sip of his drink and then pulled a face.
“Nah, we thought we’d go in the morning? Have you got any beer?”
The eggnog was a bit odd, Mary had to admit. A bit thick and weird tasting. Bern had gone over to the fridge and she wondered how rude it would be to ask him to get her a beer too. Bern caught her looking and lifted his bottle, eyebrow raised in a question. She nodded and he grinned, coming back to the table with four bottles.
“Sorry, Bri, but that stuff is hideous.” He handed Bright a beer. “So, is it all good if we stay here?”
Bright glanced over at her, then mouthed ‘Sorry’. “Yeah, all good, man,” he said.
Mary had a brief pang of regret at what could have been if they’d got back and the house had been empty. They’d have been upstairs right now and ... oh, God, she wasn’t even wearing her good underwear. So that was a silver lining, she guessed.
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In the end they decided to cook, so while Bright and Bern stood out on the deck talking coal versus gas barbecues and the sausages thawed, Mary and Di rifled through Bright’s
kitchen for things to go with them, while the kids watched cartoons in the lounge.
Di was an environmental engineer which had intimidat- ed Mary initially but the more they talked, the more they discovered they had in common. Di was a keen cyclist and gardener and they both loved old movies. Di also loved Christmas.
“When I first started going out with Bern, he was hope- less at Christmas stuff.” She passed Mary some potato salad dressing and a can of beetroot from the pantry. “He never got me a gift, or wanted to do anything festive, but over the years I’ve managed to de-Grinch him. Especially since we had the kids.” She found an onion and a bag of potatoes and passed them up too. “I think he likes it as much as they do now.”
“What do you think about the whole thing with Klaus?” Mary asked, pulling out a pot.
“To be honest I think they should leave him to it. He might not even know what Christmas is in a year or two, and he’s not doing any harm, is he? Well, apart from nicking people’s socks.”
Mary salted the potatoes and turned on the gas. “Did you know the boys when their mum was alive?”
“Only vaguely. I was at the same school, but we didn’t re- ally run in the same circles until our final year when one of my girlfriends dated a friend of theirs.”
“Are they still together?” Mary asked, topping up their
wine. It was a nice one that Di had picked from what turned out to be an impressive selection in Bright’s garage.
“God, no,” Di laughed. “No. He cheated on her with the school’s hot girl, Tiffany Cooper. Then tried to crawl back to her after when Tiffany told everyone he was a dud in bed.”
“Who’s a dud in bed?” Bern asked, coming in the door. He pinched Di’s bum. “You’d better not be talking about me.” Di laughed and gave him a shove.
“Do you really think I’d have stuck around all these years if you weren’t a stud in the sack, babe?”
Mary’s mind went down a weird path, wondering if twins were identical in all ways, then forced herself to stop think- ing about Bright and sex.
The kids were hyper since it felt hours earlier for them, so after dinner they wanted to play games and be piggy-backed and build forts with Bright’s cushions. Mary watched him, seemingly unfazed by the chaos and the clambering for his attention. He’d probably make a good dad, she thought. If he wanted them. She did. But they’d only kissed. It was far too early to be imagining herself ten years down the track, married with kids.
“How many sleeps until Christmas?” Lucy asked Bern. “Two. Tomorrow we’re going to visit Pop, and then we can
hang up your stockings.”
“How will Santa know we’re here though?”
“We can write him a note,” Di said. “Now it must be bedtime.”
Both kids protested loudly, even though Tate looked dead on his feet.
“We want her to read us a story,” Lucy said, pointing to Mary.
“Her has a name,” Di said, “and we didn’t bring any books.”
Lucy’s face fell. “But we always have a story,” she said.
“I could tell you a story?” Mary offered. Di looked at her with a grateful smile and both kids clambered up on the couch beside her.
“Tell us a Cwismas one,” Tate said around the thumb in his mouth.
Mary thought for a minute. “Do you know the story about the magic peppermints?” she asked. Both kids shook their heads. Tate leaned in against her and she put her arm around his lovely warm pyjama-clad body. He was four, but he still had that lovely baby smell about him, fresh from the bath.
“Well, Christmas Eve is a very magical time,” Mary said. “It’s the only night of the year that you can grow candy in the garden.”
Lucy looked at her dubiously. “Lollies come from the shops.”
“Normally, yes,” Mary said. “But not on Christmas Eve. Because if you plant a peppermint in the garden on Christ- mas Eve, do you know what happens?” Both kids shook their heads. “Well, when Santa’s sleigh flies over the house, little bits of the magic that helps it fly sprinkle off and land on the ground. In the garden, the magic goes into the dirt and
makes the peppermints grow. Do you know what they grow into?” Tate was almost asleep, growing heavier against her, but Lucy was wide eyed.
“What?” she whispered. “Candy canes.”
Lucy looked over at her dad. “Is that true?”
He shrugged. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. I guess you’ll have to try.”
Lucy slid off the couch and stood in front of her dad. “Can we do it now?”
“It has to be when Santa comes, so you’ll have to wait un- til tomorrow. Maybe, since Uncle Bright doesn’t have a very big garden, you could plant them at your pop’s house?” Mary suggested. “And then you can all see what happens.”
“Okay,” Lucy said. “Will you do it with me?”
CHAPTER 35
According to the Dutch, hanging stockings comes from the custom of leaving shoes packed with food for Saint Nicholas’s donkeys. He would leave small gifts in return. Another legend claims we hang stockings by the chimney because one year a poor widowed man didn’t have enough money for his three daughters’ dowries, making it difficult for them to marry. Saint Nick dropped a bag of gold down their chimney one night and into the freshly washed stockings the girls had hung by the fire to dry.