Today is not turning out too well.
At breakfast this morning Dad asked me how I’d feel about going to Marjorie Maloney’s house for Christmas dinner. I suppose I should have seen that coming really, but I didn’t. It had never once occurred to me that of all the people we could spend Christmas Day with, we might end up with her.
I felt like telling him I’d rather drink sour milk out of a mucky boot, but … well, it’s kind of hard to explain, but the way he asked me, as if he really cared about what I wanted, as if he’d understand if I said I didn’t fancy it … I mean, he could have just told me we were going, couldn’t he? What could I have done? Stayed at home by myself and had beans on toast?
So anyway, it felt like he was treating me like a grown-up, which made me feel that I should act like a grown-up, so I couldn’t stamp my foot and throw something. I was tempted to do that a bit – and there was a jug of milk on the table that would have been perfect – but instead I managed to say, ‘I suppose it’s OK, if that’s what you want.’
It’s Christmas for him too – I had to remember that. And Marjorie is his friend, after all. I mean, it would be almost like me asking him if Chloe could come around here and have dinner with us. Almost, but not quite.
Anyway, I have to say it felt good when he smiled and said, ‘Thanks Liz.’
And it’s better that we’re going over to her house, instead of the other way around, so it won’t feel like she’s taking Mam’s place at all. And there are going to be other people there too: Marjorie’s brother and his wife and their two kids, who all live in Cork, and Marjorie’s father who lives with them. So there’ll be quite a crowd, which actually might be a lot better than just Dad and me here, all by ourselves.
For one thing, we won’t really be able to think about Mam too much, with all the other people around. And for another, you can be sure Marjorie’s turkey will be a lot better than anything that Dad and I could manage.
Bet it won’t be half as nice as Mam’s though.
Right, I’m off now to revise for our Christmas tests. History and maths tomorrow, and I’m afraid I haven’t improved much in history since the parent-teacher meeting. Today Mr O’Connor said he hoped I wasn’t considering a career in anything that involved history. I promised him that it had never occurred to me.
Holidays in three more days, hurrah – and I’ve managed to persuade Chloe to come to Nosh. Wonder if Chris will sit beside me.