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‘That,’ said Patrick, laying down his fork and leaning back in his chair, ‘was a fucking excellent pumpkin pie!’
‘Wasn’t it?’ said Michelle happily. ‘I’m a genius!’ Aishe shot her a look, to which Michelle added, ‘I am! I put the turkey in the oven, and everything else just happened around me like magic! Brilliant!’
‘Yes, the pie was well cooked,’ said Virginia. ‘Everything was. Although I was a little surprised not to see the sweet potato casserole. It’s always been Chad’s favourite.’
Chad flushed. ‘It’s OK, Mom,’ he said. ‘I don’t need the calories, anyway.’ He made a rueful face. ‘I’ve put on enough weight lately.’
Michelle reached out and poked him in the waist. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘You are hefting some extra chub.’
Chad fended off her finger. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Nope,’ said Michelle. ‘I never do. You should know that by now.’
She looked across to her father-in-law. Lowell had taken Rosie out of her highchair and was now holding her on his lap, feeding her spoonfuls of pumpkin pie. Rosie was clearly enjoying it — every time her grandfather reached down the spoon to scoop up more pie she’d make impatient grunting sounds, and as soon as the spoon came within reach she’d make a lunge for it with her mouth.
‘Look at the greedy little piglet,’ said Michelle, with satisfaction. ‘Takes after her mother.’
‘Dad, are you OK there?’ said Chad.
‘More than fine, thank you,’ said Lowell. ‘Me and my girl are just dandy.’
‘Um.’ Chad was clearly hesitant to break the mood. ‘Dad, I’m not sure she should be eating all that pie.’
That look was exactly the Lowell of old, thought Michelle. It took years off him.
‘Pumpkin is packed full of vital nutrients and antioxidants,’ said Lowell firmly. He dropped a kiss onto his granddaughter’s downy black hair. ‘Exactly what a growing girl needs.’
Chad blew out a breath. ‘OK, Dad.’ So only Michelle could hear, he added, ‘Just as long as he doesn’t feed her any linseed oil. It’s going to be enough of a poop-fest as it is.’
Aishe saw Patrick watching Lowell and Rosie, his face rather melancholy. Sensing her eyes on him, he glanced over.
‘I’m missing Tom,’ he said. ‘They change so fast when they’re little. Two weeks is a long time.’
He looked at Harry, propped on a cushion so he could eat with the grown-ups, steadily ploughing his way through his own piece of pie.
‘Pretty soon, Tom’ll be that age. And then—’ Patrick glanced over at Gulliver. ‘All hell will break loose.’
Gulliver’s expression was pained. ‘I am a model teenager,’ he said. ‘Well, I’m not as bad as you were, at least.’
‘But not as well behaved as I was,’ said Benedict, with a half smile. ‘Though I suspect a solid dose of rebellion might have done me the world of good.’
He stood and began to clear plates. ‘I’ll do the dishes,’ he said, when Michelle gave him an enquiring look. ‘I could sing for my supper, but I don’t think any of us wants that.’
‘Gulliver can help,’ said Aishe.
‘What?’ Gulliver saw his mother’s ‘don’t argue’ expression and slumped his shoulders dramatically. ‘Thanks a bunch.’
‘Better get used to it,’ said Patrick. ‘Jenico will want you to do more than dishes. And you’ll need to obey him with good grace, too. Or you’ll get a—’
‘Yes, I know.’ Gulliver climbed slowly to his feet. ‘A clip round the earhole.’
‘Fast learner,’ said Patrick, with a grin.
Benedict wasn’t the only one alarmed when Aishe entered the kitchen and took the dish towel from her son.
‘What do I have to do now?’ Gulliver said. ‘Lift barges? Tote bales?’
His mother’s expression flickered for a moment. But all she said was, ‘Go and help entertain the little ones. They’re too hyped up to sleep, and I think the adults are the now ones badly in need of an afternoon nap.’
Gulliver moved out the door with alacrity. Aishe picked up a crystal wineglass and began to dry it. Benedict’s every nerve went on high alert. He could feel her presence like a tingle of static. Her motives for being here were unknown to him, and that made him wary.
When Aishe spoke, he was so wound up that he almost dropped the pot he was washing.
‘Patrick told me your father died,’ she said.
‘Yes.’ Benedict did not know what else to say, so he resumed scrubbing.
‘He also told me that he thought your father was a complete psychopath. A manipulative, sadistic villain.’ Aishe gave Benedict a quick sideways glance. ‘Seems you were right to run.’
‘No,’ said Benedict, and this time he spoke with certainty. ‘No, I was a fool. But what’s done is done. Time to move on.’
He rinsed the pot and placed it on the draining board.
‘Where will you move to?’ said Aishe, after a moment.
Benedict glanced at her. ‘Why do you want to know?’
Aishe stood very still, the dish towel poised over the glass in her hand.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said quietly. ‘I think I need to know that someone has a plan.’
Benedict felt his heart lurch and, without thinking, hands still damp, reached out to touch her arm.
Aishe shied away. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘The last thing I need is your pity.’
‘That’s all right, then,’ said Benedict. ‘I’ve run out of pity. I used it all up on myself.’
Aishe smiled and put the glass to one side, and for the first time since he’d arrived in the house, looked Benedict directly in the eye.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Sorry I treated you so badly.’
‘You didn’t!’ Ingrained good manners wrestled with honesty. ‘Well, not all the time.’
Under Aishe’s amused stare, Benedict flushed.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘I can’t be any more embarrassed, so I may as well say this. I think you’re the strongest woman I know. It will be a wrench to have Gulliver gone, but you’ll deal with it, I know you will. You won’t give in.’
All trace of a smile had vanished from Aishe’s face. Her expression was ashen, stricken.
‘I’m not so sure,’ she said to him. ‘The pain of it—’ Her voice broke. ‘I don’t see how I can bear it—’
This time, Benedict didn’t hesitate. He took her in his arms, cradled her head on his chest and held her tight. He could feel her shaking with sobs that she was trying to keep under control, and dropped a kiss onto her hair.
‘It’s only distance,’ he murmured. ‘It’s only miles. You haven’t lost him. Not even a little bit. In fact, I can guarantee this will bring you and him closer.’
‘You can guarantee, can you?’ Aishe’s voice was muffled by his chest.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Benedict. ‘I can promise you that it will all work out for the best.’
Aishe lifted her head and stared at him, face streaked with tears. And then she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down onto hers.
It was several minutes before Benedict became aware that they were perilously close to committing an indecent act in someone else’s kitchen.
‘Reluctant as I am,’ he said, trying to catch his breath, ‘I think we need to stop.’
‘There must be a room with a lock somewhere in this house,’ said Aishe with a scowl.
‘That is seriously bad form!’ said Benedict.
As Aishe opened her mouth to make the obvious suggestion, he added, ‘And no, we can’t leave yet. We haven’t finished the dishes.’
Aishe adjusted her hand in a way that made his knees tremble and his will waver.
But then she said, ‘All right. We’ll be polite for one more hour, and then you’re coming back to my place.’
Benedict frowned. ‘What about Gulliver?’
‘Gulliver can learn life lesson number twenty-three,’ said Aishe.
‘Which is?’
Aishe kissed him. ‘Everyone is having more sex than you are.’
Chad pulled off the pyjama bottoms he’d worn in case he encountered his mother in the hallway, and flopped wearily back into bed.
‘Success?’ said Michelle.
‘That pumpkin pie looked just the same out as it did going in,’ he said. ‘And the amount of it! I practically had to hose her down!’ He blew out a breath. ‘But she’s asleep now. Until the next colonic onslaught, at least.’
Michelle wriggled right up to him and lay on her side, her hand resting on his chest. ‘Thanks,’ she said, and kissed his ear.
Chad turned his head. ‘Thank you.’
‘For?’
‘For doing what I hadn’t the nerve to.’
Michelle propped herself upon her elbow so she could look down at him.
‘You don’t mean when I had a shot of that Chinese whisky, do you?’
Chad shook his head. ‘That was insanity, not courage.’
‘Where did that stuff come from anyway?’
‘Jay gave it to Phil for a leaving present. Phil must have quietly stashed it in my briefcase.’
‘Jay’s an arsehole,’ said Michelle. ‘A twenty-four carat sphincter.’
‘Yup,’ said Chad. ‘But at least his choice of whisky was so bad you weren’t tempted to have another.’
‘I was pretty well behaved overall,’ said Michelle. ‘Considering. Patrick drank way more than I did, anyway.’
‘Yeah, but he can hold it,’ said Chad. ‘I liked him. I didn’t get to talk much to our ex-nanny, though.’
‘Well, he was too busy having sex in our kitchen.’
Chad lifted his head. ‘What!’
‘Doesn’t take that long to do dishes,’ said Michelle, darkly. ‘They were fornicating. I know it.’
Chad sunk back onto the pillow. ‘You’re crazy.’
He became aware that his wife had gone quiet. ‘You OK?’ he said.
‘Do you still want to go?’ said Michelle.
‘You mean on the trip?’
‘Because to be honest, I was kind of hoping that bringing your dad here might make you give it up. And at the same time, of course, encourage your dad to stop stockpiling legumes and erecting longboats. Two birds with one stone, as it were.’
Chad raised an eyebrow. ‘I think Dad will give up living in the study now. I’m not so sure about the longboat.’
‘Has he always had these tendencies?’ said Michelle with a frown. ‘I mean, it’s one thing to be obsessed with linseed and isotonic contractions, quite another to construct a floating flammable coffin.’
‘Is it?’ said her husband. ‘Maybe it just looks that way from the outside.’
Chad stared up at the ceiling. ‘Personally, I hope he keeps building it,’ he said. ‘And I hope he uses it. If you’re going to go, why not go in a rage of Valhalla-worthy flame?’
‘And you call me crazy,’ said his wife.
Chad rolled on his side, facing her, and ran his thumb down the side of her face. Michelle turned her head quickly to kiss the tip of it.
‘I love you,’ she said.
‘I love you, too.’ Chad ran his thumb gently over her lips. His expression was thoughtful.
‘But I still want to go,’ he said. ‘I want us to go. As a family.’
‘Why?’ Michelle said. ‘I don’t think you’ve given me an honest reason yet.’
‘Haven’t I?’ Surprised, Chad considered this. ‘No, you’re right. I don’t think I have.’
He smiled at her. ‘You know how I said I admired you for always being so sure about what you wanted? Well, I used to be like that too. I know I may not have come across that way, but I was. I wanted to marry you, I wanted to have our children, I wanted to live in our house, and live that life for the rest of our days.’
‘I wanted that too,’ said Michelle. ‘Exactly that.’
‘I know,’ said Chad. ‘And maybe we could have had it. But then Dad got sick, and—’
‘Oh my God, you freaked out!’ said his wife. ‘Darrell was right!’
Chad frowned. ‘What did Darrell say?’
‘That you’d had a brush with your own mortality, and it gave you the heebies so much you had to run away.’
‘Good to know you two talk about me behind my back.’
‘She’s my best friend!’ said Michelle. ‘There is no aspect of my life about which she is ignorant! By tomorrow, she’ll even know how fat you’ve got.’
‘I’ve put on a couple of pounds!’
‘You’re a chubster,’ said Michelle with satisfaction. ‘Welcome to the club.’
‘Anyway.’ Chad gave each syllable a pointed emphasis. ‘Darrell wasn’t entirely right. I did not freak out thinking about my death. I freaked out thinking about my life.’
‘How is that different?’
‘All right, maybe it isn’t,’ said Chad. ‘But can you not hound me about it?’
‘I do not hound!’ said Michelle. ‘OK, no, that’s a lie. I’m an Olympic gold medal-level hounder. All right,’ she added. ‘I promise to stay off your case. About this, anyway. So carry on – you were freaking out?’
Chad looked pained, but kept going. ‘For the first time,’ he said, ‘I started to seriously doubt that what I had done with my life was something to be proud of. All of a sudden, I had this urge to do more, to be more, before it was too late.’
‘What did you want to do?’ Michelle said. ‘What did you think was “more”?’
‘That’s why I went away for the month.’ Chad screwed up his mouth apologetically. ‘I knew I still wanted you, and the kids – I had no doubt about that. But I had to figure out what else I wanted, or I’d go, as you like to say, bonkers.’
‘And?’
‘And – oh, shit, Mitch. The more I thought about what I wanted to do, the more I realised how much I hadn’t done. It’s such a big world. So please, Mitch.’ He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Let’s go out there. Let’s see and do as much as we can.’
‘The kids are so young.’ Michelle felt her conviction slipping. ‘They’ll never remember it.’
‘Then we’ll go again,’ said Chad. ‘When they’re older. Why not?’ He smiled at her. ‘Who’s to stop us?’
‘Freakin’ A!’ said Michelle. ‘No one will dare get in our way!’
She blinked. ‘Shit. Did I just say yes?’
Chad cupped her face in his hand and kissed her. ‘Yup,’ he said. ‘And now it’s too late to take it back.’
‘Why didn’t you want to talk to your parents?’ Michelle asked, after a few more kisses. ‘Why was that so hard for you?’
Chad’s expression was rueful.
‘I wanted to have something concrete to tell them,’ he said. ‘I wanted to have a plan. I felt like if I talked to them without one, it would be tantamount to lying. Stupid, I know. And cowardly.’
‘Neither,’ said Michelle. ‘But it would have been helpful to know all this several weeks ago.’
‘Same problem,’ said Chad. ‘I felt like if I didn’t have a concrete plan, you’d have me by the balls.’
Michelle reached down. ‘You mean like this?’
‘No. But please don’t experiment.’
Michelle shifted her hand upwards and was gratified to hear her husband stifle a groan.
‘You know we haven’t done this in weeks!’ she said, accusingly. ‘I’m expecting dedicated and lengthy foreplay.’
Chad moved his hand up to her breast. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
From a distant bedroom came a cry of ‘Mom-mee!’
‘Christ’s sake!’ said Michelle. ‘That’s Harry! He never wakes up!’
From another bedroom came a screech of a pitch and intensity that made it clear a delayed response was not an option.
‘Freaking hell!’ Michelle glared at the door.
‘Are you sure you want to take these two?’ she said to Chad. ‘Could we not put them in storage?’
Chad swung his legs out of bed.
‘Don’t forget to wear your pyjamas,’ he said. ‘If my father catches you naked in the hall, it’ll cost us a fortune to ship the longboat all the way from Charlotte.’