After the novelty of having numb extremities wears off, we go back to Pi’s hotel and wait in line to meet Father Christmas inthe main dining hall. Logan asks for a “Spider-Man scooter, but if the elves can’t make it in time, a Batman one would be fine, or even just a regular scooter, but please can it have lights on it.”
Santa also recognises Pi and me, and tries to organise a photo of the four of us, but Pi declines, staying behind the camera. Logan’s gifted a book about football which is promptly and vociferously rejected by him.
We go back to the hotel room and wash our feet in the shower, and then Pi drives us to my parents’ house.
Trekkie does not get on with Gristle and tries to mount my mum’s satanic rescue several times while Gristle attempts to remove Trekkie’s face with his three remaining teeth. Pi offers to leave his dog at The Headland, but Logan’s exhausted, so we take him back to Jody’s, tuck him into bed, sneak his gifts under the tree, and then head to the hotel.
My folks would be upset if they only saw me for a couple of hours on Christmas Day, so I drop Pi off with the room service menu and grab a taxi home.
I explain to Mum and Dad that Pi’s tired, and that we’ll both be over tomorrow for dinner. I’m met with a full-on sermon covering the topics of how much they admire Pi as a player—“he’s some boy”—how agreeable he comes across in various news articles they’ve read, and that they don’t blame him for wanting to get some rest.
“It’s the sea air. It’s the sea air,” they say repeatedly, while also dropping the least subtle hints that, “I could do a lot worse than that lad.”
So that makes every single member of my family at least partially aware there’s something going on between us.
Chapter 19
Aiden
Thursday 25th December 2025
Logan is officially the cutest living thing to have ever graced the planet, and spending time with him makes me realise how much I’d like to have kids of my own someday. Their familyunit, though completely nonstandard, causes my insides to ache in a way that’s both envious and hopeful.
We’ve spent the morning opening gifts, eating Celebrations, and playingAstro Boton Logan’s brand new PlayStation, which turns out to be the most enjoyable game I’ve played sinceLuigi’s Mansion. Brandon popped by with his kids, Hayden and Albie, and I understand what Logan meant when he’d said“bro has the biggest muscles he’s ever seen.”Brandon must be some kind of bodybuilder. Even in pro-rugby, I’ve never witnessed a neck that colossal before. The guy could probably drink peanut butter through a straw.
“Don’t give me that look,” Jody says to her ex while we’re all making snacks in the kitchen together after Brandon and his kids have left. “Not when you’ve brought your boyfriend a hundred miles to meet your family.”
“Like I told your child yesterday,” Eggo says, and Jody smirks. “We are not boyfriends. We are simply boys who are friends.”
“Mmhmm, and those are simply friendship kisses and friendship hand shandies you give each other,” she says.
It takes me a moment to realise what she means by hand shandies. Eggo doesn’t deny any of it.
Jody must see the panic in my face because she adds, “I won’t say anything to anyone, I promise. Not even Bran.”
But Eggo continues to stare at her. They’re both smiling, and I feel like such an outsider. They have all this history, and they have a kid together. And here I am, an intruder in their little family celebration.
One time a German Shepherd got onto the pitch at the training grounds. She had no idea what was going on, but she saw a ball, and was desperate to be a part of all the fun.
I’m the dog in this situation.
My phone buzzes. I take it out of my pocket and see a text message from my mum. I texted her last night before I crashedout, only so she wouldn’t have the excuse that I didn’t bother to send anything.
A slogan my brother, sister, and I came up with when we were younger was, “No ammo.”
Do not give her anything to complain about. Not one millimetre of leverage.
But where there’s a will, there’s a way. She will always find that crack in your armour to dig her fingernails into.
I glimpse the words“why can’t you just” and “son”and“Xmas”in the message and swipe it away without expanding it further. A few moments later, my phone rings. I tuck it back into my pocket whilst it’s still vibrating. If I let it ring out to voicemail, at least I can pretend the reason I didn’t pick up was because of something beyond my control. I could say I was driving, or the service was patchy.
“You can take that. Don’t let us stop you,” Jody says, obviously mistaking my decision not to answer as awkward politeness.
“Is that your mum?” Eggo asks.
I nod.
Jody seems to hear all the unsaid words. “Right, who wants a pint of Bailey’s? I know I do.” She carries the snacks—brie and cranberry mini-puffs—into the living room. Trekkie follows the food, leaving Eggo and me alone in the kitchen.
