“I’m sorry your folks are shitheads.” He says it so matter-of-factly that it startles a laugh out of me. “I know my family isn’t perfect by any means, but I feel like I’m flaunting them in front of you.”
“You’re not,” I say. “This is probably the best Christmas I’ve had since . . . maybe forever.” I’m really,reallytrying not to cry.
It doesn’t help that Eggo’s eyes suddenly look watery and rimmed with red. He takes a step closer and slides his fingers through my hair. “Hey, princess, can I kiss you?” he whispers.
“Here? Now?”
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply, my eyes fluttering closed as Eggo closes the gap between us and brushes his lips to mine.
When we make our way back into the living room, Jody looks up from the video game, smiling. There’s no doubt in my mind she knows what went down in that kitchen. In fact, I’m pretty sure she engineered it like that. She might be the smartest person I know irl.
We eat our mini-puffs while Jody tells me stories of adolescent Eggo. They met at school when they were fourteen, were on-and-off boyfriend and girlfriend for a few years, until age eighteen when they found out she was pregnant with Logan.
“We’d already ‘officially’ broken up at this point, but when I told Finn I was expecting, he cried and tried to get back together with me,” she says.
Eggo shrugs. “I’d always wanted to be a dad. Literally a dream come true, but then a couple of years ago I got offered a transfer to Bath and well, it’s a premiership team and the money was good, and it won’t be forever, so we just worked out how often I could come down to see Logan.”
It won’t be forever.The words float around, not inside my head, but in my gut. They ache. I wonder how long he’ll let himself stay with the Cents before the call to be closer to his son gets too overwhelming.
Not that I want him to be in a city a hundred miles away from his only child. Not that I want him where I am. At some point my sports visa will expire and I’ll have to fuck off back to Australia again.
I excuse myself to the bathroom. Whilst I’m there I send a text message to Georgia.
Merry Christmas. Hope you have a great day.
That’s it. That’s all my message says. Her reply hits my phone as I’m washing my hands.
Thank you, Aiden. You too xx
I was wondering if after Christmas you’d like to go for a drink with me. Just me, not a double date like last time.
I’d love that.
I walk through to the lounge and don’t mention Georgia to either adult, though a sense of guilt sits heavily in my stomach.
But why should I feel guilty for chasing my own happiness?
Later, Eggo and I take Logan and his new Spider-Man scooter to the skate park near Eggo’s parents’ house. It’s surprisingly busy for the middle of Christmas Day. A few people have Santa hats pulled down over their helmets, and someone is playing Christmas music from a portable speaker.
“You’re a fantastic dad,” I say, as Eggo and I find an empty section of low wall to sit on.
He raises his brows at me. “Thanks. I just wish I was around more, you know?”
I nod, even though my own father spent every second keeping as far away from my siblings and me as possible. “Do you think you’ll move back here at some point?”
“Eventually, but not yet. Maybe if Cornwall joins the premiership. Who knows? What about you? Where will you go?” He shoots Logan, who appears to have made a friend already, a thumbs-up to let him know he’s watching him. “That’s Reuben. The strangler.”
“I love how readily forgiving kids are. Yeah, you strangled me, but I don’t know anyone else at the park, so shall we be friends again?” I say.
Eggo laughs.
“Honestly, I’m going to extend my visa for as long as possible. And when that finally expires and they won’t let me stay here any more, I’ll pack a few bags and run away to live in the woods with Trekkie until I die of hypothermia or like, eating the wrong mushrooms or something.”
He turns his whole body towards me and his eyes search my face, landing upon my lips, and for one terrifying, exhilarating second I think he might kiss me, right here in the middle of the skate park in front of dozens of families. “Do you want to talk about your folks?”
I simply stare at him and swallow the painful lump at the back of my throat.
