Page 121 of A Wedding in December


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“I think it does. I can’t give up secure employment, spend all that money and time on training, and then find no one will give me a job.”

“They might give you a job once you have the training.”

“But we don’t know.”

“There are no certainties in life, but one thing I know for sure is that we need to make some changes. And you should do something you want to do for a change, no compromises. No making a choice that fits with the family.”

“You’re telling me to be selfish.”

“Doing something for yourself doesn’t make you selfish. My students tell me it’s called self-care. Are you hungry? I could fry bacon.”

“You won’t keep that hot body if you keep eating bacon, Professor.”

“I need to keep my strength up, to keep you satisfied.” He topped up her coffee. “Talking of which, we should probably pick your underwear up from the floor.”

“My—” She turned her head and gasped. “They must have seen it when they walked in.”

“You’d think it might have given them a clue. Good job Katie is a doctor and not a detective. Criminals would be able to act without fear of reprisals.”

“This is not funny.” She scurried across the room and scooped up their discarded clothes. “It is a little strange that she didn’t realize what was going on.”

“She thought we were faking it. She probably thought those sounds of utter bliss that came from your mouth were exaggerated for effect, whereas in fact it was a response to my sexual prowess.”

She flung her bra at him and he caught it one-handed.

She felt strange—a combination of giddy teenager and anxious mother. She knew life did that—it dished out good and bad on the same plate and you were expected to eat it all up. She knew from experience that it was possible to smile and cry at the same time. To grieve and rejoice in the same breath.

Her phone pinged and she whirled around, searching for it.

“That will be one of the girls. Where did I leave it?”

“Try looking down the back of the sofa.”

She rummaged and found it. “It’s not the girls. It’s Catherine. She’s inviting me to join her for breakfast in town. You’re invited.”

“I don’t know. I can excavate ancient remains, but digging my way out of emotional situations is different. That’s your territory.”

“It’s obviously a crisis meeting—she wants to talk about the wedding. Perhaps it would be easier if I went on my own. But I wanted to talk to the girls.”

“Rosie will be talking to Dan. At least, I hope she will.”

“But Katie—what about Katie?”

“I’ll go and find her. Talk to her.”

“You? But you never—” She bit her lip. “Sorry. That’s probably on the list of things you’re not supposed to say to your partner, isn’t it? You never, along with you always. I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just that I’m the one that usually talks to the girls when there’s a problem.”

“I know, and I think it’s time that changed, don’t you? I may not have had as much practice as you, and no doubt I’ll say totally the wrong thing, but at least they’ll know I care. I want them to know that.”

“Oh Nick, they know you care—”

“I’ve always taken the easy parts of parenting and left you with the hard parts. I’m having that conversation with Katie. And if she yells, at least she’ll be yelling at me.”

Maybe Maggie was partly responsible for the fact that the girls turned to her. She’d always assumed she’d be better at it. She’d taken that role without considering whether it was a role that should be shared.

“You’re right, you should do it. Let her talk, Nick. Don’t try to fix it.”

“Should I punch Jordan?”

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