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Sam is still waiting for her answer, his fork hovering. He does have a point, she supposes. Naomiisdifferent. There’s no denying it. Or is it simply easy to behave well when you’re not living the nitty-gritty of day-to-day life together – who buys the toilet roll, who does the shopping, who puts the hoover round? Outside the grind, we can all hold on to our best selves. We can be dazzling.
‘Motherhood certainly seems to suit her,’ she says carefully. ‘And if she’s not the maternal type, as you say, then she’s right to keep working. She doesn’t have her mum anymore, does she? And her sister works?’
‘Think so. I’ve not asked.’
‘And her dad… poor bugger. No family to help her through the long days.’
‘I always said I’d be a stay-at-home dad.’
‘And now you’ve done a few days of childcare, you still think that, do you?’
He nods, not picking up that she’s teasing him. ‘I love looking after him. Love going in to him when he wakes up from his nap. His little face. I love it when she’s here too. When she’s with me and Toms, we feel like a family.’
‘I can see that. And I’ll not be here that much longer.’
‘No! I meant with you too.’
She laughs. ‘I’m only pulling your leg.’ She gets up, gestures for him to pass her his empty plate. ‘So you’re keen to try again, is that what you’re saying?’
‘I think it is, yeah.’
‘So ask her out to dinner.’ The words escape her without passing through her brain.
‘Are you serious?’
‘All I know is, when you were with her, you were more unhappy than you’d been since we first got here. Having seen her in action, I blamed it all on her, of course I did. You’re mine, you’re my blood, aren’t you? But if you’re beginning to feel like it wasn’t all her fault after all and you’re ready to talk things through, then maybe… maybe you’ve both grown up a bit. Follow your heart, I suppose I’m saying. Life’s too short not to. If you want her back, let her know. If she doesn’t feel the same, you’ll still have the little ’un, and in time you’ll see him more. It’s not as if there aren’t lots of families like that. I did all right with your mother. Your mother did all right with you. And we had a lot less than you’ve got going for you.’ She can’t quite believe she’s just said all that when Naomi still makes her feel uneasy. But Sam is a grown man, and it isn’t down to her to warn him away from the woman he either loves or thinks he loves. If she does, she risks losing him all over again.
She slides his plate on top of her own. ‘How’s Miranda, by the way?’
‘She’s fine. Good, yeah, why do you ask?’
‘No reason. Have you talked to her lately?’
‘Not really. I’ve been racing home to get the nursery finished. Maybe I’ll ask her to dinner.’
‘Miranda?’
‘No, Naomi.’
CHAPTER 23
Before you ask, no, I didn’t make that bit up about Sam thinking Joyce meant ask me out to dinner. It wasn’t wishful thinking; Joyce told me the next day and chuckled away at the misunderstanding. I responded with a hollow laugh and said something like:Sam? Ask me out? You’ve got to be joking!
Easier to hide your feelings over FaceTime, and by then she’d moved on to telling me all about how Sam had fixed up the nursery, what an amazing job he’d done, and my heart shrank with every word.Brilliant, I said, andWow, and all the things you say when you’re pleased. But I wasn’t pleased. As well as gutted, I was worried. He was getting in too deep, too fast, after everything he’d been through, and, of course, the isolation of the pandemic. I suppose I didn’t trust his judgement. But then I didn’t trust my own. I’m not above jealousy; no one is, not when you love someone. Not when deep down you wish they were yours.
But there I go again, jumping in. Let’s go back to Sam, who is waiting for Naomi to come home from work so that he can show her the labour of love he has created for their son.
The doorbell chimes through Joyce’s big old house a little after the kitchen clock’s spotted woodpecker rat-a-tat-tats four o’clock. Nervous anticipation leaping in his chest, Sam almost jogs to answer the door.
Out on the driveway, Naomi looks up expectantly, her expression darkening a fraction when she holds out her arms for Tommy, only for Sam to step back.
‘Come in a second,’ he says. ‘I need you to see something.’
‘Sam. I really don’t have—’
‘It’ll only take a minute. Literally. Come on.’ He holds the door wide.
Her shoulders drop, and, head low, she steps into the house.
