Page 89 of Sleep

I had to kiss him. I’d really needed this pep talk.

“So, I was thinking,” he continued, “your income flow is temporarily at a halt, so I can fill that gap for you. I propose that I give you a small amount of money weekly so you can pay your way, fill up your car. Then, once you get your first paycheck, you pay me back. We’ll set it all down on paper, a formal arrangement. Would that be agreeable?”

“A loan.”

“A loan, Pickle. One you need right now.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll have to figure something out.” I would. I had to.

“Darling, do you have any idea how much money I’ve shelled out on sleep therapy and private physicians and holistic treatments just so I can function? It didn’t help. Not one bit. Then you swan into my life, and I suddenly feel like a different person. A new person. I think I can safely pay you some money and not lose any sleep over it. Pun intended.”

“Jonny.” Laughter. I loved that.

“And anyway, you have enough on your mind. You’re in the middle of moving house, so to speak, and you need your car so you can go support your father. You also have your group to run tomorrow night, and you said something about a fitting? There’s no time for you to go figure anything out. Trust me. I understand these things, and so do you.”

Fuck. He was right. I had all that. And I still needed to ring Mark back and give him more grief. Ask the right questions. The ones I’d never known to ask before now.

“We should go through this contract of yours at some point too,” Jonny added. “I’d like to give you a crash course in contract negotiation in case you haven’t done this before.”

“That’s above and beyond—”

“No, it’s not. I have your back, Mabel. Just like you’ve had mine. You always have my back.”

“Okay,” I said weakly. “I hate it, but I have no choice. However right you are, I don’t want you to spend money on me. Not like that.”

“A loan. An official one. Then you keep moving your stuff in here, and we take every day as it comes. By the way, I have my office Christmas party next week, and I’d really like you to be there. Just an hour of your time so I can show you off. Please. I really want to. And while we’re on the subject of Christmas, we’re going to Jenny’s for lunch on Boxing Day—”

“Bossy much?”

“Or should I say, I am going to Jenny’s for lunch on Boxing Day because that’s what I always do. I bring dessert.”

“In that case, we bring dessert, but don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject.”

“So much to discuss,” he said airily. “My parents want us to eat at the club on Christmas Day. I hate that club, so I said no, and…I was wondering if we could have them over here, perhaps invite your dad?”

“You want to put Emilija Templar in the same room as Francis Donovan and have Christmas dinner?” I wanted to shriek, WTF, Jonny? But I kept my cool.

“Yes.” He grinned. “Why not? I’m sure it would be totally catastrophic, but hey, it’s Christmas. I’ve never had a Christmas where I wasn’t miserable and alone, so I want this. I want a tree, decorations, turkey with all the trimmings.” He lifted my face, smiling warmly as he looked me in the eyes. “I want this life. The one we’re building here.”

“I want that too.” I didn’t even have to think about that one. “That’s a lot of stuff to sort out. Do you even own decorations? And food shopping, present shopping…”

“Jenny has all the gifts in hand, including her own. She has a budget for that. All she’ll need from you is…”

“What?”

He smiled, letting his finger tap against my nose. “That you continue to make me happy. Leave the rest to her. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Then get her a bottle of wine or something.”

“With your money?”

“With your loan. I’ll get Jenny to pick up something for your dad too. Family is everything. I’ve never really had much of one, but this year, I have people to care for. My very own family.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. He looked so happy, so excited, like a small child discovering a magic gift. I suppose that was what was happening here because I felt it too. A warmth in my stomach. A new kind of calm.

I was a therapist. I’d spent my entire adulthood giving others life advice. Yet it had taken me until now to figure out what made me happy. Where I needed to be. I was broke. Jobless. My mother was losing her fight to live. I should have been distraught, yet I wasn’t. I was strong. Defiant.

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