Page 68 of A Winter in Wonderland
Chapter 31
Itwasn’t until I got in from work that I looked at my phone again. By this time, a sleepy Christmas spirit had swept over the chalet, the proverbial chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Candles burned, the fireplace was lit, workers were strewn around the living areas quietly chatting on phones or reading, old-fashioned Christmas music played from an Echo in the corner. It seemed we were all feeling the after-effects of the late night last night, followed by the three a.m. outdoor fun, and then a full day of manual work.
Trudging my weary limbs up the stairs, I opened the door to my room to see Esteri’s towel and slippers gone, so she must be soothing it all out in the sauna. I would join her, but I had a call to return.
‘Hi, Mum.’ I smiled into the camera when FaceTime connected, hoping my face was still able to convey a modicum of festive spirit.
‘Hi, sweetheart! Merry Christmas,’ my mum said from allthe way over in Malta. Her hair, dark like mine, was swept up in a clip, with loose bits hanging down that probably hadn’t been there at the start of her day. She wore a gold T-shirt and gold, sparkling earrings, together with her classic understated make-up. When she was my mum, at home, she was never the glamorous mum. She was just ‘Mum’. She wore jeans and cosy sweatshirts. Now she lived somewhere she probably rarely needed sweaters. She was now a restaurateur, so she’d evolved into dressing smarter, looking smarter. I don’t remember her ever being down about the way she looked, but I guess people just change when their circumstances change.
My stepbrother stepped into frame behind Mum and waved. ‘Hope you had a good day, Byron.’
‘How was your day, honey?’ Mum said, carrying the phone onto her porch, the sun dipping low behind her as she settled into a wooden chair overlooking the ocean. ‘Did you cope all right with all the Christmas stuff?’
‘Yeah, it was fine.’ Mum knows I don’t participate in Christmas, of course, but I’ve never actually listed all the reasons to her why. I know she’s always felt guilty for leaving and there’s no benefit to me piling that on. ‘I went snowmobiling today, and we had a big party yesterday evening which was actually a lot of fun.’
‘Oh right, with the new boyfriend, Josh.’ Mum nodded.
‘What? No, he’s not a boyfriend, nothing happened. I take it you’ve already spoken to Shay, then?’
‘It was actually your dad that let it spill.’
Oh Dad. I loved him and his interfering ways, usually,but the fact they even knew about Josh at this stage was a smidge mortifying. ‘Anyway,’ I changed the subject. ‘What about you? What have you all done today?’
Mum went off telling me about the family present-opening, the family trip to church, the family meal and the family movie night they were about to sit down to, and even though it felt like a lifetime since she left, I couldn’t help this nagging little stab that wanted to twist through me and remind me,you’re not part of her family any more…
I put my hand on my stomach to try and calm the angry little voice inside (that’s where I imagine she hides and grumbles at me from), and as if sensing a shift, Mum changed tack. ‘Myla, sweetheart, enough about boring old me. Please tell me everything about Lapland. Are you enjoying yourself?’
I hadn’t meant that memory to bubble to the surface. Not now. With one more deep breath, I pushed it back down and released my hand. ‘I am. It’s been a lot of work, but I think I’m going to really like January.’
‘Will it be quieter?’
‘Not for a while, but I think I just feel a bit more settled now. A bit more like I actually live here, you know, so I can appreciate it more.’
‘I do know.’ She nodded, and I knew she was thinking of when she first moved over to Malta, once I’d started university. Before that, although Shay and I had both insisted on continuing to live in Yarmouth with dad, we’d gone to stay with Mum every other weekend, and we’d visited her in Malta a couple of times. Itwasbeautiful.
‘Is it hard to feel festive at the beach?’ I asked, thinking already about where I should spend next Christmas.
She thought about it. ‘No.’
Oh, maybe not then. Not that I would have definitely gone toherbeach, but just some beach. Perhaps further afield.
When she didn’t elaborate further on the ‘no’ (she didn’t have to, I predicted she was thinking something along the lines ofit’s always festive where family is), I thought it might be time to ring off.
‘Well, Mum, I don’t want to keep you from your Christmas movie night. What are you all watching?’
‘Die Hard, apparently.’
‘You likeDie Hardnow?’
‘No, but Byron wanted to watch it and I made us all sit down toThe Nutcrackeryesterday, so … ’
I smiled at my mum. ‘StillThe Nutcracker?’
‘AlwaysThe Nutcracker.’
‘All right. Well, Merry Christmas to you all.’
‘And to you, Myla. Call me again soon, OK? I want a video tour of your winter wonderland.’
I promised I would, and we ended the call.
So that was it. I’d made it not onlytoChristmas, but now to the end of the day itself as well. I yawned, visions of sugarplum fairies beginning to dance in my head.
