Page 114 of Je T'aime, Actually
“Katharine Monroe Harrington, you stop right there.”
Kitty giggled but obeyed. “You know I like my full name, right?”
Monroe smiled. “I should hope so, it’s a fabulous name.” She closed the space between them. “Now, leave those alone, get changed, andthenyou can run amok with the balloons.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
“It’s your mum,” Monroe said, glancing at the screen before answering, “Hello?”
Both kids stared up at her, expectant.
“Okay, see you soon.”
She ended the call and looked at them with wide eyes. “They’re leaving in five minutes, so we’ve got less than an hour. Move it!”
Both kids shrieked with excitement and scrambled up the stairs.
ninety-seven
“Welcome home!” they all shouted as the door opened and two men wheeled Frank inside, tilting the chair gently over the threshold.
Poppy followed close behind, arms overloaded with bags, like a packhorse.
Frank smiled, though there was a flicker of discomfort behind it; the quiet sting of not being able to walk into his own home, especially in front of his children.
Monroe held the kids back until he was settled in an armchair. The hoist that would lift him into bed had been pushed neatly against the wall. The sofa had been shifted to the corner, and the units that once held trinkets and memories of their life together had been moved into the spare room.
It didn’t look like the same room he’d left that afternoon before the accident, but it was better than a hospital room.
“Looks lovely in here,” Poppy said, dropping the bags and thanking the drivers. She turned to Frank with a hopeful smile. “What do you think?”
Frank glanced around, then at his children. “It’s amazing,” he said, voice catching as his eyes filled. “It’s good to be home.” He opened one arm, and Benji and Kitty didn’t hesitate, rushing into his embrace.
“Thanks, Monroe,” he said quietly.
“Of course,” Monroe replied, her voice gentle. She glanced at Poppy. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” Poppy grimaced as she turned towards the kitchen. “Kitty, don’t climb on Dad, okay?”
Kitty’s shoulders slumped. “Aw, but—”
“Frank, don’t let them—”
He laughed. “I’m hardly in a position to stop them, am I?” Then he turned to Kitty. “When I’m in bed, you can jump in for a cuddle. Just need to be careful of the old bones, alright?”
Monroe stepped into the kitchen, filled the kettle, and flicked it on. When Poppy followed her in, Monroe didn’t wait. She pulled her into a hug, hands firm on her friend’s shoulders.
“He’s home,” Monroe whispered. “You can breathe now.”
Poppy let out a soft chuckle. “Am I that obvious?”
“Just a little,” Monroe smiled. “But I think it’s entirely valid.”
Poppy looked at her, her expression shifting. “There was a moment—well, more than a moment—that first night at the hospital. I didn’t think he’d make it. I didn’t say it out loud, not even to you, but…I spent the whole night trying to work out how I’d tell the kids. What I’d say. How we’d cope.” She exhaled shakily. “And now he’s home. Grumpy, frustrated, in pain…but home.”
Monroe reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You did it. You got him through it.”
Poppy blinked quickly and gave a small nod. “Wedid.”
