Page 44 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
“Work,” said Kate. “Of sorts. She’s selling a yacht out there and the owner is letting them stay on it over Christmas.”
“Phew!” said Mac. “She has the life, eh? Well, that’s good. I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“Oh, Dad,” said Kate. “You’re a better person than me. I’m not sure I would be so forgiving.”
Her dad smiled.
“Really?” he said. “What about Matt?”
“What about Matt?” Kate asked.
“After the falling-out you two had,” said Mac, “I thought you’d never speak again. And look at you now. Best mates, living in the same village, baking for him...”
“Well, that’s different, isn’t it,” said Kate. “We weren’t married with kids.”
“True,” said her dad. “But your feelings for Matt were...” He paused as he tried to find the right word. “Intense,” he said finally. Kate shifted in her chair and Mac changed the subject. “I know your mum was no angel,” he said.
“No angel?” said Kate, relieved to be on safer ground. “That’s an understatement!”
“She was unhappy with herself,” said Mac.
“There is no excuse for her behavior,” said Kate. “I don’t know why you stood for it. I’d have thrown her out after the first affair.”
Her dad grimaced and Kate wished she hadn’t said so much. She was always worried he might lapse back into depression.
“With someone like your mum,” he said, “you always hope they’ll change. Each time they come back they swear it’ll never happen again, and my God you want to believe them so badly.” He stopped; his eyes were fixed on a patch of wall behind Kate’s head, but Kate could tell his mind was far away. He blinked and his reverie had passed. He looked at Kate, smiling.
“Maybe Gerry’s the man to finally tame her,” he said. “Good luck to him. He’ll need it.”
Kate’s phone blipped and the screen lit up. It was a text message from Matt.
On the fifth date of Shagmas my true love gave to me,
One gay man dancing,
One date of drinking,
One fireman skating,
One vegan weeping
And a no-show outside the Pear Tree!
Kate shook her head and typed back:
You are hilarious. Have you considered giving up catering and going into comedy?
Kate took her phone and shut it in a drawer in the dresser. “That man is the bane of my life.”
“Matt?” asked Mac.
“The one and only.”
“He brings out your sparkle,” said Mac.
“That’s not sparkle,” Kate corrected. “It’s rage-glitter.”
Kate often felt that in Mac’s eyes, Matt could do no wrong. With Matt’s dad not around when they were kids, Mac had stepped in as a male influence, although Kate suspected this was less an altruistic gesture and more that he had a daughter who wasn’t even slightly interested in football or cricket.
