Page 31 of Every Christmas Eve
Ben and I don’t need closure. We don’t have unanswered questions. We weren’t engaged to be married, nor were we ever an official couple to the outside world, so why did seeing him again upset me so much? Perhaps it was how I saw myself in little Ava, now growing up with a huge hole in her heart for the parent she lost far too soon. Perhaps it was for Ben himself, for navigating the storms of life without the woman he’d pledged to be with forever. Or perhaps it was the truth. Perhaps it was because the woman he’d married, the one he’d planned a future with, wasn’t me, like we both somehow thought it would be a long time ago.
Maybe because, now that it’s almost Christmas in the Irish village we both grew up in, I’m being reminded once more that my hurt over him still stings.
‘For someone who suffers from hay fever almost all year round, I will never understand why you opened a florist’s, Lou,’ Nana Molly told me earlier as I pretended to sneeze into a tissue to conceal my puffy face. ‘There’s no way you can go out on deliveries looking like that. Sit down by the window and have a warm drink. I know it’s cold out, but if we open the door for even a couple of minutes it should hopefully pass.’
‘I’m fine,’ I told her. ‘I need to keep going or I’ll be late, and we can’t have that in this business. Timing is everything.’
‘Five minutes won’t make a huge difference,’ she said, physically plonking me down at a table. ‘Your health has to come first, Lou. End of story.’
I felt bad for lying to her, especially as she fussed over melike she has done since I was a child if I as much as whimper. She even called in next door to the mini supermarket to fetch me some over-the-counter medication, which I then pretended to take. She was so proud of herself when I eventually looked better, but it was her kindness, a little time and the soothing taste of a warm, milky decaffeinated latte that really did the job.
With the heater blasting in my car and a good old-fashioned country-music playlist keeping me company, I am more than glad to have this personal delivery to get me out and about.
The young lady who ordered the flowers was adamant that I left it to this time to deliver to make sure her husband was home from work. She herself was due home at around five-thirty today, and he was usually home a little earlier, and it was essential I give him the flowers before she arrived. As usual, I got much more information from the client than I needed. All I had to do was find the house, a mere ten-minute drive away, then turn up on the doorstep with a bunch of flowers – on time. Or so I initially thought.
‘We had a row, if truth be told,’ she confided over the phone this morning. I could hear what sounded like a busy schoolyard in the background. ‘We’ve never had a row like it before in all our six years together, especially not since we got married in June, so I don’t want to be going home this evening for more. It’s our first Christmas in our new home too. Aw, do you think a bunch of flowers will make things better?’
At first the hairs on the back of my neck bristled at the thought of what exactly she might be dreading going home to, but when I heard the rest of the story, I knew I’d nothing to worry about.
‘It depends on what it is you’re trying to mend,’ I replied. ‘I could give you a whole lecture on how I believe flowers can create intimacy and connection, making not only the receiver but the giver feel instantly uplifted. I could say how the scents and the colours brighten up someone’s world, even in the darkest moments, and I could also say that they can provide joy and well-being that lasts for days. But then I would say that, wouldn’t I, but I don’t know what it is you’re trying to fix.’
I hear a school bell ring then, suggesting she’d have to go very soon, but she seemed in no hurry.
‘This is embarrassing, but you see, there’s this TikTok thing my little sister said I should do,’ she told me. ‘She said it was fun.’
‘Uh-huh,’ I replied, putting her on loudspeaker so I could arrange my latest holly wreath masterpiece as she rambled on. ‘And I’m guessing it wasn’t fun after all?’
Mum, who was clipping fresh holly branches beside me, was rolling her eyes again at how I always heard the sad stories. I’d no doubt she had a point.
‘No, it wasn’t fun at all. In fact, it was an absolute disaster,’ the young lady, whose name was Beth, told me. ‘Do you know what an “ick” is?’
I had an idea where this was going. Mum was making faces as she did her best to keep up.
‘Yes, I do know what an “ick” is,’ I said with a smile. ‘I have a daughter who keeps me up to date with all the modern-day lingo. It’s something that irritates you or puts you off a person, is that right?’
Mum makes an ‘ooh’ sound and nods along. I must admit I never could comprehend the point of this so-called ‘trend’ either.
‘Exactly, that’s it in a nutshell,’ she continued. ‘Like, how was anything to do with an ick for meevergoing to end well? He was so super offended when I said his dress sense didn’t really do anything for me, so then he told me that the Ralph Lauren shirt I bought him last Christmas, which cost me an arm and a leg, was now listed on his Vinted page because he’d never wear it in a month of Sundays! I had to stop recording the TikTok. I thought I was going to blow a gasket. The cheek!’
I had to tell my mother to stop laughing out loud beside me.
‘I totally lost it,’ she continued. ‘I called him every feckin’ name under the sun and told him he could spend the night in the spare room, which he ended up doing even though I didn’treallymean it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad at him for putting the shirt on Vinted, but I’m also sorry for starting the whole thing and for listening to my sister in the first place. No wonder she is single! Her and her stupid ick game. So anyhow, this is my attempt to say sorry. With flowers.’
I admired her efforts already. I was also very relieved her situation wasn’t a serious threat to her recent marriage.
‘You know, I’m not exactly one for dishing out relationship advice, Beth,’ I told her. ‘But I have an extra idea that might help? Along with the flowers, of course. You may or may not like it, but hear me out for a second.’
‘Go on, I’m all ears,’ she told me as a second bell rang in the background. ‘I swear I’ll do anything. Imagine telling someone what you don’t like about them! It doesn’t even make sense.’
I fully agreed and we set to work once she’d assured me that she wasn’t risking her job or abandoning her pupils while we talked it through. She was on a free period. Phew. And by the time we were finished, both of us were delighted with the end result.
‘I was going to say you’re wasted in that job, Lou, but no, you’re perfect for it! Totally perfect,’ she said. ‘I really need to get back to work now, but I’ll be recommending your florist’s to all my friends this Christmas and I’ll share on all my socials. Thank you!’
Even Mum was impressed.
‘You are wonderful,’ she told me, giving me a light hug on her way past. ‘You always did have a knack for seeing the bigger picture, Lou. I’m proud of you for that.’
So now here I am at a brand-new bungalow on a dark country lane, armed with a bunch of red roses and a card for a puzzled-looking young man who answers the door holding the cutest little puppy I ever did see.
