Page 77 of The Best of Times
Aron nodded. Of course no matter what happened, he would have to serve out his three-month notice, so January in New York was unavoidable next year. What about the one after that?
He caught Granny staring at him. He presumed she was having similar thoughts. She winked at him and commenced battle with her plate of food.
“There is rather a lot, isn’t there?” she admitted.
The Professor speared a brussel sprout. “Leftovers for days,” he said. “That’s how it should be at Christmas.”
Granny rested her knife and fork. “We’ll be on honeymoon, Philip. We’re going tomorrow night, remember.”
Aron bristled at the mention of the mystery holiday. It was playing on his mind.
“Still not giving any clues, Prof?”
The Professor chewed slowly and shook his head.
“All I will say is,” he said eventually. “We can take the leftovers with us.”
Granny was frowning hard. That didn’t sound very exciting.
“How were the needy?” she said to the table.
Aron was relieved she’d changed the subject. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up. Yet, he wanted Granny to be prepared for the worst.
“Hungry,” the Professor replied. “We were run ragged. Weren’t we, Paul?”
Paul nodded, swallowing his food. “It was pretty manic but good fun. There are some real characters there. You should both come next year.”
Aron tried to ignore the flash of anticipation that swept over him.
Don’t read anything into it.
“No, thank you,” Granny said. “I do enough for the area. Christmas Day is my day. I had a most enjoyable morning with one of my favourite people.”
Considering Granny sat on a ton of committees and had made real change for her community in countless ways over the years, she could be indulged.
“She means Mary Poppins,” Aron explained.
He received a playful swat on the arm from Granny. “Stop fishing for compliments. They don’t mean anything if you catch them.”
“And how is Parkin this morning?” Paul asked with a wicked glint in his eye.
He’d always enjoyed seeing Aron getting told off from his grandmother. It appeared that hadn’t changed.
“He’s sleeping off his annual steak. Even dogs should be treated on Christmas morning,” Granny said. “He has enough left in the fridge for tonight. Thank you for looking after him, darling.”
Aron and Paul would both have their respective homes to themselves. If, by the end of the honeymoon, Aron hadn’t coaxed out of Paul what he wanted from this reunion, then he would head back to New York and lick his wounds.
“This time tomorrow, you’ll be married,” Aron said.
The Professor put down his knife and reached for Granny’s hand. He squeezed it and she went quite misty-eyed.
“What a Christmas this is turning out to be,” he said. “We’re so very lucky.”
Paul ran his foot against Aron’s calf, startling him. He glanced over and found Paul grinning back at him.
“You’re weird,” Aron said.
“Who’s weird?” the Professor asked.
