Page 21 of Surrender
I elbow a moping Tanner and give Hayden a subtle nod in apology. We all go back to encouraging Rocky to blow out her candle, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at what we must look like from behind. Quite a sight. A bunch of adults huddled around a Gaviscon-coloured highchair in the dining room of our dad’s house just east of London.
On the left side of Rocky’s highchair are Vi and Hayden—the proud parents celebrating their daughter’s first birthday today. Vi’s giant mutt of a Saint Bernard, Bruce, is eye level with our beloved Rocky, slobber dripping from his jowls in the hopes of her dropping a tasty morsel.
Then there’s Camden and his bride, Indie. They shocked all of us with a secret elopement to Scotland last month. Indie is the new official team doctor for our dad’s football club, so their schedules are always conflicting. However, when they discovered that Arsenal and Bethnal’s schedules matched up for one rare off weekend, they ended up doing a quick getaway to tie the knot without all the fuss of a formal wedding. Since Camden and Tanner are twins, Tan was a pouting baby about the whole secret wedding none of us were invited to. But I knew it had everything to do with Indie not having any family who would have attended the wedding. Camden would do anything to save her from that pain.
Beside Indie is her best friend, Belle—a foetal surgeon just as brilliant as she is—who is happily married to our idiot of a brother, Tanner, despite the odds. How our twin brothers both found doctors to actually marry them, I’ll never quite understand.
On my other side is the youngest of our family, Booker. He has his arms wrapped cosily around his childhood best friend, Poppy. His skilled goalkeeping hands are freely rubbing her small, five-month pregnant belly. They aren’t engaged quite yet, but with the way they’ve been getting on, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.
Dad is standing on the opposite side of Rocky, smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen him smile in my entire life. Having a granddaughter has changed him, and I honestly don’t know what to think of him these days.
Our family has been changing in general. In a matter of only three years, my sister and three brothers have all done a complete one-eighty. All any of us used to care about were Sunday dinners at Dad’s, football schedules, football formations, football scores, and football recruits. Now, it’s all about babies, birthdays, engagements, and weddings. I’m the oldest of the lot, yet here I sit, fixating on the same bloody woman from last year who won’t even speak to me.
I thought I was nearly over her until I saw her last week. She was flirting with me in the changing room. I know it. All this time, I thought she regretted what happened, but that little spark she had in her eyes the night we fucked was there again. Even as she smacked me at the end, I saw that fire in her eyes.
I crave that sort of fire in my life.
“Gareth!” Hayden’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “Do you want vanilla or chocolate?”
Shaking myself out of my deep thoughts, I take the chocolate cake out of his hand and sit down on the stool at the end of the large kitchen counter. Looking down, I break off a bite and attempt to conceal my wandering thoughts before any of my nosey family catches on.
Vi dishes out a piece of vanilla to Booker, who sidles up next to me. “You all right, Gareth?” His dark eyes pin me with worry. “You seem tense.”
I shrug my shoulders dismissively. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Vi interjects and hands a piece of vanilla to Tanner, who’s hoisted himself up on the counter next to Vi. “You’re in a mood, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’ve missed a lot of Sunday dinners this year.”
“It hasn’t been by choice,” I argue over a forkful. It’s fucking delicious. God, I love when Vi bakes. “My schedule has been mad.”
Vi eyes me dubiously. “Look around the room, Gareth. You’re not the only footballer here with a heavy travel schedule, yet the rest of this lot manage to make it home just fine. We’ve been doing Sunday dinners at Dad’s for years now. It’s important. And this year is no different than last year.”
Except it is,I think to myself as I glance around at all the happy couples surrounding me.
Tanner takes a bite and nudges Vi’s shoulder. “I think it’s a girl problem.”
Everyone’s heads snap to me, but Dad interrupts the moment. “I think our little Rocky Doll needs her nappy changed.” He lifts her out of the highchair and strides out of the kitchen with purpose. I have to force myself not to roll my eyes because he rarely changed Booker’s nappies after Mum died.
A dark memory hits me like a ton of bricks. Dad is sitting at the dining room table in our house in London, and I am coming into the kitchen to get Mum a drink.
8 Years Old
“What are you doing?” Dad snaps at me from his place at the table. He’s been sitting there for hours. No book. No telly. No food or drink. Just staring at his fisted hands in front of him.
My eyes narrow. I look over at Vi, who’s struggling to change Booker’s nappy on the floor. She shakes her head at me in fear. But I’m not afraid, so I reply, “Mum is thirsty.”
I fill a glass and turn to find him standing behind me.
“I’ll take it to her.” He reaches out for the glass, his sweaty fingers gripping mine wrapped around the cup.
“No!” I shout, yanking it back toward my chest.
“I said I’ll take it to her!” he booms and reaches for the glass again. I refuse him again and attempt to push him away just as the glass of water crashes to the floor.
“Look what you did!” I cry and bend down to pick up the shards before Booker crawls over and cuts himself. I look up at our father, who just stares down at the mess. His face is blank, like a cartoon character without any feelings. He bends down to help, but I shove him back. “Go away. I’m taking the water to Mummy. If you do it, you’ll only fight, and she’s really bad today!”
He sucks in a big gulp of air and, without another word, he leaves.
I stand up and look at Vi. “Are you okay?”
