Page 12 of Christmas Sunrise
Marty
"‘Last Christmas’ is the best Christmas song ever written and I will duel anybody who says otherwise!" Jake points his finger at me from across the table.
"Come off it, Slade's ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’ is the one. It's happy, it's upbeat, it's Christmasssss!" I impersonate Noddy Holder.
"You're both off your rockers. You're sleeping on Mariah’s ‘All I Want for Christmas’." Maeve rolls her eyes atme as she lifts her glass of red wine.
"I'm with Maeve," Jenna says. "Although I am partial to ‘Santa Baby’ by Eartha Kitt."
"Well, at least none of you have mentioned ‘Feed the World’. I am relieved by that," Arabella jokes.
"What's your favourite Christmas song?" Maeve asks her friend.
"‘This Christmas’ by Donny Hathaway, of course. There isnobetter Christmas song," Arabella states.
"Actually, she's right. I'm with you, Arabella." Jenna nods.
"It's a close second," Jake agrees.
"God, that is a good song," I admit and then quickly survey everybody's glasses, most of which are nearly empty. I push up to stand, noticing a spot at the busy bar. "Right, who wants another?"
"Oh, will we just get a bottle?" Maeve asks Jenna and Arabella who both nod.
"And I'll have another mulled wine if they still have some," Jake asks.
"It's Christmas Eve in the White Horse and Nana O'Donoghue over there has been slicing up oranges for the last two days." I point at the bar. "They'll have enough to drown a fish."
"Is it me or does he get more Irish at Christmas?" I hear Jake ask as he leans towards Jenna.
I ignore whatever Jenna says in response and walk to the bar with a smile on my face. Once there, despite the growing crowd around me, I don't have to wait long before Nana's grandson Mickey is busy making the drinks and I turn back to watch the table we're all sat at.
I couldn't stop the rush of love I feel even if I tried. I enjoyed Christmas in Edinburgh with Jenna, Jake and their father and Carol last year, but this feels like the beginning of a tradition I want to do every year. Jenna and me going to the pub on Christmas Eve with whoever wants to join, then us hosting Christmas Day, me cooking the dinner with a little help from Ma. As I exhale contentedly, I allow myself to imagine that next year, there will be presents for our baby under our Christmas tree.But then I wipe that daydream out of my head as quickly as it came, because as good as it makes me feel, it also comes edged in something sharp and sour with sadness.
It's been a year since Jenna stopped taking the pill and I wouldn't say I'm heartbroken that she's not yet pregnant, but it's true that I feel an increasing sense of disappointment as each month passes. I'm unsure if Jenna feels the same. Once or twice, she's shed a few tears after getting a negative result on a pregnancy test, and occasionally I've heard her sigh as she opens up the fertility app on her phone, but in general she remains mostly impassive about it all, often keen to remind me that she won't be devastated if it doesn't happen, and occasionally quite firm in her tone when she reminds me of her age and what that means. That's probably why I'm nervous to share how disappointed I feel that it hasn't happened yet. When she's making such an effort to remain upbeat and pragmatic, it feels wrong that I share how low I sometimes feel that it hasn't happened yet. Instead, I try to follow her lead and focus on the positive which is just how much fun we're having trying to make it happen. I can't help but smirk to myself as I remember how she told me earlier that she's ovulating. That means more fun later tonight, and tomorrow too.
Thanking Mickey for the drinks and handing over the cash, I place the bottle of wine under my arm and then pick up mine and Jake's glasses. I'm about to walk back to the table but when I turn, I see a familiar face.
It's Rob, Arnie's older brother.
He's standing in a busy group of friends all talking animatedly on the other side of the room to where our table is. My instinct is to rush over there, to throw my arms around him because he lives in Manchester and it's been an age since I last saw him, but my hands are full.
Just as I’m wondering what to do, he looks up and catches my eye. He gives me this slightly astonished but also instantly warm smile and a nod that says as much as a hug would. I look down at my drinks and then back up at him, and he nods again and winks in exactly the same way his father would. I last saw Arnie's parents a few months ago, our meet-ups becoming less regular these days but still they matter to me. His whole family matters to me. Arnie still matters so much to me.
"I'll come find you in a bit," I call out and I don't know if he hears me over the crowd or not but he gives me another smile, this one more subdued but just as genuine, and it's so very bittersweet how like Arnie's smile it is.
It feels wrong to turn my back on Rob, but I do walk away and back to the table. After I hand Jake his drink, I go about pouring the women their wine. As I pass Jenna her glass, I explain who I just saw and that I want to go speak with him.
"Go, yes, of course, shall I come with you?"
"No need," I say. "But shall we raise a glass to him now?"
"Yes, absolutely."
I lift my glass a little apprehensively but then I catch Jenna's eye and she nods, a small smile curling her beautiful lips.
"To Arnie," I say, feeling the heat in my throat and in my eyes. "And to all absent friends."
"To Arnie," everybody repeats and I am instantly awash with emotion, but I don't fight it. I don't hide from it. I let it flood me because I know I can swim.
