Naomi had...
Merida.
Her birth mother had wanted nothing whatsoever to do with her and Naomi had no clue who her father was. There had been a foster mum when she’d been a teenager that had been amazing but she’d taken a well-earned retirement in Spain, though they still corresponded. And there was another foster family that she still sent a Christmas card to.
And of course, there were friends she had made along life’s way, but there was no family.
None.
Zip.
‘My mother gave me up for adoption,’ Naomi said, ‘but it never happened.’
She tensed as she awaited the inevitable ‘Why?’ that even virtual strangers felt compelled to ask.
It just made her feel worse.
There were millions of families who wanted babies, surely?
Or, ‘What about your grandparents, didn’t they want you?’
It was hell having to explain that, no, her mother hadn’t fully relinquished her rights for a few years, which had held Naomi in the foster system. And, no, her grandparents hadn’t wanted to clear up their daughter’s mess.
And that, no, there would be no tender reunion between mother and daughter.
At the age of eighteen Naomi had tried.
But her mother had remarried and wanted no reminder of her rebellious past.
Thankfully, though, Abe didn’t ask.
Instead, he watched her pinched face and two lines deepen between her dark blue eyes like a castle gate drawing up in defence. He thought of his own loud, brash family and the dramas and fights at times. He even thought back to his mother, and while there were no warm memories there, still there was history.
He couldn’t fathom having no one.
Yet he did not pry.
And she seemed incredibly grateful for that.
He watched as she visibly shook off dark thoughts and pushed out a smile.
‘So what sort of an uncle do you want to be?’ Naomi asked.
Given what she’d just told him, he didn’t dust off the notion, instead he told her the truth. ‘I really haven’t given it much thought.’ Now he did. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I can’t imagine that she’d want for anything...’ He’d made very sure of that. But as he’d combed through the contract and ensured decent chunks of access for his brother, there had been no thought of where he himself might fit in.
‘I’d like to be...’ Who examined it? Abe wondered. Who actually gave consideration to the type of uncle they wanted to be?
She had made him do just that.
He could hear the spit and crackle of the fire as he gazed into it. Maybe he was feeling maudlin. It would be his father’s funeral soon after all, but on this cold December night, the most guarded and closed off of all the Devereuxes paused a while and thought of the uncle he would like to be.
‘I could take her for pizza now and then,’ he said.
‘And show her how to eat it?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, but then shook his head. ‘I can’t think of anything else.’
‘That’s plenty to be going on with.’ Naomi smiled and when he tore off another slice, it seemed easier, rather than have him hand it to her, to join him on the floor. It simply did. And they sat side by side and spoke, not a lot but enough.