The log fire crackles as we sit in quiet for a few minutes, and I rest my face against Dylan’s chest. His heart thuds slowly against my ear, the sweater’s soft material warm against my cheek. Dylan strokes my hair, and we retreat to the peace of the moment.
The front door opens and slams closed, footsteps head down the hall, and my eight-year-old stepbrother halts as he looks at us. His cheeks are red from the cold, and he’s wrapped in a bulky blue coat, brown hair messy from being under his coat hood.
“Hey, Ed,” I say. “Did you and Mum find everything you needed?”
He scrunches his nose. “Dunno.” Without another word, he switches on the nearby TV and grabs his Xbox controller.
I glance at Dylan for a reaction to Ed’s rude behaviour, but he’s distracted as Mum walks into the room. She’s laden with shopping bags, her small figure swamped by a large coat, unruly blonde hair beneath her hood. We’re similar in many ways, and not just looks.
Dylan immediately stands. “Let me help, Karen.” He takes two large bags from Mum’s hands. “Is there anything else you need fetching from the car?”
She smiles. “No. That’s everything. Thank you.”
I’m unsure whether to be amused or happy about Dylan’s overpoliteness around Mum. I understand his nervousness because my mother is a forthright person. Her and me share a no-nonsense attitude to the world and people, and her suspicion around Dylan doesn’t surprise me. But Mum also knows me well enough to understand her opinion about Dylan won’t matter. Still, I’d prefer if she judged him based on who he is and not what she’s heard.
Part of her wariness is because Mum has no tolerance of infidelity. When she found out about Dad’s affair with a woman ten years younger than her, she didn’t hesitate in kicking him out of the house and moving on with her life. This involved a move to Spain a year later, when she met the newly retired Robert. I doubted Mum would take to Spanish life after spending her whole life in Bristol, but she’s happier than I ever remember.
Mum pulls her woollen gloves off and watches Dylan walk out of the room. “You’ve trained him well.” Her voice is deliberately loud and the words spoken in his direction.
“Don’t tease, Mum. He’s worried about making a good impression.”
“Dylan won’t have much chance to make an impression if you’re only staying until Boxing Day.” She gives me a pointed look.
“We have our honeymoon. We’ve already delayed for Liam’s wedding.”
At the topic of our wedding, Mum looks away. “Ed! Switch that off and help Dylan unpack the groceries.”
This should be interesting. I follow a grumbling Ed into the kitchen, to the man who doesn’t know how much food costs, and never buys or unpacks groceries himself. Unsurprisingly, Dylan hasn’t touched the contents of the bags.
“I’ll do this.” I pull a beer from the fridge and pass the bottle to Dylan. “Here. Sit down.”
Not needing to be asked twice, Dylan disappears with his beer. Mum watches, and I can practically hear the cogs whirring as she figures our relationship dynamic out.
“When we were at the shops, a couple of people asked about you two. Anna and Sabine invited themselves over, told me they have Christmas gifts for us.” Mum laughs. “I think they want to meet Dylan.”
“Mum,” I warn. “I hope you said no. Don’t turn Dylan into a tourist attraction.”
“Everybody in town knows you’re both here.”
“And? We came for a quiet Christmas.”
“From what I’ve seen, you two never have a quiet anything.” Mum turns to unload a bag of potatoes into the pantry. “A lot changed in your life.”
“It did.”
She pauses and turns around, eyes searching mine. “I worry about you, Sky. I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“I married the man who loves me. Simple.”
“Dylan Morgan, not Grant Peters.”
“Mum!”
“I liked Grant. You were together such a long time. It’s a shame what happened between you.”
“I thought you of all people would understand. Grant cheated on me. Even if I hadn’t met Dylan, I wouldn’t want Grant again.”
Mum cups my cheek. “But so soon, Sky. You hardly know Dylan.”