Always, in December by Emily Stone
Chapter Twenty-Six
Josie sat curled up on the sofa once more, toasty warm from the fire. There was something comforting, and a little mesmerising, about watching it eat away at the wood, sparking occasionally as it did so. Memo and Grandad’s red stockings hung above the fireplace as part of the Christmas decorations – sticklers for tradition, they did one for each other every year. She knew they would have kept doing one for her too, if she’d ever spent Christmas here.
Max was in the kitchen, insisting that he fix her a hot drink and a snack, even though he had no idea how to work the appliances, so she caught the occasional hiss or grunt as he tried to figure it out. While he was busy, she rang Helen.
‘Hello, darling.’ Her voice was a little tired, but it didn’t sound too panicked or emotional, which Josie took as a good sign.
‘Hi. Have you heard anything – is there any update at all? Have you been allowed back in to see her?’
‘Not yet – the afternoon visiting hours are about to stop, but she’s been in for another scan, apparently. I don’t think that’s a bad thing though – it means they’re looking after her, right?’
‘I guess,’ Josie said slowly, not liking the idea of Memo being wheeled around the hospital with no one to keep her company.
‘There’s talk of surgery, I think.’
‘Surgery?’ Josie’s heart jolted. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘Well, I don’t think it’s necessarily bad if it helps her, and it’s not right away – there’s a waiting list, apparently.’ There was a long sigh. ‘Anyway, I don’t think there’s anything we can do for now, darling. It’s a waiting game until we know any more.’
‘Are you staying there? Maybe I should come back.’
‘I don’t think so, darling – you might as well get some rest there, then come back in the morning. I’m going to try and convince your grandad to leave too, if we’re not allowed back in in the next hour. There’s no point in us all sleeping overnight here.’
‘Alright. But don’t you need anything from the cottage? You or Grandad?’
‘No, it’s fine, I came back for a bit today actually – you were out.’
‘Sorry,’ Josie said immediately. ‘I went for a walk with . . . Max is here.’ She glanced into the kitchen, but he still seemed distracted.
‘Is that so?’ To Josie’s surprise, Helen didn’t ask who Max was – clearly he’d made a big enough impression at the time to lodge himself in Helen’s memory.
‘Umm, yes.’ She wasn’t sure how to explain exactly what was going on between them, being as how she didn’t really know herself.
‘Well, I’m glad of it.’
Josie frowned. ‘You are?’
‘Yes, I’m glad you’re not alone. Has he . . . talked to you about anything?’
Josie glanced at him again, then quickly away. ‘Not yet,’ she said, really hoping Helen wouldn’t go into it now.
She only sighed. ‘Your grandad is off trying to find one of the doctors, so I think I’d better go and find him, darling. He’s not doing very well with the sitting and waiting.’ No, Josie thought, he wouldn’t be.
‘Alright. You promise to call me the moment you hear anything?’ A bit of optimism couldn’t hurt, after all.
‘I promise. I’ll text you, let you know when we’re on the way back.’
Josie hung up as Max came back with a plate of scrambled eggs on toast, which he handed over with a sort of apologetic grimace. ‘You’re not having any?’ she asked as he sat down next to her.
‘I’m not really hungry, but you should go ahead, eat.’ He glanced at her plate. ‘If you’re generous enough to call that food.’
She ate in relative silence on the sofa, barely even tasting the food. But she ate it all, her stomach feeling better because of it, and set the plate aside. Next to her, Max was holding a mug, staring at the fire as she’d been doing. He looked just as tired as she felt, pale and drawn.
‘So,’ she said. ‘No New York for Christmas this year then?’
He looked at her, and hesitated before speaking. ‘No, well, my parents are actually in the UK at the moment – we’re having Christmas all together at my sister’s flat – she even managed to get the day off work.’
Josie bit her lip. ‘And now you’re here with me instead.’ Two days before Christmas, no less.
Max shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about it. I want to be here and they understand.’ She wondered what, exactly, he’d told them when he’d left at the drop of a hat to come to her – his parents had never even met her, and she doubted her brief encounter with his sister in New York had left a positive impression.
Josie let her head drop companionably on his shoulder and felt a tingle across her scalp as he stroked her arm. Needing the warmth, the comfort, she tilted her face up so she could kiss him and he returned it, soft and gentle, in a way that made her sigh. He stared into her eyes as they broke away. He was the only person she’d ever met who had ever looked at her like that – in a way that made her feel like he was looking at all of her, and still liked everything about her.
‘Josie,’ he began, tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘I know this isn’t really the right time to say this . . .’ She felt herself tense next to him, waiting for the blow. He ran his hand down the back of her neck, left it there. ‘But I love you.’ His lips did that small, half smile – the one she knew he truly meant.
Josie felt herself holding her breath as she searched his face, the words he’d spoken not quite feeling real. She reached her own hand up to rest it on his, and took a breath. ‘Max—’
But before she could finish he closed the distance between them and kissed her again softly. Like he knew that she wouldn’t be able to say it back – not yet. Like he understood that she was worried she was just too emotional to mean anything she said right now, and was too scared that he might leave her again if she did say it. So when he pulled back, she just closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his.
‘Will you stay with me tonight?’ she asked instead.
His lips curved. ‘Of course.’
She led him up the narrow staircase to her old bedroom, figuring the scandal of her sharing her single bed with a man would be overshadowed by more pressing matters at the moment. Her grandparents had barely touched her room since she’d moved out, all those years ago. They’d kept it hers even though she hardly ever used it, hadn’t changed it into an office or a gym – it wasn’t even a spare room, couldn’t be, with all her things still there, her teenage posters still on the wall, a line of cuddly animals on the top of the bookshelf, the ones she’d kept resolutely all the way to eighteen.
Once they’d each used the bathroom, Josie slipped into her pyjamas, he stripped down to his boxers and they got into the single bed together, wrapped so tightly together that they fitted as easily as one person. Despite how tired she felt, her body was still tense and rigid, on high alert as she waited for a call. She didn’t think she’d be able to stop it, was sure that she had another sleepless night ahead of her, but Max stroked her back in a slow, soothing rhythm and she felt herself start to drift. She fell asleep listening to the rhythm of his heart.
Sleep didn’t hold her for long though. She woke in the middle of the night and immediately reached for her phone. Two messages – one from Helen, one from Bia. She opened the one from Helen first. Couldn’t get your grandad to leave until we know more. Don’t worry – no change. See you tomorrow morning. Xx
She let out a slow breath, then read Bia’s message. Is Max there?
He is,she typed back. I hear you sent him.
She got a message back immediately, making her wonder what Bia was doing, to still be awake at this time. Sort of. Are you ok?
Sort of.
I’m here when you need me, ok?
I know. In the meantime, have fun for the two of us, ok?
She got out of bed and slipped on an old dressing gown, not bothering to care how she looked. It was dark outside, but there was still a layer of bright white snow in the garden, and the moonlight bounced off it, taking away some of the blackness.
Her stomach was churning with anxiety again, so she left Max sleeping and tiptoed down the creaking stairs. She was sitting in front of the dying embers of the fire when he came down to join her, not long after. She glanced up. ‘Sorry – did I wake you?’
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve just got a bit of a headache is all.’
She got up and found some paracetamol in one of the kitchen drawers, handed it to him along with a glass of water. Then they went back to the sofa, sitting in companionable silence for a little while, Josie becoming so lost in thought, in worries over Memo, that when Max spoke, it made her jolt. ‘Do you have any candles?’
She frowned. ‘Probably, why?’
‘Let’s find them.’ It didn’t take long, knowing her grandparents as she did, and she came back with a selection, along with some matches. He took one – a big, cylinder candle – and twisted it in his hands. ‘In some places, they have a tradition at Christmas where they light candles for lost loved ones.’ He looked at her, the orange glow of the embers reflected in his eyes. She bit her lip, then nodded.
She lit two candles for her parents and placed them on top of the fireplace, watching the light flicker. The flame was so fragile – one single breath and it could be put out. He lit one himself, and placed it next to hers. They watched them for a moment, then Josie glanced at him. ‘Who’s it for?’
He hesitated. ‘Someone who died, far too young.’
She remembered how he always seemed to get it, that weight you carry when you lose a loved one. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, realising that she was apologising in the way everyone did when she told them about her parents. But there wasn’t another word that was right, she realised now.
‘That’s ok.’ He took her hand. ‘I was angry for a while, but I’m not now.’
Josie closed her eyes to banish the burning. ‘I just can’t bear it,’ she whispered. ‘What if I’m lighting another one for my grandmother next year?’
He turned her to face him, ran his hands down her arms in a gentle caress. ‘Do you remember what you told me at Laura’s wedding, in September?’
She sniffed a little, thinking specifically of how she’d yelled at him, how they’d ended up kissing. I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again. Apparently, she’d been wrong. ‘I probably told you more than one thing.’
The corner of his mouth crooked up before his expression grew soft again. ‘You said that you were glad of the sadness, that it meant you remembered your parents, that you loved them, and that it makes you who you are today.’ She nodded, finding it slightly amazing that he’d remembered so exactly. ‘So if the worst happens, you’ll be sad, but that will mean you loved her and remember her.’
She pressed her lips to stop the sob, her control almost wavering, but nodded again. It was better, so much better, that he wasn’t trying to offer false promises, to tell her it would be fine when no one could know that. And she believed what she’d said to him, even though, right now, it was hard to think there was a time when she’d feel like that again, if the worst were to happen.
Max cupped her face, lifted it so that her gaze met his. ‘Josie,’ he began slowly, and the look in his eye made her stomach twist painfully – she got the impression she was not going to like whatever was coming next. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about.’ He took a breath and her stomach started to churn again. ‘Something I should have told you last December.’
Before she could answer, her phone rang and she jumped, then scrambled for it. Her heart picked up speed and her palms felt immediately cold and clammy. It was three in the morning – there was only one reason Helen could be calling her right now. She answered on the third ring.
‘Darling, they’re taking her in for surgery – they found something, I don’t know . . .’ There was a gulp of air. ‘She’s going in for a triple bypass now, we haven’t been allowed to see her first.’ Max’s face seemed to drain of colour to match how Josie felt. ‘It’s not . . . They haven’t said it means anything terrible, just that it needs to be done but, well, it’s open-heart surgery and she’s been bumped up the waiting list and . . .’
‘I’m on my way.’