When We Are Old (If We Were... Book 2)

by Anna Bloom

Her cheeks coloured. “No. He just didn’t want to spend time doing housework. He wasn’t as domesticated as you.”

  “Aye, I’m highly domesticated. You’ll never find another specimen like me.”

  “Just as well I’m not looking for one.” She reached up onto her tiptoes and kissed gently around my mouth. God, I wanted to pick her up and have her legs wound tight around my waist. Maybe I should take up Mam’s offer of an overnight babysitting gig.

  No. This was supposed to be about us being together. I clutched her closer, scared that I would blink, and this would all disappear.

  “What are you thinking?” Her grey gaze rested on my face.

  “Whether this is a dream and you are really here.”

  She smiled slow, the curve of her lips I wanted to kiss the fuck out of edged into view. “I’m here.”

  “Good.” I kissed her again, firmer this time, tilting her head back with a pull of my fingers on her hair.

  “Ugh. That’s disgusting.” Hannah stomped into the room.

  “We know. You’ve told us.” Ronnie grinned against my mouth.

  “Well, can you stop?”

  I relaxed my hold on Ronnie and turned to Hannah. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. Ronnie tensed beside me, but I wasn’t scared of a stroppy fourteen-year-old yet.

  “There was no hot water.”

  “I told you, yesterday, the boiler is on the blink. If you come and tell me I can help you fix it.” I gestured to the boiler in the cupboard. “Would you like me to show you now?”

  “Ugghhhh. No.” She threw herself down in the chair and then lowered her head onto the table. Ronnie started to back away, but I caught her hand and pulled her to my side.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

  Hannah lifted her head, her hair all over the place, blinking through strands of blonde and brown. “Nothing.”

  Head back down.

  Ronnie shook her head at me just as Ewan came back in through the kitchen. “Oh it’s the toilet hogger. Dad should start charging you extra if it takes you that long to poo.”

  Hannah raised her head again and Ronnie physically cringed at my side. “Uggggh. I was not pooing. I was trying to shower in this stupid house without hot water.”

  Whoa.

  Seriously where did this come from? She was fine yesterday.

  “Hannah.” Ronnie’s tone held a note of warning, but she just ignored her mother.

  “No, seriously, it’s ridiculous.” She turned, her cheeks splotched with red to glare at Ronnie and me. “We should stay in a hotel; it would be better there.”

  “Good.” Ewan retorted. “Then I’d be able to wee when I want and wouldn’t have to sleep with Jack to make room for you.”

  “Hey, hey, hold on here.” I laid a hand on the table. “It’s just some adjusting, okay? None of us are used to sharing, and the house isn’t that big.” I turned to Ewan. “But you love this house, mate. You helped me choose it.”

  “Yeah.” He glared at the floor. “When it was just us living here.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and it took everything in me not to say something. Until I couldn’t not.

  “Hannah. Do you mind not being rude, please?”

  She smacked her hands down on the table. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  Hannah jabbed her finger at Ronnie. “She’s always rolling her eyes.”

  I had to bite down on my lower lip as the need to laugh crept up my throat. “Maybe so, but it’s disrespectful for you to do it. And also, she’s not a she, she’s your mum.” I trod on a delicate path, I knew that, but I couldn’t have her talking to Ronnie like that in my own house, mainly because I didn’t want Ewan and Jack learning that shit.

  “Uggghhhh.” She put her head back down on the kitchen table while I turned to Ronnie, my hands held in a helpless gesture, palms to the ceiling praying for some form of divine intervention.

  “PMT,” she mouthed.

  Oh good lord, crap no. I don’t need to be hearing those kinds of things. Shit, was that why she was in the bathroom so long?

  I stood with my mouth hanging open, unsure how to proceed. My major concern was that my head would get ripped off if I spoke to her again.

  Ronnie slid her arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze. “Sorry you had to pee outside, Ewan.”

  Ewan shrugged and eyeballed the dustpan and brush. “What happened?” he asked.

  “That dog was on the table.”

  Ewan’s lips curved into a smile. “That drives Mam mad.”

  I stiffened at the mention of Julie. We still hadn’t heard from her. I could only assume she’d gone to France to her family’s place for Easter—nice for the heads up. I pushed her from my thoughts.

  “Did you tell him off?” I asked Ronnie, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear and marvelling again at the fact she was here.

  “Yes, once I got him down. He’s the size of a horse, Matthew, he shouldn’t be on the kitchen table.” Her eyes shone. “Seriously, why didn’t you take him for behaviour lessons? He’s like a mutant out-of-control toddler.”

  Talk of the devil, the blonde maned demon strode in, sniffing the air, working out what he could steal next. “It wasn’t the best time to be dog training.”

  I watched Ronnie mull on this and then she must have realised what I meant as realisation dawned in her eyes. It hadn’t been a suitable time for dog training because the stupid four-legged table hoover had been bought as a ‘don’t divorce me bribe’. There had been little chance I was going to attend Thursday evening doggy lessons with Julie at that point.

  “Dad!!!” Jack ran into the kitchen, stark naked. “All the towels are wet on the bathroom floor. I was trying to wash at the sink like you showed me.”

  Ronnie and I both turned to Hannah, but she didn’t bother lifting her head from the table and just groaned an “Uuughh,” instead.

  Later the boys were shouting at the TV in the front room and Hannah was upstairs somewhere. “Is she always like that?” I asked as I reeled Ronnie into my arms. She snuggled straight in and I smoothed her with my palm. We’d kept things chilled for the first time since they’d arrived and announced their impromptu holiday. No sight-seeing or being talked into a 'Carling Event'.

  Today felt like the first day of forever.

  Seeing Ronnie in the kitchen, her hair shoved up in a short and messy ponytail, her feet just in socks and her face scrubbed clean and shining with laughter, was close to perfection. Add to that the fact she had on a shirt that gaped every time she bent over to do something and it was near on close to heaven.

  Excluding Hannah and Ewan's early morning war over the bathroom, it seemed to be going well. I never wanted it to end, but at the same time I knew that at the weekend Ronnie would have to take Hannah back to London.

  Ronnie sighed into my kiss. I loved the fact every touch of our mouths began with a slow exhalation from hers, like our kiss was the only conversation she was interested in having.

  “No. But it’s just hormones when she’s like that.”

  I kissed up her neck, tugging on what was left of her ponytail. “How do you know?”

  “What I’ve learned, and I’m not expert in these things, is the more noise she makes, the more groaning and ‘Ugghhhhing’,” Ronnie perfected an impression of Hannah’s morning eloquence, “the more hormonal it is.”

  I studied Ronnie, searching her face for more. “You told me the other week she’s like you.”

  Ronnie’s gaze dropped. “She is. It’s the silence you have to watch for. When she’s silent, it means there’s a storm of the unspoken inside of her.”

  I nodded, distracted for a moment by my thoughts, my fingers running over the skin of her cheek, dancing around her ear. “I know about storms.”

  Her lips turned down. “I know, now.” She flickered on a smile. “Are you feeling stormy now?”

  I laughed, chuckling and pulling her against me. “Stormy
or Stormzy?”

  Ronnie chuckled against me, her chest pushing against my sternum. I wanted to pick her up and devour her. “Is that a popular culture reference? BBC Radio 4 only in our house.”

  “Stay here with me.” The words slipped out and once they were free, I couldn’t disguise them with a cough or a sneeze. Their intensity carved engravings of doves and rainbows around us as we stood in the kitchen. I pressed my lips into the top of her head.

  “What?” Her hands smoothed against my chest, pushing me back. “What do you mean?”

  “You and Hannah, stay here, with me.” My heart thudded with the pound of a thousand hooves crashing into my chest.

  It was like asking for the biggest prize with doing very little effort to deserve it.

  “Matthew.” My name gasped from her lips.

  “Ronnie,” I quirked a smile, trying to switch the sun onto the darkness that spread with her silence, “Don’t make this awkward. I’ve just asked you to live with me.”

  “I’m not a 'me' though am I? I’m a 'we', and the other half of my package comes with foot stamping and temper tantrums.”

  Jack barrelled into the kitchen. “Dad, I need a poo, can you wipe?”

  Ronnie sagged against me with a gentle laugh that melted my bones to mush.

  “Bud, I thought we talked about the wiping. You need to try.” I shook my head, burying my face into Ronnie’s hair.

  She shook against me, holding in her laugh. “Don’t worry, Hannah didn’t wipe until she was nearly eight.”

  “I heard that.” Hannah hollered down the stairs.

  Wow. She had good hearing. That put paid to my evening plans for Ronnie, damn it.

  “Jack, go. I’ll be there in a moment. I’m in a very important conversation that doesn’t involve arse-wiping.”

  Ronnie snorted and as he left I caught her chin in my fingers and lifted her face to mine. “Too many nights I’ve wanted you here with me, Veronica Childs. Now you are here, forgive me if I’m greedy and want them all.”

  Her lips parted slightly, her expression turning blank as she absorbed my testament. “Let’s see how you feel by next weekend.”

  “Nothing will change my mind. I promise.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nope. Nothing.”

  The stairs thundered just as Jack shouted from the bathroom.

  “Ugh. Why don’t they close the door when they are on the loo?” Hannah slouched into the kitchen like a stoned sloth.

  “Hannah.” Ronnie extricated herself from my grasp, but I clasped her hand, so we were still in some way entangled. “It’s not for us to say. Just because we do things one way doesn’t mean any other way is wrong.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Did your mother teach you that?”

  Ronnie flushed. “Well no.”

  “Thought not.” Grabbing her tight I squeezed the life out of her—literally. She gasped for breath and tried to wiggle free, giggling.

  “Muu-uu-uum. I need to go to the shops.” Hannah studied the ceiling.

  “What for?” I asked, playing with Ronnie and not letting her slip out of my hold. Her struggle against my grip was probably more stimulating that it needed to be, and I turned slightly, less any evidence showed through my jeans.

  “Nothing.”

  “We’ve got everything here. We did that big shop yesterday,” I said.

  Hannah’s cheeks flushed.

  “Oh. Okay.” Ronnie tiptoed and kissed my cheek. “I’ll have to pop to the shops with her.”

  “What? Why?”

  Had I missed a large chunk of conversation?

  “Dad!”

  “Oh for fu—dge’s sake.”

  Hannah smirked, the first crack in her face of stone I’d seen all day. “Come on, Mum. Ange texted me. I said we could meet her while she’s on lunch.”

  Ronnie’s shoulders fell. “Hannah, that wasn’t for you to arrange. We're here spending time with Matthew and the boys.”

  “I know. But she works ten minutes away and I do need to get…”

  I shrugged, still at a loss. Until it clicked. “Oh, you need Tampax. Why didn’t you just say?”

  “Ugh. You’re such a man.” Hannah growled. And I mean, she actually growled while clenching her hands into fists and stamping her feet.

  “Yes. Last time I checked.” I caught Ronnie’s gaze, seeing her lips curve. “But I’m not a caveman. I do know what Tampax is.”

  Hannah’s face was the colour of a tomato in August.

  “Go on. Do you want to take the car?”

  “Would you mind?” Ronnie’s pulled at her ponytail and shook her blonde strands out before retying it. “We won’t be long.”

  I pulled her in, unable to resist. “Don’t be. We’ve got date night tonight.”

  “Date night?” She arched a fair eyebrow.

  “Yep. I thought we could get all the kids to bed and then you and me could have a nice dinner. I’ll cook.”

  “And when did you come up with this plan?”

  “About thirty seconds ago.”

  “And people say romance is dead.” Hannah snorted with her comment, but I couldn’t, rather wouldn’t, let her ruin what we had here. She could bring it all, every teenage strop in the history of teenagers, and I would take it. This all meant too much for it to be ruined by hormonal melodramatics.

  “It’s alive and kicking in this house.” I pressed a firm kiss to Ronnie’s delicious mouth and then pulled the keys out of the pocket of my jeans.

  “Daaaaaad! I’m bored.”

  “Oh shit. I forgot he was on the bog.”

  I turned my back and ran up the stairs, the sound of Ronnie’s laughter flowing behind me.

  Right. How could I organise a date in about an hour?

  Latte and Friends

  Ronnie

  “Oh my god. All these damn years and here you are in the wilds.” Ange called loud enough that half the cafe turned to watch us enter.

  “It’s a shopping centre, Ange. Not the bloody Highlands.”

  She pursed her lips. “Still. You could have called.”

  I pulled out a chair for Hannah's backpack that now contained a giant bag of cosmetics I’d been conned into while getting Tampax. “We’ve hardly had any time. Matthew’s family is…” I trailed off.

  “Huge.” Hannah added. “Loud. Annoying. Intense.”

  “Enthusiastic.”

  Ange’s gaze narrowed. “They are going to suffocate the life out of you, Ronnie.”

  I snorted and plopped myself down in the chair opposite hers while I waited for the barista to tell me the latte and hot chocolate were ready. Hannah had wanted a coffee—fat chance if Matthew and I were having a date night. My mind went to a happy place involving a crisp and bright fire, bottles of wine, and us, naked and writhing on the floor.

  Teenage Porno Ronnie wanted to run the date

  Oooh. Hot. I shrugged out of my coat and fanned at my face with a cardboard leaflet advertising the cakes on offer.

  “Menopause?” Ange smirked and took a sip of her espresso.

  “No! How rude. I’m the same age as you.”

  “But look how wornout you are by life. I have to say you’re looking exhausted right now. You and Matthew not sleeping well?” Her lips curled into a devilish smile.

  “Fine, thank you.” I kicked her in the shin.

  Laughing, she settled back. “So how is domestic bliss? My goddaughter told me you are here for a week. Thanks for the heads up.”

  “I’m sorry, Ange.” The barista waved at me and I welcomed the chance to break the tension and get the cups. I spent some time picking up sugar sachets. “It was all a bit last minute. Fred asked for more responsibility at work, and it was the school holiday, so it just seemed the right time to introduce Hannah to Matthew’s family.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “What?” I asked. “You’ve liked seeing them, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. I’m ready to go home though. Ana wants to go shopping. There’s this c
rop top in New Look she wants to get before they sell out. She says it looks like something Billie Eilish would wear, so we could team it with our chunky Fila.”

  “I don't understand half of what you're saying.”

  Hannah lifted her foot and pointed to her trainers. “Fila.”

  “Oh, yeah. And what else.”

  Another eye roll. “I can’t be bothered to repeat myself.”

  That’s my line. She stole it.

  “I know what you mean, darling.” Ange patted her hand. “Billie Eilish sings that naughty song about blow jobs.”

  “Angela!” I nearly dropped my cup of coffee everywhere.

  Hannah’s lips tightened but then she turned wide and innocent eyes in my direction. “What’s a blow job, Mum?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. And I don’t want to talk about it over coffee.” I gulped down my hot drink—actually not that hot. “Right, come on, we’ve got to get back.”

  “Ah, but we’ve only just seen Ange.”

  “If you hadn’t spent so long deciding your foundation tone, we would have been here quicker.

  Ange waved us away. “Don’t worry, I’ve to get back to work.”

  “It’s four?” I shot her a glance, but she grinned.

  “Didn’t say I was going to be working.”

  Shaking my head, I stood from the chair. Things were awkward and I hated it, but at the same time I couldn’t ignore the vast stretch of years that could have been so different. “Ange.” She stood and we stared at one another. I didn’t want to be the one healing bridges, my loyalty to Matthew and what she’d done was too strong, but when I looked at her, she was still my best friend. The one who’d stood by my side while I was in labour, while I dealt with the death of my husband.

  “I know, I know; you’ve got to run back to your boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend? Aren’t we too old for labels like that?”

  Hannah rustled her backpack containing fifty pounds worth of bribery.

  Ange shrugged, but I could have sworn I saw her eyes glisten with tears. “Just remember who’s the best bridesmaid you know.”

  “Oh God, no. Don’t be silly. We are a long way from that.”

  Were we though…? He’d just asked me to stay forever. I couldn’t lie. It wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard, even if it seemed impossible. The prospect of waking up every day with Matthew set my soul on fire.