by Lisa Lace
Every time I go to say “I love you,” I hold it in. Everything is so perfect the way it is, I don’t want to say it too soon—no matter how deeply I might feel it.
“‘Plonker,’” Henry repeats with a grin. “God, I love it when you use British words.”
I strike a seductive pose, lean down over Henry, and whisper teasingly into his ear. “Plonker, prat, biscuit, cuppa.”
He growls playfully, grabs me by the waist, and flips me onto my back. He covers my mouth and throat with kisses while he tickles me, and I screech with laughter.
“Ssh!” Henry teases. “They’re all going to hear you having fun!” He tickles me until I’m howling with laughter. “Don’t! You’re not allowed to feel joy!”
I thump him playfully on the arm until he relents. “You joke, but they’re probably downstairs now, judging me.”
“You know, they’d really judge you if they heard you screaming my name.” He slips his hands between my legs.
I bite down on my lip. “Mmm. I’d love to, but I promised Olivia we’d be down by eleven for gifts.”
Henry makes a face. “There’s only one thing I want for Christmas this year.”
I kiss him deeply. “Tonight, I’ll scream your name until your father disowns you,” I promise. “Tonight.”
I pick up the tin of Quality Street I bought for Henry’s parents at the airport. “I don’t feel so bad about getting them a crap gift now.”
Next, I rummage around in the bags from yesterday’s shopping trip until I find the loud, multi-colored parrot-print chiffon scarf I bought for Olivia, which I’ve already wrapped.
Henry smiles. “Olivia will love that. She used to wear things like that all the time.”
“I know,” I say. “She told me your mother used to call them garish. She was telling me how she regretted throwing them all away, and how she wished she’d had more confidence to stand up to her when she first started dating Alexander. I think our little act of defiance may very well start a mutiny in the Southby estate.”
“Hurrah. Let’s bloody hope so.”
I grin as a pull out a matching parrot-print pocket square. “I couldn’t forget Alexander, of course.”
Henry laughs. “He’s going to hate it. It’s perfect.” He pulls me close and squeezes tight. “I love your sense of mischief.”
Just tell me you love me.
“Shall we go downstairs? The sooner we get through this Christmas, the sooner we can get to you screaming my name.”
“Let me get changed first.”
“All right.”
I get dressed in a Christmas-hat swing dress and even pull a novelty Santa hat onto my head. I’ve blown it with Henry’s parents already; might as well have fun.
We head downstairs to the library. The room is filled with shelves crowded with first editions, and leather wing chairs. In the center of the room, stands one of a total of eight of the mansion’s Christmas trees. It’s decorated sublimely in tasteful whites and golds.
The Southby family sits around like a still-screen taken from Great Expectations. Walter and Diane sit straight-backed and stern on an ivy-green leather chesterfield, while Alexander sits regally on a wing chair, with Olivia curled up at his feet on the ankle-high carpet.
Everyone exchanges their presents. The experience is almost overwhelming to witness. The extravagance is mind-blowing.
Alexander receives a platinum and diamond encrusted Parker pen, as well as an exceptionally expensive piece of artwork for his home. Olivia is gifted a gorgeous sapphire necklace. Henry receives a watch that I’ve seen retail for around $80,000. It’s a jaw-dropping display of wealth.
I receive a box of Quality Street smaller than the one I bought for Henry’s parents.
They offer a stilted apology. “I’m sorry for such a token gift,” Diane says, “but we didn’t know you’d be coming, you see. We don’t know you well enough to get you anything meaningful.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” I say, throwing Henry a cheeky grin.
Olivia squeals with delight when she opens her scarf, and then she squeals louder when Alexander opens his pocket square.
“Oh, Lissy! They’re beautiful!” she gushes. She turns to Alexander, slapping her hand on his knee with excitement. “Can we wear them to Jesus College’s garden party?”
Alexander pales. “We’ll see, darling. It depends what colors we’ll be wearing.”
“I have the perfect dress.”
Dinner is another excruciatingly formal affair, although it was quite something to see the Christmas pudding come out in flames. I watched with interest as Henry found a sixpence in his portion.
He grins at me. “It’s good luck.”
After a short and business-like Christmas dinner, everybody goes their separate ways. Walter has business to attend to, Diane is going to a charity event, and Alexander and Olivia are returning to their own home.
Henry and I take the opportunity to spend some time alone in the library. It’s peaceful in there without the other Southbys. Henry pours me some sherry into a tiny crystal glass, and we sit cross-legged together in front of the Christmas tree.
Henry followed suit when I put on my festive dress and defied his family’s tradition by wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with a Rudolph whose real light-up nose has been flashing all day. His skin is flushed from Christmas spirit and sherry, his blonde hair ruffled. His smile is wide and genuine.
The main lights are off in the library; we sit by the twinkle of the lights on the tree. It’s quiet and intimate. I love the way the lights flicker across Henry’s face as he smiles. I wish I could snapshot this very moment. For me, this will always be Christmas.
I have Henry’s gift on my lap, but he offers something to me first.
“I want you to have this,” he says, handing me the sixpence from the pudding. “It’s meant to bring good luck to whoever finds it, but I’ve already been lucky this year. I met you. Hopefully, it will bring you a little closer to your dreams.”
I clutch it to my chest with a heartfelt smile. It’s perfect.
I don’t want or expect anything more, but Henry hands me a second gift. This one is small and neatly wrapped in shiny blue paper and a white ribbon.
“Henry,” I say softly. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
I pull the ribbon away, then gently pull apart the paper. It doesn’t matter what’s inside; I’m already touched by Henry’s thoughtfulness. When I open the little box inside the paper, my heart melts.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. On a soft velour pad, the little jewelry box holds a stunning yet understated pendant necklace with a circle around a star in the middle, its points directed north, east, south, and west. It glitters in the dancing light of the tree.
“It’s gorgeous.”
Henry lifts the necklace from its box and moves behind me to fasten it around my neck. “It’s a compass rose,” he tells me. “You doubt yourself so often, but you always pull through. I want this to remind you that no matter how difficult the journey, you should trust that you’ll find your way. With strength and courage like yours, I know you always will.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I lean forward to kiss Henry passionately. “Thank you.”
“You like it?”
“It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received—the necklace and the message. I’ll never take it off.” I pick up the slim gift I brought for Henry. “My gift seems awful now.”
“Can I open it?”
Reluctantly, I hand it over.
Henry kisses me before he’s even opened it. Slowly, he pulls back the paper and then turns over the present in his hands. It’s a leather-bound work planner, embossed with his name in gold.
“I know lately you’ve been thinking more about what you want to do after your MBA,” I tell him. “I got this for you so you’re prepared when you make it big—because I know you will. You’ve got it in you to do whatever you wan
t, all on your own.”
He looks down at the soft leather and looks genuinely touched. “It means everything to me that you believe in me. I respect and admire you—to think I’m not a complete screw-up in your eyes means the world.”
I shuffle across the carpet to sit in between Henry’s legs. I wrap his arms around me and lift my face to look up at him. “I love you.”
Henry
After a drive back to the airport, a long flight and an Uber, we finally make it back to Melissa’s apartment.
“You want a coffee or something before you go back?” Melissa offers. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”
“A coffee sounds good.”
I follow Melissa into her building and up the stairs to her flat. Each step is heavy. Every muscle is exhausted from traveling and sitting in tight, uncomfortable seats with no legroom. As soon as I’ve said a proper goodbye to Melissa, I’m going back to my own place and sleeping for a week.
Between us, we lug our cases up the multiple flights, then finally arrive at Melissa’s front door. Once we’re there, she pauses a moment before opening it. She turns to me, lays both her palms on my chest and rests her forehead against me. Her long hair spills down in a wave that hides her face, but I feel her shoulders heaving with a sigh.
Finally, she looks up with an expression that’s bittersweet.
“I’ve loved these last ten days,” she tells me. “Even though it was awkward and uncomfortable—I loved it. Spending time with you this Christmas has been more than I could have wished for. I’m sorry it has to end.”
I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead. “Nothing’s ending. The holidays may be over, but we’re still us, and we have a year and a half of our MBAs left. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
She smiles, then opens the door. When she pushes it in, both our smiles drop off our faces.
The place is trashed. I step in and look around, unable to keep the horror off my face. The carpets have multiple burn marks and ash stains. The coffee table is overturned, the floor covered in empty junk food wrappers, bottles, and cans. The TV is broken, with a spiderweb splinter across its screen.
Stepping through the living room and into the adjoining open-plan kitchen, I see the damage isn’t limited to one part of the flat. Every cupboard door is open wide like someone has been searching through them. The drawers, oven door, and bread bin are thrown open, too. The floor is covered with piles of cutlery, tea towels, and a few broken glasses.
The bathroom looks like a crime scene. There are watered-down bloodstains on the ceramics in the bath and sink. Towels with pink marks on them lie in wet piles on the floor. There are syringes in the basin.
Melissa finishes inspecting the damage in the living room and appears behind me. Her hands fly to her mouth when she sees the state of the bathroom, and tears fill her eyes.
“What the fuck happened here?” I breathe.
I pull her to me, and she cries in my arms; Melissa, who is endlessly strong and endlessly brave has broken down at last. Her whole body shakes with sobs. Eventually, she looks up and around again. Her hands claw through her hair, and she bites down on her lip.
“I’ll never be able to afford to repair all this. We’re going to get evicted.” I hear the panic in her voice. “I’ll end up losing my place at Harvard. I’ll lose everything.”
I pull her back into my arms and stroke her hair. “No. That’s not going to happen. We’ll get this cleaned up. It looks worse than it is.”
Melissa slumps in defeat, and she gestures around helplessly. “He’s wrecked the place. There are needles in the sink. God knows what kind of things he’s been up to in here while I’ve been away. For all I know, he’s in a jail cell right now.”
Probably the best place for him. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“I knew I never should have left.”
I take Melissa firmly by her shoulders. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for every mistake he makes. Connor’s a grown man, and responsible for his own actions.”
“He’s only nineteen.”
“So he doesn’t know right from wrong? Melissa, he’s old enough and wise enough to know better than to trash his own home and bite the hand that feeds him. This—” I gesture around, “—is not acceptable.”
Melissa goes slowly back into the living room and sinks down onto the sofa. She takes a heavy breath and lets it out slowly. “I know.”
“You can’t keep letting him treat you—and your home—like this.”
“I know.”
“He’ll single-handedly destroy everything you’ve worked for.”
Melissa bows down and buries her face in her hands. When she looks up, her face is tear-streaked, and her voice trembles. “What am I supposed to do? Without me, he’d be on the streets.”
“If he keeps acting out like this, he’ll drag you down with him.” I kneel in front of Melissa and stroke her knee comfortingly. “I know how loyal you are. You want to do everything in your power to save him, but, even if you give everything to him, it’ll do nothing at all if he doesn’t want to change.”
“He’s grieving.”
“So are you.”
Melissa blinks and tears roll down her cheeks. She shakes her head slowly. “I promised my mom I’d always look after him.”
I hold back my anger at Connor for making her feel like this and focus on comforting Melissa. “And who’s meant to look after you? I never knew your mom, but bet she loved you and Connor equally, and she probably wouldn’t want to see you hurting, either.”
“If I give up on him, he’ll have nobody else to turn to.”
“I know you’d never give up on him, and I’d never suggest you should. But maybe he should move out, at least.”
“Where would he go?”
I falter. I have no idea. “A shelter.”
“A shelter?” Melissa’s voice is thick with horror. “I can’t do that to my own brother!”
“Look what he’s doing to you!”
“He doesn’t know any better!”
I lower my voice so it’s gentler. I meet Melissa’s eyes with a soft, understanding gaze. “Of course, he knows. Or if he doesn’t, it’s time he learned that what he’s doing is not okay.”
“You think I’m naïve.” Lissy says the words with sadness and self-contempt.
“I think you’re many things—loyal, devoted, compassionate, brave, strong. But when it comes to Connor, there are things you refuse to see.” I bow my own head, shaking it sadly. “I only want to protect you.”
Her hand closes over mine. “I know. But it’s not that easy.”
“I know.”
I don’t want to push Melissa too far, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings, so I say no more. Instead, I stand up, look around, and roll up my sleeves. “Have you got any trash bags?”
“There’s a roll under the sink.”
I retrieve the bags, tear one off, and immediately start picking up the rubbish from around the flat. Melissa takes another moment to gather herself, then slowly rises to her feet as well, and picks up a vacuum.
We’re both exhausted from traveling, but I can’t let Melissa spend the night in a trashed flat, and I can’t let her face all this chaos alone.
Between us, we pick up all the garbage, clear the mess off the floor, sweep up all the broken glassware, tidy the kitchen, and bleach the bathroom.
By the time we’re done, it doesn’t look so bad. There are a few repairs left to be done, like finding a way to patch up the burns in the carpet and replacing the TV, but enough has been done. If the landlord stopped by, they probably wouldn’t slam down an eviction notice.
Melissa sinks back down onto the sofa when we’re done and offers me a weak but grateful smile. “Thanks for helping. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I couldn’t let you do it on your own. Besides, I don’t like the idea of you being here alone when Connor comes back.”
“He would never hurt me.”<
br />
“People do all kinds of things when they’re under the influence.”
“Connor’s not like that.”
“Really? Because there was an awful lot of blood in the bathroom, and those needles make me think he’s doing something a lot harder than pot.”
As I say it, Melissa wriggles in her seat and reaches under her to pull out a little plastic baggy that’s filled with small, white pills. She tosses it away like it’s about to bite her. Her eyes fill with tears again. “I don’t even know what those are.”
I pick them up and examine them closely. “Could be Molly. Some kind of party drug. Opiates, maybe?”
“God knows.”
I shake my head slowly. “I know Connor’s your brother, but I could kill him for what he’s putting you through. Every time you cover for him when he pulls shit like this, you risk your own livelihood—and you’ve earned everything you have.”
Melissa holds up her hand softly. “Please, Henry, I really don’t need a lecture right now.”
“Something’s got to give, Lissy.”
“You think I should make him move out?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, but, yes. I want you to be safe. I want you to have the peace and security you need to follow your own dreams. Connor’s the only thing holding you back from achieving truly great things.”
She looks across at the broken TV with a distant gaze. “It’s not just about me, though, is it?”
“It also can’t be all about him. You can support him from a distance.”
“When he’s in a shelter, you mean?”
I take her hands in mine. “There are no easy options. I know that. But you’ll be in a better position to help him down the line if you set the foundations for your own life now. He needs a wake-up call, even if it seems harsh and disloyal. It’s not. Not if it makes him realize he’s headed down the wrong path.
“You know I’ll help you find another place for him to go. There must be programs, charities, networks. I don’t know. There have to be better options than this. He’s into some illegal stuff, Lissy, and you don’t want to get caught up in the middle of it. Connor’s hanging around some dangerous people these days, and I don’t want them to hurt you.”
