by Matt Shaw
I walked over to the Christmas Tree and pulled the presents from underneath - careful to leave her gifts where they were.
“I thought we’d let the kids open their presents,” I said. “Figured you and I could exchange gifts after they’re in bed.” I don’t need them watching mummy’s face as she unwraps the body-parts of Leon, her lover. Not entirely sure they’d ever recover from that. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - of all the things I’ve ruined in this relationship... my kids is one of the only things I’m desperate to save from breaking.
“You got me a present? I don’t suppose it’s divorce papers?” she said.
“No... thought I’d save them for your birthday,” I spat back.
I pushed two piles of presents across the floor. One pile towards Ryan and the other pile towards Sarah. They both jumped up from the settee and reached for their piles.
“Thank you!” they shouted.
I smiled. Love the sound of them happy. Makes all the trouble, of being a parent, worthwhile. Surprisingly my wife was smiling too. Pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since she walked in through the front door. Forget about it. Not important. Enjoy the children. The children who had already started ripping into their gifts.
I stood up, quickly, and ran through to the kitchen. Nearly forgot to put the potatoes in. At least, by the time they’re done with opening their gifts - dinner should nearly be ready!
By the time I came back into the room - the kids had almost finished unwrapping their presents. Same every year; it never takes them long to get the paper off the parcels. Half the time, I think they’re more excited about the ripping the paper off than what’s actually hidden within!
“So what did you get from mummy?” I asked.
“You know!” said Ryan - a cheeky, happy grin on his face.
“I said it was from both of us,” said my wife. “I got them a bike each...”
She said it was from both of us? I’m surprised. Pleasantly so. I would have thought she would have used Christmas as a time to try and score points in the oncoming games of ‘who’s the best parent’ we’re undoubtedly about to play.
I didn’t know what else to say other than, “Thank you.”
I smiled at her and she smiled back.
Maybe she isn’t that bad.
You decide what happens next!
Offer her something dry to wear
Tell the kids the presents are also from their mother
Go to the kitchen to check on dinner
“Mummy and daddy have some things they need to sort out. You two just sit there and be quiet! Not everything is about you!” I said. I tried to say it in a calm tone of voice. I didn’t mean it to come across so nasty and cold but, judging from their reactions, I presume that’s exactly how it came across.
Fuck.
My wife just stood there, the same self-satisfied smile on her face.
She won.
“It’s okay, kids, remember what I told you in the car....” she said - comforting them.
What she said in the car? What?
“What have you been telling them?” I demanded.
“What? Nothing.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, what the fuck have you been saying to them about me?” I walked up to my wife until we were mere inches apart.
“I said that - no matter what - I still love them.”
“You poisonous little bitch,” I hissed.
Sarah was crying behind me but I didn’t care. Ryan was just sat on the settee, looking down at his feet - scared.
“Come on, kids - we’re leaving...”
Sarah and Ryan moved behind me as they got up to their feet. I span around to them, “Don’t you fucking move! Mummy and daddy are just going to have a little conversation and then we’re all going to enjoy our Christmas together.... okay?!” The ‘okay’ part of the sentence wasn’t a question. More of a demand.
“No! We’re not staying here! You’re scaring the kids and you’re scaring me!” she pushed past me and took Sarah and Ryan by their hands. “I suggest you take a good long look at yourself in the mirror. You’re not well...”
I blocked her path to the door, “You’re not leaving with my kids.”
“Get out of my way or I’ll phone the police.”
Good luck with that. I only have the old-style telephone - after she took the decent one we had - the kind of phone you have to spin the dial on the base unit to input the numbers you want for the number. By the time she gets to the second ‘9’ she’d be dead.
“MOVE!” she screamed.
I reacted by shoving her backwards, making her fall to the floor.... making her drag the kids down with her. Shit. Sarah screamed out in pain - her arm bending the wrong way. Even Ryan started to cry now whereas before he was trying to be so brave. Sarah’s scream and the tears of Ryan brought me crashing back down to reality with a bump.
“Shit! I’m sorry!” I helped the children up but, when she got up herself, my wife just snatched them away from me. Her face.... so much anger in her eyes. So much hatred.
“Get the fuck out of the way!” she hissed.
I stepped to one side. I wanted to give the kids the best Christmas they’ve ever had and, instead, I’ve given them one of the worst. I desperately tried to think of something to say to make it all better but it was too late. The wife had put her coat on and dragged the children from the house. The front door slammed behind her.
The rest of his Christmas was spent alone. He frequently called to see the children but they were too scared to visit him. From the other end of the phone-line, his wife taunted him - telling him it wouldn’t be worth pursuing custody now. He had lost them forever.
Every cloud has a silver-lining. His wife’s lover stopped returning all of her calls. When she went around his house, he never answered the door to her. She never knew what she had done to upset him so much that he wouldn’t even speak to her... She never knew, no one did, he was wrapped up - in her husband’s attic - ready for next year.
~ FIN
I turned to the kids, “Don’t forget to thank your mother for these presents too.... she helped choose them!” I lied.
She didn’t help choose them. She didn’t even put any money towards them but, considering I didn’t help with the bikes, it felt as though it was the right thing to say. Both the kids thanked her in unison and my wife smiled wider than she had before.
Given the rocky start to the day, and how she was when she first walked through the door - it honestly looks as though we’re going to pull this off and give them a good Christmas.
I reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a camera I had dug out from the bottom of the drawers, the evening before. Turning it on I looked at my wife and the children, through the view-finder, and snapped a picture. Hopefully the first of many pictures for the day.
We might not be a couple anymore but - at least I can keep some happy memories and the pictures will be a good reminder for the kids, in years to come, that despite their mum and dad’s differences - we tried our best for them.
A quick check of the picture - looks good.
“How is it?” asked my wife. I showed her and she smiled. “Cute. Can you email me a copy?”
“I’d need to buy a new computer,” I laughed. Not sure why I laughed - when she took the computer, I was fuming. More angry about that than anything else she took from the house.
Look at us, playing happy families. I’d almost forgotten what was in the oven. Almost forgotten my plan to put an end to our bickering once and for all. Teach her I’m not one to be messed around with - not when it comes to potentially stopping me from seeing my kids. Stopping me from seeing them or giving them a new dad. Fuck that. They’re mine and always will be. I won’t allow her to change that.
I felt myself get angry again but did my best to hide it. I’m so close to giving the kids a good Christmas, it would be a shame to ruin it now.
“Can I get you a drink?”
I asked.
“Tea would be lovely,” said my wife.
“You kids want some juice?”
“Yeaaaaaaah....” they shouted in unison as they fought with various boxes - desperate to get in so they could play with their favoured presents. Ryan’s was an Action Man and Sarah’s was a doll.
“Yes, please!” my wife corrected them.
“Yes, please!” their little voices in unison once more.
I smiled at them and stood up, before I walked through to the kitchen. Two juices and a cup of tea. I’ll make the first one and then she can just help herself. I’m here for the kids and not to be her slave for the day. I want their Christmas to be the best. Couldn’t give a toss about hers. To think, I nearly got suckered in by her - again - just because she said I helped choose the kids’ bikes for them. I’m such a fucking mug.
This whole damned position is because I’m a mug. I honestly believed we were going to get back together. Just a little time out - a break to do us some good... and then she ruined it and found him. Whore.
“Want to help mummy open her presents?” I heard my wife whisper to the kids, in the other room.
NO!
By the time he managed to get back to the lounge - the screams of his wife and children were already echoing through the room. Within seconds the kids had excitedly torn the wrapping paper from one of the longer parcels, labelled to his wife. A severed arm belonging to Leon Tope - gold watch still on his grey wrist.
The police were on the scene within fifteen minutes to make their arrest. Despite the best efforts of the numerous therapists, the children never got over what they saw - their innocence was forever destroyed. His wife, meanwhile, went onto marry a younger man named Harry. The children, they went on to have, were perfect.
~ FIN
“Did you want me to see if I have a spare top or something?” I asked her. She’d done something nice for me and now I was feeling a little guilty about her having to sit there soaked through to the skin. “I mean, I might have a tee shirt, or something, you can borrow - I know my style isn’t the best but... has to be better than sitting there shivering.”
“Yes, please,” said my wife.
“Gimme a second, I’ll see what I can find.”
I stood up and walked up the stairs, towards what used to be our bedroom. I have to say - this whole situation was weird. Before she got here I felt sure of how the day was going to end. I was even excited about it. Now.... now... I’m not sure. Everything feels confusing - being in the same room with them all... Especially given the fact she’s being nice. It feels as though it did before she walked out. It feels.... nice.
In the bedroom, I went through the various drawers and cupboards - trying to find anything that was clean. Since she left... laundry wasn’t done as much as it should have been. To be honest, hardly anything was done - other than watching her, from a distance and pining for what was lost.
Come on, pull yourself together. One act of kindness, on her part, doesn’t make up for the hurt she’s caused me. It means nothing. She didn’t do it for me, she did it for the kids. She wants them to have a good Christmas as much as I do even if that meant they believed mummy and daddy chose their bikes for them.... Nothing has changed. Stick with the plan. She’s caused me too much pain, over the months, to get off that lightly.
I found a red jumper in the last drawer I looked in. She certainly won’t be winning any fashion prizes but at least she’ll be dry.
“Did you find anything?” she asked.
I jumped at the sound of her voice.
“Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to make you jump....”
“Here,” I threw her the red top.
“Nice,” she said. “Didn’t my mum buy this for you one year?”
“Proof she hated me,” I laughed.
“She didn’t hate you...”
“But she does now...”
My wife didn’t say anything. She just lifted her top up and dropped it to the floor. Stood there in her bra - I forgot, in my hatred, how pretty she actually was. Even standing there, like a drowned rat, she looked like the woman I fell in love with all those years ago. A pang of regret, at how we’ve ended up, shot through me.
She went to remove her soaking black bra and stopped, “Do you mind?”
You decide what happens next!
He kisses his wife passionately
He doesn’t move and just watches her
He panics at what he’s done
I got up and walked through to the kitchen. My mind is racing in so many directions, I just had to get out of the room. A little space just to get my head around what’s happening and where the day is heading.
“Are you okay?”
I turned around, my wife had followed me.
“I’m good, this is just harder than what I thought it was going to be,” I said.
“You thought it was going to be easy?”
I shook my head.
Truth be told, I had hoped it was going to be easy. Well - easy for the kids and I anyway. I wasn’t very concerned about how she was going to cope.
She changed the subject, “Do you need a hand with anything?”
I looked to the oven, “No, I think everything’s good. I’ll check the potatoes in a bit and then we’re almost ready... Yorkshire puddings won’t take long in the oven as they’re ready-made ones...”
“Cheat!” she teased. “I thought you’d at least try and make them from scratch!”
“No point,” I said. I reached over to the cupboard and pulled some juice down from the top shelf. “I take it the kids still like juice...”
“It hasn’t been that long since you last made them a drink!” she said. The humour gone from her tone.
“Feels like it,” I mumbled as I prepared two drinks. I turned the subject away from anything which may cause conflict between the two of us - those sorts of conversations can wait until the kids are in bed. “Did you want a drink?”
“Tea, please...”
“Milk, one sugar?”
“Yes, please...”
“Coming up.”
I flicked the switch on the kettle.
“Be nice to get something warm inside of me - I’m freezing,” she said.
She perched herself on the kitchen side and patiently waited for the kettle to boil. She even put her dripping sleeve over the kettle’s steam in the vague hope of helping it to dry off.
You decide what happens next!
He offers her some dry clothes to put on
He ignores her and checks the potatoes
Stood there in just her black bra... water dripping off her skin.... her wet hair.... she looked so sexy. I remember that’s what I loved about her - how she used to always look so fucking sexy with the minimum of effort.
“Do you mind?” she repeated.
I know she wanted me to leave the room so she could change but.... I couldn’t. Seeing her, stood there like this... it brought back so many happy memories. Clouding my judgement and making me forget where we were today. I crossed the room to her and grabbed her. Before she could resist, if she’d even try, I pulled her close and kissed her passionately. One hand on her arse cheek, the other gently on the back of her head and I kept her pulled in close to me. It wasn’t long before her tongue was exploring mine and I felt myself harden in anticipation.
“I’ve missed you,” I said after a few more seconds of kissing.
I didn’t care what I had done, before today. I still had a chance to put everything right between us. Still had a chance to bring the family together.... This morning... before this morning, even, I thought I hated her. They say you only ‘hate’ someone because you ‘love’ them so much. Until now, I never understood that. I didn’t hate her. I’ve never hated her. I was just bitter. Bitter at what she’d done.
“Please come home,” I pulled her in for another kiss but she pulled away. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” she said as she wiped her mouth. “
I’m sorry.... we can’t do this...”
