by Lacey London
Feeling rather pleased with myself at being the baby of the group, I fold my arms and sit back in my seat. Due to the huge budget cuts this year, the Suave Christmas party is being held right here in the office. Personally, I think plying people with alcohol and festive cheer around thousands of pounds worth of office equipment is a total recipe for disaster, but what do I know? With Marc and Gina flying out to Australia on the 22nd, the party is being held on the 20th. Five days after Lianna’s birthday and five days before Christmas day. Perfect timing. Now, if I could only get my head around our parents coming to stay and transform into Nigella Lawson to cook a traditional Christmas dinner for seven hungry people, everything would be A-OK.
As Marc fills Oliver in on his big Australian adventure, I try not to feel envious at him jetting off to the sun. Passport disaster aside, it sounds like they are going to have a fantastic time. It wasn’t that long ago that Oliver was pushing for us to spend this Christmas across the pond too. Being a Texas boy at heart, Oliver is used to sipping a beer in his cowboy boots and toasting marshmallows on an open fire. A little different to cradling a glass of Bailey’s and a classic mince pie. It’s not very often that the cultural differences come between us. Aside from the odd argument over him drenching my morning bacon in maple syrup, we actually get along really well.
Leaving the boys to talk, I slip out of Marc’s office in search of Lianna. The entire floor is buzzing with festive cheer. Even the grumpy mail man is smiling. Noticing that her desk is empty, I am about to return to Marc’s office when I spot her pushing her way through the sea of desks with a mountain of magazines. I can tell by her red nose that it must be below freezing outside. Not surprising considering that it is almost Christmas. A quick glance out of the window confirms my suspicions. It’s not even 3.30pm and already the sky is a magical shade of black. It’s hard to believe that in six short months we will be basking in sunshine way into the evening. Shaking my head to erase the image of gin cocktails and sunburnt shoulders, I turn my attention to my best friend.
‘What have you got there?’ I ask, snatching a magazine from the top of the pile. ‘More interior design ideas?’
She nods in response and drops the huge pile onto the desk before collapsing into a chair. ‘It is manic out there!’ Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she listens carefully as I fill her in on Marc’s Christmas party idea. ‘Really?’ She crinkles up her nose in confusion. ‘What if something gets damaged?’
‘That’s exactly what I said.’ Laughing, I perch on the edge of her desk and flip open Home Design UK. ‘So, do you feel better about the big 3-0 now that you’ve got yourself a place sorted?’
‘I really do.’ She replies, fiddling with her Santa Clause earrings. ‘I’m just hoping that I can get moved in before my birthday.’
‘I’m sure that’s doable.’ I murmur, reminding myself that we will soon have an extra four pairs of hands to help.
‘Are you ready for the in-laws arriving?’ Lianna asks, as if reading my mind.
‘Pretty much.’ I respond, very aware that I haven’t lifted a finger yet.
Every night I have promised myself that I will make a start on the guest bedrooms, but somehow I have found myself in a food coma on the sofa surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers. I blame Christmas. Christmas and its delicious foods and festive cheer. Promising myself that I will deal with it tonight, I slide off the desk.
‘Just so you know, I’m staying out tonight.’ Lianna offers me a small smile and flicks on her computer.
‘Oh, God!’ I let out a tired sigh and shoot her a disappointed look. ‘I thought we had dealt with the whole staying out thing?’
‘Not like that.’ She fires back angrily. ‘I’m staying at my new place tonight.’
‘Oh... but you haven’t moved anything in yet, have you?’ I mumble, feeling a little bad for assuming the worst.
‘That’s kind of the whole point. Just me, my sleeping bag and a takeout pizza.’ Blushing slightly, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I’m christening my new pad Lianna style.’
Laughing at her craziness, I shake my head and make my way back to my desk. She might be a little bit weird, but Li will always be my best friend. My best friend who drinks too much, swears a lot and has very questionable morals. Catching her eye, I flash her a wink and smile widely. Lianna’s back and I for one couldn’t be happier about it.
Do you know what I got for Christmas last year?
Fat.
I got fat.
December 12th
Crashing onto the couch on Tuesday evening, it takes me all of my will power not to fall into a much needed sleep. If I wasn’t extremely aware that we have visitors coming in twenty four hours, I would be happily drooling into a cushion right now. This time tomorrow, we will have been invaded by four demanding pensioners and I haven’t even made a start on my preparations. Letting out a huge groan, I roll off the bed and pad into the living room.
Today has been hectic to say the least. Not only have I been busy replying to Marc’s ridiculous backlog of emails, I have also been tasked with sorting the final details of Lianna’s surprise birthday party. As far as Li is aware, Oliver and I are taking her for out a quiet meal at her favourite Indian restaurant. Little does she know that we are actually going to Snowflake - an uber cool, pop up bar in the centre of town. For as long as I can remember, as soon as it hits December 1st, Snowflake appears outside the Town Hall. With its sparkly, silver interior and funky igloo shaped booths, it really is the place to be in the run up to Christmas.
For years Li has begged us to go, but the queue of freezing people outside and extortionate entry prices has been more than enough to put us off. Realising that he got a fifty percent discount if he booked through Suave, Marc had the genius idea of hiring the place out for Lianna’s birthday! So far, we have had almost a hundred people RSVP. I didn’t even know that Li knew a hundred people. At least it won’t be one of those dire parties where just ten pitiful guests try desperately to fill the dance floor. Let’s face it, we’ve all been subjected to at least one. I can’t wait to see her face when she realises what he has done. I am almost more excited about Lianna’s party than I am about Christmas. Almost, but not quite.
Pouring myself a coffee, I grab a note pad and draw up a rather lengthy to do list. Thankfully, Lianna is spending another night at her new place and with Oliver at the gym I shouldn’t have any distractions in getting things done. For the first time in a long time, I have absolutely no excuses. Clutching the steaming mug of energy, I slope into the guest bedroom and get to work tearing off the bedding. Deciding between floral prints and classic white takes me way longer than necessary. If only I had something red, green and covered in reindeers it would make this so much easier.
Half an hour later I collapse into a sweaty heap on the floor. Changing a bed shouldn’t be this hard. Stupid Oliver and his ridiculous four poster beds. Why on Earth beds have to be this big, I really have no idea. Unless he is intending on inviting the local football team to join us, there is absolutely no need to have a bed this big. As I ponder Oliver’s thinking behind the humongous beds, I stretch out my legs on the plush carpet. I lay there for a while, half listening to the rain battering against the windows, half fighting the urge to drift off. It must be at least twenty minutes before I finally drag myself up and make up the other guest bedrooms. Once I am satisfied that the apartment is suitably dressed for our impending guests, I swap my coffee for a glass of water and head for the bathroom.
Perching on the edge of the tub, I watch in tired amazement as the water turns to glistening bubbles before my eyes. I have been so busy this past week that my usual nightly soak has been replaced with a quick run under the shower. It’s fair to say that this dip in the bath is way overdue. Far too exhausted to fetch a bottle of wine from the kitchen, I strip down to my birthday suit and climb into the water. The soapy suds provide delicious warmth as I slip my shoulders under the water. Immediately every muscle in m
y body starts to relax. As much as I love Oliver and Lianna, some alone time is exactly what the doctor ordered.
My wedding band sparkles under the bright bathroom lights as I twirl it around my finger aimlessly. I used to think that being married would feel totally different to just being someone’s girlfriend or partner, but to be honest, it really doesn’t. Although I must admit that every time I catch a glimpse of my ring, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. It’s hard to believe that after all this time Oliver still makes me go weak at the knees. Before we got married, I heard so many horror stories of the passion being drained from a relationship the second that a ring goes on a man’s finger. Luckily, Oliver and I are happier than ever. Feeling a soppy smile play at the corner of my lips, I tell myself to get a grip.
Thinking of my husband, I can’t help but wonder what will be waiting for me under the Christmas tree this year. Oliver has always been great at buying gifts. From the exquisite diamond earrings last year, to the beautiful designer handbag that landed on the doorstep for my birthday, somehow he always manages to get it spot on. I wish I could say the same about my own present buying skills. Less than two weeks to go and I still haven’t got the faintest idea of what to buy him. Maybe I will have to resort to an M&S voucher, because you can never have too many socks, can you?
Telling myself that I will somehow come up the best present ever, I reach for my towel and pull the plug to release the water. Thank God for under floor heating. Without it, it is very possible that I would make it through the entire winter as one very sweaty Betty. Watching the raindrops turn to sleet, I tug on a pair of fluffy pyjamas and dive under the covers. Usually I miss going to bed alone, but being able to sleep in the starfish position is a treat not to be sniffed at. Flicking off the light, I snuggle down beneath the sheets and let out an almighty yawn. Christmas might be just around the corner, but so are my parents and I don’t know which one is going to be more stressful.
A holiday miracle would be me fitting into my clothes AFTER the holidays.
December 13th
‘We’re going to be late!’ I grumble, clutching Oliver’s very cold hand as we squeeze our way through the hoards of slow moving people. ‘I told you that we should have set off earlier.’
Not bothering to reply, Oliver shakes his head in disagreement and carries on walking through the busy airport. I hate being late. Especially as I promised my parents that we would most definitely be on time. With Marc giving us both an early finish we should have been here over an hour ago, but Oliver insisted that we had time to grab a burger before for the rush hour. To cut a long story short, we hit the McDonald’s drive through and then sat in a very cold car for a very long time. Needless to say, I am not a happy bunny. What is it with men thinking with their stomachs over their brains?
Finally coming to a stop outside Arrivals, my eyes scan the hoards of people for our parents. To be fair, they shouldn’t be too hard to find. Janie and Randy’s Texas accents will stand out like a sore thumb amongst the quiet babble of British voices. Standing on my tip toes for a better look, I smile as a trio of excited children throw themselves into the arms of a returning solider. Trying not to shed a tear at their delighted squeals, I entwine my fingers with Oliver’s. What is wrong with me lately? The slightest thing sends me on an emotional roller coaster. I even teared up at an Andrex advert yesterday. Just thinking about those adorable puppy dog eyes gives me a lump in my throat. I really need to get a grip.
Running a finger under my eyes in a bid to stop the tears from falling, I spot a couple of Santa hats bobbing along through the sea of people and shake my head as I realise who they belong to.
‘Oh, God.’ I mumble, taking a deep breath. ‘They’re here.’ Fixing a smile onto my face, I raise a hand in acknowledgement.
Singing Christmas songs loudly and laughing like a pack of teenagers, they are obviously rather inebriated. It looks like they have been taking full advantage of the all inclusive drinks on board the plane. Oliver lets out a groan which quickly escalates to a laugh as he greets his parents with open arms. Turning my attention to my own parents, I pull my dad in for a bear hug and squeeze him tightly.
‘Dad!’ I stand back to give him a quick once over. ‘You look fantastic!’
He really does. His usual porcelain skin has a lovely golden glow and his familiar tired eyes are bright and sparkling. It looks like this impromptu break away has done Henry Andrews the world of good. ‘How was your flight?’
‘Ask your mother.’ Rolling his eyes, he motions over to my mum.
Happily jingling the bells on her hat, she seems to be having a whale of a time.
As I wait for her to prise herself away from Oliver, I reach up and greet Oliver’s dad with a kiss on the cheek. ‘Hi, Randy. How are you?’
Squeezing him tightly, I listen intently as he tells me just how excited he is to be spending his first Christmas in the UK. My stomach churns as he reels off a list of very British Christmas traditions that he can’t wait for. Oh, dear. Christmas crackers and paper hats I can do, but Yorkshire puddings and traditional English trifle might prove a little trickier. Maybe I will fake a fall and make my mum do the cooking instead. No one can be mad at a sous chef on a stretcher, can they?
‘Clara!’ My mother’s voice pierces my thought bubble, bringing me back down to Earth with a bump.
‘Mum!’ Letting out an excited squeal, my eyes widen as I take in my mum’s appearance.
It might have been only a couple of months since I last saw her, but once again she looks totally different. If the blonde highlights were a shock, then this new look is most certainly going to take a bit of getting used to. With the jet black bob and hot pink lips you would be forgiven for thinking that she was auditioning for the lead in Snow White. Just to clarify, I do mean Snow White, not the Evil Queen. That role is being saved for Janie.
‘You look... incredible.’ Running a hand over her sleek new do, I link my arm through hers. ‘I’m so glad that you’re here.’ And Christmas dinner panic aside, I really am pleased to see them.
‘Where’s my favourite daughter in law?’ A husky Texan drawl that is instantly recognisable pipes up from the crowd.
Wearing a sparkly Christmas jumper with two strategically placed mince pies, I ignore the rude slogan and greet her with a smile. To anyone else, a sixty something woman wearing spiky Louboutins, a lewd jumper and far too much make up would be rather shocking, but as someone who knows her, you have to believe me that this as conservative as it gets.
‘Janie!’ Spinning around at the sound of Janie’s voice, my lips stretch into a smile as I take in my mother in law.
‘You’re looking a little... fuller figured.’ Janie muses, prodding me in the ribs and letting out a ridiculously loud cackle. ‘I’m kidding!’ She yells, before I have the chance to throw a tantrum.
Not wanting to get into an argument straight away, I punch her playfully in the arm and grit my teeth. It’s fair to say that Janie and I have had our ups and downs over the past few years, but I have to admit that I have grown rather fond of her in recent times. When Oliver and I first met, I thought that Janie was going to be the world’s worst monster in law. Needless to say things have improved greatly between us and I would even go as far as to say that she has become a very good friend. A very good friend who is sarcastic, super critical and a bit of a bitch, but still.
‘Let’s get outta here.’ Oliver announces, grabbing hold of his mother’s suitcase. ‘Who’s hungry?’
Randy lets out a whoop as we start to make our way back to the car park. I hope they are all up for beans on toast. I hear the word takeout thrown around and breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God for Domino’s.
* * *
Turning up the fire, I grab another bottle of red from the wine rack and proceed to top up everyone’s glass. Being the hostess, I decided to stick to orange juice and to be honest, it is has been rather fun watching everyone else get merry and loose lipped whilst keeping a clear head. It’
s rather entertaining to see other people losing their inhibitions safe in the knowledge that you aren’t making a fool of yourself too.
Placing the now empty bottle onto the coffee table, I curl up on the sofa next to Oliver and stretch out my legs. After a little disagreement over who was having the bigger guest bedroom, tonight has been a huge success. Thankfully, Lianna offered to kip on the sofa which nipped the argument in the bud before it got out of hand. Given that she is officially moving into her new place tomorrow, I don’t think that one night on a plush, leather sofa bed will do her any harm.
‘I just love Christmas.’ Janie declares, draining her glass in one swift gulp. ‘My favourite holiday.’
‘Really?’ Oliver raises his eyebrows questioningly. ‘I thought Fourth of July was your favourite holiday?’
‘Any holiday where it is socially acceptable to drink before noon is your mother’s favourite holiday.’ Randy laughs loudly and bangs his hand down on the table.
Janie mumbles something under her breath and reaches for a handful of nachos. Wow! Christmas really must be her favourite holiday. I don’t think I have ever seen Janie eat a carb before. In fact, I distinctly remember her saying that she hasn’t eaten carbs in years. Catching Randy’s face crease with laughter as he locks eyes with Janie, I feel a smile play at the corner of my mouth. The only thing more beautiful than young love is old love. Not that I’m calling Janie old, obviously. I would rather pick a fight with Tony Montana than have Janie find out that I have used her name and the word old in the same sentence.
‘Anyone want this last slice of pizza?’ Lianna asks, licking her lips greedily as she eyes up the remainder of the Meat Feast.
Before anyone has the chance to respond, she picks up the slice and takes a giant sized bite, stopping only to wipe a dollop of barbecue sauce off her nose. I’m going to miss having Lianna around. Yes, she is a messy, dippy airhead, but I have become quite fond of our girly natters over a morning coffee. I don’t think I can say the same for Oliver. Having to fight two girls for the bathroom hasn’t gone down very well. On more than one occasion this week he has grabbed his rucksack and announced that he would be having a shower at the gym. I dread to think how he would cope with a houseful of children to contend with. Maybe this is why so many men end up with a man cave. If married life has taught me anything, it’s that boys never really grow up. They just get older and have bigger, more expensive toys.
