Sunny was trying not to watch Gran. She was trying not to cry.
And there was a part of her that was trying not to think of last Christmas. Trying not to wonder what Max was doing. Trying not to think of Max and Phoebe sharing Christmas on the other side of the world.
I could have made it better for them, a little voice kept saying in the back of her head, but she only had to look at Gran to know she was right to be here.
‘What goes ninety-nine thump, ninety-nine thump, ninety-nine thump?’ Daisy demanded, her grin as natural as she could make it.
And they answered in chorus, ‘A centipede with a wooden leg.’ They’d heard this joke for years and suddenly...it made things better. A little. That they could shout the answer, that they’d shared this joke for so many Christmases.
That they were family.
Except Max wasn’t here.
He wasn’t family, Sunny told herself fiercely. He wasn’t.
And then the doorbell rang.
‘It’s the timer for the pudding,’ Daisy said—how could it be anything else but the cooking timer?—and Sunny’s heart rate settled. It had lurched...
But then... No. She knew the sound of the timer.
She knew the sound of the doorbell.
And so did Gran. She half rose and Tom glanced at her and then at Sunny and headed for the door.
And Sunny tried hard to stay where she was. It was a crazy thought—what she’d just thought. It couldn’t be.
But...
‘It’s Phoebe!’ Tom’s shout echoed through the house, from top to bottom. ‘Hey, it’s Phoebe and she’s growed! Wow, she’s growed! Phoebe, what have they been feeding you? Hey, gorgeous, come to Uncle Tom. And Max. Is that you under that baby stuff? Come on out. Come on in.’
And Sunny’s heart forgot to race.
Sunny’s heart almost stopped altogether.
* * *
There was nothing like a baby to cheer Christmas. Gran hugged Phoebe like a lifeline. Phoebe cooed and chuckled and banged a spoon on whatever Gran was eating. Gran ended up covered with soggy pudding and totally distracted and...almost happy.
Time out from grief...
‘Thank you for the chocolates, young man,’ she told Max. ‘They’re almost as good as the ones Sunny used to buy.’
The family hooted with laughter, and Sunny grinned and tried not to feel...as if she had no idea how she was feeling.
Max ate as if he hadn’t eaten for a year. The kids told him the joke about the centipede and couldn’t believe he’d never heard it. He talked and laughed as if he belonged.
And Sunny tried to eat, tried not to gaze at him, tried to smile, tried to figure how to get her thoughts back into some sort of order.
‘I had to come,’ Max had said simply as he’d arrived. He’d hugged Gran and then he’d walked around the table to where Sunny sat, feeling frozen. He’d touched her hair, a feather touch, that was all, and then he’d sat where Sam had set a fast place. But that touch...
With dinner done, the house settled for the afternoon. Phoebe napped in a makeshift cot upstairs next to Gran’s bed because that was where Gran wanted her. Gran slept too, probably the first peaceful sleep she’d fallen into since Pa had died. The dishes were done. Christmas afternoon stretched as it always did, sated, sleepy, as if Christmas was over, but this time, for Sunny, it felt...it was as if the gifts hadn’t been opened yet?
‘So...basketball?’ Tom demanded but Max shook his head.
‘I need to talk to Sunny.’
And the way he said it...
The look on the kids’ combined faces was priceless. They fell over themselves to gear up and get out to the hoops without looking at their sister.
They disappeared as Sunny and Max walked out of the front door, through the now beautifully kept front garden and along the lanes they’d walked twelve months ago today.
Why was he here? So much had changed, Sunny thought, yet so much stayed the same.
Her life was here, she reminded herself. If possible, she was needed even more.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Max said, and her heart seemed to clench. She couldn’t handle more pressure. She loved this man. She also loved the little girl currently sleeping beside Gran but it couldn’t be allowed to matter.
Her place was here.
No. Not here. Not right here. She was walking beside Max, and she thought that this was where she didn’t need to be.
Oh, but she wanted...
‘I haven’t come to put more pressure on you,’ he said. They were walking side by side, close but not as close as lovers. Close enough for friends?
That was what they were, she reminded herself. Friends who emailed once a week. Friends who’d almost been something more.
He was still talking, softly, almost to himself. ‘I’d like to say I don’t need you,’ he said into the stillness. Their feet seemed to be walking automatically. He wasn’t looking at her but at the path ahead, as if what he was saying wasn’t monumentally important. ‘I’d like to say everything I’m about to offer you is for you, Sunny, and has nothing to do with me. I’d like to be that selfless but I can’t do it.’
‘I don’t... I don’t understand.’
He paused then and took her hand, twisting her to face him. ‘Sunny... Let me say what I’ve been thinking. And I’ve been thinking...what I offered you back in Manhattan was monumentally selfish. It was all about me. It was an offer that gave me a wife, a lover, a mother for Phoebe, a partner I could admire and love for the rest of my life. But it was all on my terms. You left and I tried to understand, but I couldn’t get it. I didn’t see how I could change my life for a life on your terms.’
‘But...’
‘No, let me finish. Sunny, three days ago I was standing in a Manhattan street watching families prepare for Christmas and your email came through. John was dead. And I stood there like I was frozen and all I could think of was that I wanted to be in that front pew at your grandfather’s funeral. I wanted to be with you. But it was more than that. It was huge. I wanted to have the right to hug your gran, to hug the kids. I know this sounds dumb, maybe still even selfish, but I wanted to have the right to grieve like you were all grieving.’
He hesitated then, as if he was waiting for her to comment but she couldn’t say a word. The whole world seemed to be holding its breath. Waiting for...what?
The warmth of the day was eased by the shade of the massive gum trees overhead. There were bird calls, muted but lovely, and the smell of eucalypt was everywhere. These were the sounds and smell of an Australian Christmas—but right now who was thinking of Christmas?
‘Do you know what I finally figured?’ Max asked at last. ‘I wanted the right to be gutted.’
She stared at him, confused. ‘Okay,’ she confessed. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘So I’ll try and explain.’ He took both her hands in his. His gaze met hers and held and her heart twisted before he even began to speak. Or maybe it didn’t twist. Maybe it simply stilled. Hoped...
‘Sunny, I’m the son of parents who never gave a toss,’ he told her. ‘I was important only because I was the heir. I was raised by a succession of nannies but even they were impermanent because I was moving all the time. My parents moved from one country to another, from one partner to another, and I was simply the kid who had to be fitted in with whoever’s life I didn’t complicate too much at the time. And whenever I started to love a nanny, or be fond of a step-parent, or love a puppy given to me on a whim...there was a Christmas gift that broke my heart...well, life simply moved on and what I loved was left behind.’
‘Oh, Max...’
‘Yeah, tough,’ he said and managed a lopsided smile. ‘It was nowhere near as tough as you had it, Sunny, but you know what? I came out of my childhood with an armour so th
ick I thought it couldn’t be pierced. You, though...you never did armour. You never could. You love and you love and that’s your thing. That’s who you are, Sunny. And me...it’s taken a woman like you to pierce the armour I’ve built. You showed me almost instantly the kind of life Phoebe would have if I didn’t love her. I’ve learned—sort of—but it’s taken me a year to realise...if I’m learning to fight to keep Phoebe from that kind of isolation, maybe... I should fight for me too.’
‘But...how?’ The world had stilled. The world held its breath.
‘By learning to be family?’ His words were tentative. ‘I’ve adopted Phoebe now—did you know? She now shares part of your name. Phoebe Raye Grayland. I called her that because you seem part of us, but...we need more.’
‘We...we had this conversation back in Manhattan.’
‘Yeah, but then I didn’t get it.’ He dropped her hands and drew her in by the waist so she was curved against him. ‘Back then I thought...you and me and Phoebe would be enough. And I could do it part-time. I could pay people to fill the gaps. So that’s what I tried. Even this Christmas when I did my Christmas planning I decided I could play with Phoebe in the morning and work on business imperatives—get back to my real life—while she slept. And then your email arrived and suddenly my life seemed...the wrong way up. And I thought...where is my real life? It’s not in the gaps of time where Phoebe sleeps. It’s not even in Manhattan. Sunny, I need it to be with you.’
‘But it won’t work.’ She was close to tears, immeasurably distressed. It’d be so easy to sink into this man’s arms, to say yes, to love him for ever. But the thought of that huge, designer furnished apartment in Manhattan, the thought of staff to care for Phoebe so the baby wouldn’t interfere with their lives, the thought of Max being gone six days out of seven, and on the end of his phone the rest of the time—it was like a cold, blank wall. She’d seen how much of an effort it had cost him to step away for those weeks. She’d heard the promises he’d made to callers...
‘I’ll be back on deck at the end of the month. Let’s keep everything on hold...’
‘Your life’s on hold now?’ she asked, forcing herself to ask, knowing it had to be said. ‘You’ve taken time off to come over and ask me again?’
‘You think this is the same?’ His hold on her tightened as if he was fearful she might disappear. ‘Sunny, I’ve had an epiphany.’
‘That sounds...painful?’
He grinned but his smile was uncertain. ‘It was,’ he told her. ‘I had it when your email came through, right there on the streets of Manhattan, and it almost knocked me sideways. I was bumped by about six Christmas trees while I was coming to terms with it. And maybe those trees bumped some sense into my thick head. Sunny, what if we make it all about you? What if...instead of asking you to be part of my life, if I ask to be part of your life?’
She was struggling here. Really struggling. Keep it light, she told herself desperately. Do not allow yourself to hope...
‘What? Share my mop?’ she managed. ‘I’m not sure the hotel approves of job-sharing.’
‘Are you so attached to your mop you wouldn’t hand it in if a better offer came your way?’
‘It’s...it’s a very good mop.’ This was dumb but it was all she could come up with. ‘It’s industrial strength with a nice blue handle.’
‘I’ve seen it.’
‘No, you haven’t. My job’s been upgraded. I only mop in an emergency now and they’ve issued me a new one. Didn’t you even notice my last mop was ancient?’
‘No.’ His smile was tender. ‘How could I? I was too busy noticing you.’
‘Compliments won’t get you mop sharing.’ This was ridiculous, but that was how this conversation felt. Ridiculous.
But Max’s words didn’t sound ridiculous at all.
‘Okay, here’s the thing,’ he told her tenderly, lovingly. ‘Three days ago I stood on a Manhattan street and watched families. All sorts of families. Friends, kids, grandparents, lovers. I watched love of all sorts, people getting ready for Christmas. Messy Christmases. Christmases in all sorts of circumstances. And even though I’d just adopted Phoebe it didn’t seem the same. But I stood there and thought of you as a kid making sock puppets for your family. I thought of you fighting for your siblings, putting them first. When I proposed eleven months ago that’s what I thought I was buying. I wanted that kind of commitment, Sunny. I wanted it for me and for Phoebe. But what I didn’t see until now was that...it has to come from me. I got it wrong. Sunny, I want to be allowed to fight for you. More... I want to be allowed to need you, as the kids, as your gran needs you. But I want the rest too. I want you to need me. I love you, Sunny, and I need us to be a family. I want to be a part of your family, and I’ll do...whatever it takes.’
‘You...you already...you’ve said...’
‘That I’ll send you to university. That I’ll pay for nannies, housekeepers. That I’ll pay for your family here to be looked after. Yes, I said all that, and you know what? It cost me nothing. Because there was no me in the equation. Sunny, now I’m asking you to marry me, and in return...whatever you want...’
‘I don’t have a price.’ It was a snap; frustration, fear, everything she had was in that word. Did he not get it?
‘I’m not talking price,’ he said, evenly now as if he finally understood what she was saying. ‘I’m talking me. My commitment to your life. My love. Sunny, how would you feel if I moved here? If we did this big old house up so it’ll last another hundred years...?’
‘It’s not ours,’ she whispered, trying fiercely to be practical. ‘It’s a life tenancy until Gran dies.’
‘Then we find the person who eventually inherits and make them an offer they can’t refuse—we can do that.’
‘You can’t move here. Your life’s in Manhattan.’
‘My apartment’s in Manhattan. My life’s all over the world. Do you know how much time I spend in the air? But that can stop. It will stop.’
‘It’s what you are.’
‘It’s what I’ve been raised to be. It’s not what I want to be for the rest of my life. My company’s full of extraordinary talent. With my father gone, I can run things the way I want. I can control things here as well as in Manhattan. And I hear there are very good architecture courses in Australia.’
‘Max, I don’t want a nanny!’
‘You won’t need one. Phoebe’s not your responsibility. She’s mine.’
‘But I love her.’ The words were out before she could stop them and Max’s expression changed.
‘Of course you do. That’s your specialty and that’s pretty much what I expected you to say. Which is part of what I’ve figured. That loving me shouldn’t mean loving anyone else any less. Take me as an example if you like. Twelve months ago I didn’t love anyone. Now... I love Phoebe. The pain when I knew Pa was dead was like a kick in the guts. I care for your Gran and for Daisy and Sam and Chloe and Tom. And there’s more. Twelve months ago I hardly knew my housekeeper and now...not only do I know about every one of her grandchildren, she even carted me out so Phoebe and I could help her choose gifts. And Karen, our nanny... She and her little boy... They’ve learned to love Phoebe and in turn they’ve twisted their way into my heart too. I think...if you do agree to my proposal...that I’ll leave them in my apartment in caretaker mode. With Eliza, too. Karen dreams of being a potter. With Eliza’s help to care for Harry, she could do that.’
‘You’d let...you’d have them stay in that apartment...?’
‘It’d still be there, then,’ he said. ‘A base when we...if we wanted to visit New York. Because there might be times...’
‘Max...’
‘Because I would be busy,’ he said, with the air of someone putting all their cards on the table and the consequences would have to play out. ‘Sunny, I can’t let go of the corporation. It’s
too big, too important; it has the power to affect too many lives.’
‘And you care about it.’ Her vision was starting to blur. She never wept but her cheeks were wet now. ‘You want it to make a difference.’
‘I do,’ he admitted. ‘Dad did so much damage but he’s left me in a position where not only can I right the damage, I can move the company forward to do great things. But...’ He took a deep breath. ‘Sunny, I used to think I could do it on my own but I can’t. I know that now. Sure, I can do a little, but with you beside me, with my family around me, with love... Sunny, we could conquer the world.’
‘The world...’
‘Why not? But you... When it comes to the world or you... Sunny, you’ll always come first. You always will. So how about it, my love? Will you trust me enough to put your hand in mine? To take me on? To haul me back when I get out of line, when I stop remembering what’s important?’
And then he paused and the pause stretched out. He was looking down into her eyes and she was trying her hardest to meet his gaze but tears were tracking down her face. She couldn’t stop them. She needed a tissue but her hands were in his and there was no way she was letting go.
And then he kissed her, gently, on each cheek, kissing away her tears.
‘Sunny,’ he said gently, softly, lovingly. ‘Will you teach me to love? Will you let me into your heart?’
And there was only one answer. Of course there was.
Together they could take on the world?
There was no need for that, she thought mistily. Who needed the world?
Max was here. Max loved her.
‘You’re already there,’ she whispered back. ‘Oh, Max...oh, my love, you can share my mop any time you want.’
* * *
Was Christmas the time for a wedding?
Yes, it was. It hadn’t seemed right to hold it straight after they’d lost Pa. It had seemed somehow fitting that they waited for a full year. In truth they might have waited longer—they were so close, so truly family there seemed little need for a formal wedding and Gran’s grief needed time to play out. But finally Gran decided to shed her grief enough to move on. On a warm spring day, while Sunny and Max were helping Phoebe plant strawberries—with mixed results—she came to find them.
The Billionaire's Christmas Baby Page 17
