He was about to storm over and wrench Scarlett away when a woman came his way holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate and handed one of them to the boy.
It was then he realised he’d been hit with a double whammy. Because she was the girl on the knitting stall he thought he’d recognised when he walked past, but had told himself he was imagining things.
And, by the way they were glaring at him, they knew exactly who he was too.
Chapter Seven
Amelia
‘What is he looking at?’ Amelia bristled and muttered the rhetorical question under her breath as she stood with Kyle drinking the hot chocolate she’d found from the artisan stall at the end of the row. She’d been working on the knitting stall for the last two hours, Cleo had sent her to take a break so she could check on Kyle, and she’d go back for an hour or so to finish up. She hadn’t expected to find Kyle dealing with this man’s scrutiny, again.
Kyle had barely spoken to her ever since she’d found him with the bottle of vodka, apart from asking for the headache tablets the morning after. She’d made some quip about how he wouldn’t need them if he’d waited until the right age to have a drink and his body could handle it. And since then he’d been cordial but hadn’t entered into much voluntary conversation.
Ignoring the man who was still looking their way and seemed to be with the girl Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off, she asked, ‘How’s it all going over here?’
‘I haven’t stolen anything, if that’s what you’re implying.’
‘Kyle, for goodness’ sake, that wasn’t what I meant.’
He locked eyes with her about to retaliate but then thought better of it. ‘I know, I’m being a twat.’
He’d made her laugh. ‘Hey, your description not mine.’
‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a tosser the last few days.’
‘You’re getting these descriptions spot on.’
‘OK, no need to go on about it. But I’m sorry, all right? I shouldn’t have taken the vodka, or been rude to you.’
She looked around, relieved to find the man had gone. It meant she could focus on Kyle as he finished his hot chocolate, threw the cup in the bin and took over the task of sweeping up the ground without being asked. She smiled a hello to Mitch as he helped another customer select a tree. Hands warmed with her own hot chocolate, she reached out and gave Kyle a hug and he did well to wait a few seconds before shrugging her off.
As he got back to work she tackled what they hadn’t managed to address after the vodka incident. ‘I thought your friend had gone to prison? The one you were talking to on the iPad,’ she added for clarification.
He stopped for a moment before carrying on, the broom swishing the damp pavement. He bent down to scoop up the debris, which he threw into a box beside the chalet. ‘He did, he’s out. He’s not exactly a mass murderer.’
‘He’s not someone who’s a good influence either.’
‘I know, but he’s a mate. He called me, not the other way round, I could hardly hang up on him, could I?’
‘I don’t want to see you led into anything you don’t want to do.’
‘Stop treating me like one of your hopeless work case studies.’
‘They’re not hopeless; actually, the kids are a whole lot like you.’
‘Well I’m not a project you get to succeed or fail with.’
‘I know you’re not, you’re my nephew.’
She let Kyle work while she finished her drink. At least he was talking, although he’d probably finished his drink so fast so he wouldn’t be stuck having to talk to her for too long. ‘I’d better get back to the knitting stall.’
‘Bye.’ He didn’t look up.
One last effort. ‘What do you say to getting a tree for our apartment?’
That got his attention. ‘It would feel more like Christmas.’
‘Exactly. And we can buy some ornaments – nothing too fancy, just enough that it’s not bare or really sad. I’m sure we could get some bargains if we search hard enough.’ She watched him, happy to see him so relaxed when he didn’t have his guard up. It showed a hint of his little-boy charm, which she knew was still there deep down, it was just that sometimes you really had to delve to find it.
*
The next morning Amelia woke to the smell of Christmas in their apartment even before the heating system kicked in and although it was bare, having been delivered by Mitch only late last night, the tree was still magical to see. She’d messaged Cleo to ask whether she knew the best place for cheap ornaments and she’d told her not to buy too much because Darcy had plenty for her own guests with more to spare.
‘I’ve sorted some ornaments, which I’ll pick up later this evening,’ she told Kyle as he came out of his room to make a cup of tea. ‘But I’m still going out to find some of our own, perhaps a few we could take home to England for souvenirs.’
‘I’ll come.’
‘You don’t have to, you go back to bed for a bit if you like.’
‘No chance. I want to make sure you don’t choose anything too hideous.’
She ruffled his hair before he could escape and she wished Connie could see the way he was when he didn’t have everyone on his back, when he was away from the norm. The vodka hadn’t been a very good example, but the way Kyle was now, offering his company without having to be begged, was something Amelia knew her sister had forgotten. All this talk of throwing him out of the house if he didn’t change was because Connie didn’t see how badly he needed help. Connie had let Amelia swoop in to the rescue more and more lately, as though she was tired of parenting, and Amelia hated seeing the way Kyle and his mum’s relationship was heading. They’d end up estranged for good at this rate.
Her mind back on the holiday and this magnificent city, Amelia and Kyle set off with a map of the stores they wanted to go to and a budget in mind. Amelia wanted to choose a few extras to make the tree theirs. They’d collect more decorations from Darcy tonight because they’d both been invited over to the Inglenook Inn for drinks. Kyle had said no at first until Amelia assured him it wouldn’t just be women. There would be a male cohort including Mitch, Kyle’s temporary boss, whom he got on very well with, and Myles, Darcy’s husband.
It didn’t take long to find what they were looking for and back at the apartment they sifted through their selections. They’d picked up New York baubles in midnight blue with the golden skyline of Manhattan and Santa in his sleigh crossing in front of the moon. Kyle had picked up a box of hundreds of twinkly lights, Amelia had found a set of gingerbread ornaments, each one unique – one held a rolling pin, another had a pinny on, one held a candy cane.
She lay the ornaments out on their tissue paper on the side table in the lounge area as she suspected Kyle would want to do the tree tonight, no matter how late they returned from the Inglenook Inn, and she unwrapped the one he’d chosen of a firefighter uniform, helmet, boots and axe attached. ‘What made you choose this one?’
‘It’s very New York.’ He did his best impression of a native accent.
She knew there was more to it than that, but it would take time for him to open up to her, if he ever did. Over the years he’d never quite managed to talk about his dad in the way she knew he needed to. She hoped that unlocking all that grief might be a way to move forwards.
They soon left the apartment and spent the rest of the day sightseeing rather than shopping. They saw the Flatiron Building, which really did resemble an iron, and Kyle bought another pair of gloves for the temperatures he described as arctic, even managing a smile when she suggested it might snow soon given the frost on the roofs when they’d woken this morning, the wind biting at your cheeks and the temperatures that were set to plummet in the lead-up to Christmas. They walked for miles, they hopped on and off the subway so they could pose for pictures on the Brooklyn Bridge, outside the Supreme Court. Lower Manhattan was as busy as they’d anticipated but Kyle was keen to visit the 9/11 Memorial Museum and Amelia agreed to go on the con
dition he ice-skate with her in Central Park tomorrow. She didn’t think he’d go for it in a million years but he surprised her when he said yes. The mood then turned sombre with a visit to the museum, contemplative silence enveloping them when they emerged into the Manhattan mayhem once again.
As they walked Amelia said, ‘I’m surprised you wanted to go in.’ She got a shrug in response. ‘I never thought you would. It’s quite confronting.’
He said nothing as they headed on towards the apartment to get ready for tonight, just upturned the collar of the coat that probably wasn’t enough to tackle a New York winter. She let the silence settle until he eventually admitted, ‘I wanted to go in because I knew it would remind me of Dad, in a good way. For his bravery, you know.’
She stopped in the street and apologised to the man behind who’d been walking head down and nearly collided with her. Now she was getting somewhere. It was the most Kyle had said about his dad in years. He usually avoided the subject. How did she not make the connection between the museum and Kyle’s own journey? In her job she prided herself on being switched on but now she felt blindsided.
Kyle’s dad was a firefighter, had been ever since Amelia met him when her sister introduced her to her “hot firefighter boyfriend”. As a little boy Kyle was into anything to do with his dad’s profession. He had his dad play fire drills in the back garden, whereby they’d use the hose pipe and run it along the length of the grass before tackling the fence at the end as though the entire thing was going up in flames. Kyle had loved the game; his dad had turned the hose on him once, soaked him through, leaving Connie rather unimpressed given Kyle had only just got over a cold. Kyle had slept in a fireman costume for weeks until Connie had insisted they finally wash it. It did smell – Amelia had given the little boy a hug when she arrived and it must have been the winced expression on her face that finally sent Connie over the edge. There’d been tears, tantrums, and the second it was dry he’d put it on again. Whenever his dad came home Kyle exhausted him with question after question about his day, things he’d seen, any heroics.
And then one day, Stuart didn’t come home. He’d been at the station, it had been an easy day, but out of the blue he had a heart attack in the car as he drove home. No health problems before that, not even a family history to contend with, just one of those things, they’d been told. Connie couldn’t make sense of it. She kept talking about how fit he was, how healthy, she’d asked Kyle if he wanted sausages for dinner that night, in shock, business as usual being her coping mechanism. But when Amelia put her arms around her sister, Connie fell apart. Amelia would never forget the wailing, the pain, the tight hold of Kyle and his mother as they huddled in the kitchen until the full moon dared to push its way through the darkened sky.
‘I think about him all the time,’ Kyle said now, shivering on the side of the street. ‘I still dream about him.’
‘You never talk about him.’
‘Sometimes I open my eyes in the morning and the dreams feel so real that I’ve leapt out of bed and opened my door because I think I hear his voice.’
They slowly walked on, side by side, all the way back to the apartment. Amelia didn’t know what to say to him, this boy who was the closest thing she had to a son. She had so much experience dealing with youths who were angry, grieving, upset, but when it came to her own nephew, why couldn’t she process it?
But she knew the answer. If another kid pushed her away, she couldn’t do much about it. She hated it when it happened, but that was the end. Failing was horrible but there had never been such high personal stakes as this. If Kyle had kept his grief inside all these years then she’d failed as an auntie and Connie had failed as a mum, and Amelia wondered whether her sister had any idea of the damage that had been done.
When they reached their apartment Kyle stopped her on the stoop before she opened the front door. ‘Thank you for taking me away from home for a while.’
‘I’m glad you came.’ She hugged him. She had no idea what else to say because most kids would’ve said thank you for bringing them to the most exciting city in the world, to the Big Apple, the city of dreams, yet her nephew seemed to be focused only on the escape it had provided.
And now, Amelia knew, all these years after he lost his dad, Kyle’s grief was still there, just as raw. Was it any wonder he had never got his life on track?
*
Amelia stood in the shower much longer than usual. It was the only place she could do her thinking, let a tear escape and feel her own emotions bubbling up inside without affecting Kyle. When she eventually emerged from her bedroom dressed in a gold jumper, skinny black jeans and boots, she assumed she’d have to nag her nephew to get him out of the door, but here he was in front of her, ready. She tried not to pass comment on the ironed checked shirt he had on, or the smarter of his pairs of jeans he’d chosen. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d had a shave and smelt as though he might have used the aftershave his mum bought him last Christmas in an attempt to change him from a grungy, sulky teen into a youth who was well on his way to becoming a man.
‘You scrub up pretty nice,’ he told her.
‘Why thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself.’ His hair still glistened from the shower water, or maybe it was product. Wonders would never cease. Male grooming, perhaps he’d finally hopped onto the trend.
‘Do you promise it won’t be just chicks there tonight?’
‘Firstly, tweet tweet. And secondly, I told you there’ll be other boys for you to talk to.’
‘Men, Amelia, if you please.’ He lowered his voice and gruffly added, ‘Not boys.’
When Kyle was like this he was good company, it was a joy to have him around. ‘Don’t forget your gloves, it’s cold out there. And you really do need a better coat. That one barely has anything to it, it’s hardly suitable for winter,’ she said as he pulled it on.
‘Can’t afford to buy a new coat just for a holiday.’ He switched the main light off as they headed out. ‘This one will do me for years yet.’
‘We’ll grab a hot drink each to make sure we don’t arrive at the party ratty and already wanting to leave.’
‘As if,’ he protested.
One of the things she really loved about New York was how many good street vendors were dotted about, in almost any direction you turned. And such variety. If you didn’t like what was offered on one cart, walk fifty paces and you’d have something different.
They settled on a vendor selling coffees and hot chocolates, went for the former, and making sure to take care on the icy footpaths in the quieter streets, they made their way to the inn chatting away about the city. As they drank, Kyle identified some of the iconic buildings in the distance, they debated whether he was right or not, they marvelled at lights in store windows taking Christmas to a whole new level.
‘If I get bored, can I leave?’ he whispered as they arrived at the Inglenook Inn and took the steps up to the front door of the brownstone.
‘Absolutely not.’ She didn’t lose her smile because Darcy was already opening the door for them.
They said their hellos, Darcy ushered them in out of the cold and from behind the desk took out a big box. ‘There’s plenty in here for you to decorate your tree with.’
‘I really appreciate this, thank you.’ Amelia wanted to give Kyle a shove because he was looking around the place like he was casing the joint. He looked nervous, uncomfortable. She peeked inside the box of ornaments. ‘Look,’ she said to Kyle, repeating herself twice and almost at the point of wanting to kick him in the shins if he didn’t respond.
‘Great,’ he said.
‘Kyle can help carry it home,’ she assured Darcy, who stashed the box back behind the desk for them and launched into hostess mode, offering them drinks. ‘Red wine for me please,’ said Amelia.
‘We do have champagne.’
‘Oh go on then, but only if you join me.’
‘Of course, probably in a while when I’m less likely to have guests n
eeding me. I’ve finished organising dinner reservations, called a cab for a couple who wanted to go over to Brooklyn tonight for some Christmas lights, and if any other guests come in, they can join our gathering. The more the merrier. Kyle, what can I get you?’
‘A cola please.’
Very polite. Amelia hooked her arm through his when Darcy went to fix the drinks. ‘Smile, at least once.’
‘Not yet, don’t want to use all my smiles up.’ But even he couldn’t say that with a straight face. ‘And does she have to be so cheery?’
‘What is up with you tonight?’ He’d been fine on the way here but now he was skittish, as though he couldn’t settle. And as Rupert brought more canapés out to lay on the coffee table, Amelia hoped her nephew was going to behave himself tonight and at least try not to look like he was waiting for the right moment to either pilfer the family jewels or escape out of the nearest window.
When Mitch turned up Kyle settled down, relieved to have other males in the room, including Jude, who helped Mitch out from time to time and seemed to get on well with her nephew. Since his dad died, Kyle hadn’t had many male role models in his life, but watching him now, with Mitch, Amelia could see it was part of what he needed. He had a grandpa on his dad’s side but saw very little of him and Connie’s choices in men since Stuart died could only be described as diabolical. None of them seemed interested in Kyle, unless you included the guy who’d bullied Kyle and whom Connie had found pinning her son up against the wall. Thankfully Connie ended that relationship straight away even though she knew he’d likely been antagonised by her son.
Amelia had never been with someone who already had a child from a previous relationship, but she hoped if she ever was she’d be able to factor children in as part of it. Then again, what did she know? Her love life since Paul had been non-existent.
Christmas Promises at the Garland Street Markets: A feel good Christmas romance (New York Ever After, Book 5) Page 10
