All I Want for Christmas: a hilarious and heart-warming romance

by Joanna Bolouri

  I wipe my clammy hands on my jeans as I await the arrival of Matt, Sarah and Alfie, ignoring the wary looks from the passing parents at the overly sweaty single man by the entrance, as they make their way into the petting zoo. I wish I was perspiring just a little less – it’s definitely adding to the ‘about to bundle a child into a van’ vibe. Given that it’s almost eighty degrees and I made the mistake of wearing a long-sleeved shirt, I must look as uncomfortable as I feel, but it’s not just the heat. I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be, given that it’s now been eight weeks since I’ve seen any of them, although I’ve kept in touch with Matt almost daily. Neither of us has mentioned my leaving party and it seems we both intend to keep it that way.

  With Sarah, it hasn’t been so easy. I haven’t heard from her since that evening – well, other than a stilted ‘good luck’ text on my first day, which I replied to with an equally stiff ‘thanks’. Everything that was said and left unsaid that night had to remain firmly in the past, for both our sakes. Sometimes at night, alone in my bed, I replay that conversation over and over in my head, imagining everything I could have said or done differently. I imagine Sarah’s face as I tell her that I love her, that I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about her. I imagine her telling me that I’m the one, that I can’t leave because she is hopelessly in love with me. I imagine what her lips would feel like on mine.

  And then, inevitably, Matt interrupts my fantasy and suddenly it becomes a nightmare as I picture my best friend’s face as he walks in to find me kissing his girlfriend or professing my love to her. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t real – every time I feel myself burn with shame and guilt.

  Not being in touch with Alfie has made me feel like the biggest arsehole on earth. He’s such a good kid and doesn’t deserve to be ignored but that was one promise that I just couldn’t keep, not while I was avoiding his mum. This one, however, I can keep, which just leaves Sarah and I to suck it up today, for what I’m expecting to be an absolutely tortuous afternoon together.

  I spot Matt first, towering over the family in front of him, Sarah and Alfie eventually emerging beside him, holding hands. She’s wearing a yellow sundress and ankle boots and for a moment, my heart beats just a little faster. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it appears my longing hasn’t subsided as much as I’d hoped for, or at all.

  ‘Nick!’ Alfie yells, running towards me. He’s wearing an oversized blue badge with the number five on it. I smile widely and wave.

  ‘Hey, bud,’ I reply as he swoops in for a hug. ‘Happy birthday! Have you grown taller? You’re practically a giant.’ I squeeze him hard. God, I’ve missed his face.

  ‘Almost an inch,’ Sarah responds. ‘We measured him on the wall last week.’

  She doesn’t make eye contact with me for long, instead shifting her focus to Matt while linking into his arm. My stomach sinks as he kisses the top of her head. Why did I think this would ever be a good idea?

  ‘You’re looking well, mate,’ Matt remarks as we go in for a hug.

  ‘It’s great to see you, man, I’ve missed you.’ And it’s true, I’ve missed them all, perhaps more than I’ve let myself admit over the last two months.

  ‘Is that for me?’ Alfie asks, pointing to the colourfully wrapped present I’ve been clutching for the past ten minutes.

  ‘Sure is!’ I reply. ‘Do you want to open it now or wait until we—’

  He’s already excitedly tearing at the paper and lets out a rapturous ‘YES’ when he sees what’s inside.

  ‘A Spiderman cap! Look, Mum!’

  ‘So great!’ Sarah replies. ‘Let’s see how it looks!’

  She adjusts the headband first before Alfie parades around wearing the cap along with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

  ‘Thanks, Nick!’ he says, grabbing on to my waist. ‘I love Spiderman!’

  ‘Glad you like it, bud! Looks good on you. Let’s go and see what the cows think.’

  We head into the farm and I hope my nostrils will quickly acclimatise to the smell of manure as it hits me in the face. I smile as I see Alfie wrinkle his nose.

  ‘Job going well?’ Sarah asks. ‘Matt says they’re working you pretty hard.’

  Not really, Sarah, it’s just easier to say that than admit that I’m distancing myself from all of you.

  ‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘No rest for the wicked. It’s interesting though, so I’m not complaining. Lots to—’

  ‘PIGS!’ Alfie exclaims. ‘Mum, can we see the pigs?’

  He grabs her hand and begins pulling her towards the first of the many barns we’ll visit today, while Matt and I follow behind.

  ‘He was so excited on the car ride up,’ Matt tells me, grinning broadly and carefully stepping over anything that resembles a cow pat. ‘Sarah was a bit quiet though. Don’t think traipsing through a farm in this heat is quite her thing.’

  ‘Probably not,’ I reply, knowing that it likely has more to do with having to see me again after all these weeks of silence rather than the weather. ‘Alfie’s bound to have enough fun for all of us anyway.’

  A crowd around the piglets has already formed, while the larger pigs get some respite from the ahhing and awwwing which emanates from excited visitors. Sarah manages to squeeze Alfie in near the front of the pen where he points delightedly at the cute little porkers as they snuffle around beside their mother, who lies there looking entirely unimpressed. I chuckle quietly as I see a young dad pull his child’s hand away from a curious pig’s mouth, mumbling something about not wanting to have to explain to his wife why the kid is missing some fingers.

  Matt shuffles around each pen, admiring the snorting beasts, while Sarah glues herself to Alfie, ensuring he doesn’t vault over the side to get a better look at the one he keeps eagerly referring to as Wilbur. I hang back, feeling a little out of place. I’m hesitant to make things any more uncomfortable than they already are. Even through the stench of pig shit, the atmosphere between Sarah and me still reeks with what’s been left unsaid between us.

  ‘Can we see the rabbits now?’ Alfie asks, his attention span shortening by the second. Sarah agrees, taking him by the hand as he drags her back out of the barn, while I wait for Matt, who is currently petting a rather large brown hog.

  ‘They’re cuter than they smell,’ he muses as we follow Sarah and Alfie towards the petting barn. ‘Almost makes me sorry to eat them.’

  ‘No more bacon rolls then?’

  He grins. ‘Almost, mate . . . I said almost.’

  Thankfully the brightly decorated petting area is far easier on the olfactory organs, where we find bunnies, guinea pigs, mice, rats, miniature ponies and a large tortoise named Ken. Every area has a chipper member of staff making sure the younger kids don’t try to lick the smaller pets, while others hand out food that we can use to bond with the animals. We start with Ken, who plods leisurely towards his lunch, but, as we discover, watching a tortoise eat a strawberry painfully slowly gets boring rather quickly.

  Alfie heads for the rabbits next, plonking himself down beside a girl holding a large, fluffy grey bunny, patiently waiting his turn. He’s so mesmerised by the animal, it almost makes my heart burst.

  ‘He always wanted a house rabbit,’ Sarah mentions as she waves over at him, ‘or a dog . . . in fact, any kind of pet . . .’

  She looks at her feet for a moment and sighs. ‘A kid should have a pet. One day, when I can afford a place of our own . . .’

  Matt wraps his arm around her waist and quickly hugs her, a hug which I can tell implies you’re doing your best, you’ll get there. Sarah smiles and focuses on Alfie who is now happily in charge of Thumper.

  As I look around, I see that the barn is jammed full of families featuring all generations: grannies pushing buggies, grandads pacing with their hands behind their back, mums and dads chasing around older kids who have no intention of resting unti
l bedtime. It looks like a lot of work. Fuck, it looks wonderful. Maybe if things had gone another way, it would be me chasing Alfie while—

  ‘Check out those rats,’ Matt says, his voice snapping me back to reality.

  ‘Sorry, what?’

  He gestures to his right and shudders. ‘The rats. Not my favourite.’

  I turn to see a member of staff holding two brown and white rats; kids stare up in awe as the rodents scramble over his hands and up on to his polo shirt. No one appears to be in any rush to hold them, however.

  ‘Oh, hell no,’ I say, taking a step back. ‘When I was younger, our high-rise had a rat problem. They were gross. By the time I moved out, pretty much everyone in that block of flats had invested in a cat.’

  ‘Those ones are quite sweet though,’ Sarah remarks. ‘They’re not overly ratty. You know, like the street rats that hunt in gangs and carry switchblades.’

  ‘Would you like to hold one?’

  Sarah takes a step back as the staff member beckons us closer, obviously eager to show off his rats. His name badge informs us that his name is Dean, but his glasses and middle-parting scream Sheldon.

  I frown. ‘Erm, no . . . I’m good.’

  Dean laughs. ‘They’re very well socialised, they won’t bite.’

  Sarah turns to look at Matt, who is already retreating.

  ‘I would, but I really need the loo. Back in a sec!’

  She scowls as he scuttles off towards the toilets, putting as much distance between himself and the rats as possible. ‘Um . . . well, I need to keep an eye on Alfie, so perhaps another time . . .’

  She turns to see Alfie, now finished with the bunny, bounding up behind us.

  ‘Is this Alfie?’ Dean asks. ‘I was just asking your mum if she wanted to hold one of our lovely ratties!’

  Alfie beams. ‘That’s so cool! I’ve seen Ratatouille four times, haven’t I, Mum? Can I hold one too?’

  Sarah nods in defeat. Alfie just called her cool. There is no way she can decline. I can still say no, though. After playing Santa, my cool rating is at a minus anyway. For the first time today, Sarah and I throw each other a look of anxious solidarity as we walk slowly over towards Dean and his pet vermin.

  Alfie dives right in, allowing the little rodents to sniff and explore him, while Sarah and I stand there with forced smiles, hoping that Dean will suddenly announce that visiting hours are now over. Sadly, it isn’t to be.

  ‘Nick, you hold one too!’ Alfie insists. ‘Come on!’

  Sarah, considerably braver than me, bends down and starts by gently stroking Alfie’s rat as he holds it out towards her. I manage to hold the smaller rat for three seconds before it senses my aversion and decides to go back to Dean on its own. I feel quite offended.

  ‘Mum! I think it likes you!’ Alfie says as he watches the rat rise up and sniff Sarah’s slightly tense face, his little whiskers tickling her nose.

  ‘His name is Byron,’ Dean informs Alfie, ‘and I think you’re right.’

  Sarah grins. ‘He’s softer than I thought . . . actually rather . . . woooahh!’

  Quick as a flash Byron leaps from Alfie’s hands and disappears down Sarah’s top towards her waistband, his little body moving swiftly under the fabric.

  ‘Don’t panic,’ Dean insists, his voice breaking slightly. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

  Alfie, finding this hilarious, gives everyone a play by play of where the rat is going next. ‘Hahaha, is he in your pants now? I think I can see his ear.’

  Sarah yelps as we see the shape of Byron under her dress, lingering at her hips before heading north again. Her now crimson face pleads with Dean to make this stop.

  ‘Nothing to worry about,’ Dean repeats, reaching into his little food bag. ‘Byron is just playing. They love tunnelling and warmth, he’s very happy in there.’

  Dean, now sweating a little, waves a peanut butter treat near the opening to Sarah’s dress but in his clumsy rush to help, drops it down her cleavage.

  ‘Are you KIDDING ME? You’ve just given him a snack! He has no reason to leave now!’

  Dean scrambles in his bag to find another, apologising profusely. ‘I – I’m so sorry, I’ll just try—’

  ‘Can we remove Byron from my nipple area,’ she growls quietly at Dean. ‘I’d like to walk out of here with two.’

  Dean scrunches up his face in mortification. ‘Um, ideally someone would reach down there and retrieve him, but I don’t think it’s appropriate that—’

  Sarah shoots a look towards the bathrooms where Matt is obviously hiding out, before her eyes turn to mine and begin silently pleading.

  ‘Me?’ I ask, before shaking my head in dismay. ‘No! I mean, I can’t just go rummaging around in there! I’m sure Matt will be back—’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ she implores. ‘I would do it for you!’

  ‘Can’t you just . . . shake it out of there?’ I reply, awkwardly pointing towards her chest. ‘Dean, dude. Don’t you have a manager or a mousetrap or something?’

  ‘I’ll do it!’ Alfie offers, reaching up towards Sarah, who now looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Fuck. Between Sarah’s wobbly bottom lip and the thought of Alfie getting accidentally nipped by Byron, there really is no other choice. I’m going to have to man up and step in.

  ‘It’s cool, I’ll do it, buddy,’ I tell Alfie. ‘I have bigger hands . . . if that’s alright with your mum?’

  Sarah nods gratefully.

  ‘Right, Dean, tell me what I need to do.’

  ‘OK, yes . . . so, madam, if you can just stretch the top of your dress as far as it will go and you sir, just reach in and scoop Byron under his front legs and lift. Don’t lift from his tail.’

  As Sarah stretches her dress, I move in closer, trying my very best to ignore her white lace bra and concentrate on the furry stowaway, but my best isn’t good enough and she knows it. We both start to blush.

  Goddammit, Nick, they’re just breasts! This isn’t the time. Focus!

  Spotting a cosy-looking Byron, I slowly reach in, my hand grazing her skin as I grab him gently. She shivers and gives a barely audible gasp, but it’s loud enough to make me wonder whether it’s from my touch or just from simple, plain old fear.

  As I lift Byron out, Alfie gives a little cheer, just as Matt pushes his way past a crowd of amused onlookers.

  ‘What is going on?’ he asks, watching me hold up Byron. ‘What did I miss?’

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Sarah replies as I hand the rat to a very relieved Dean. ‘Jesus, that woman is filming, can we just get out of here? I’m mortified!’

  Dean mumbles another apology as we leave, obviously as equally traumatised as Sarah, while Alfie immediately recounts the story to Matt.

  ‘That was AMAZING!’ Alfie says, skipping alongside his mum as we hastily leave the petting tent.

  ‘Amazing, huh?’ she replies, brushing down her dress. ‘I’m not so sure, honey.’

  Matt laughs. ‘I have to agree. Nick lifted that little rat up like he was lifting Simba in The Lion King.’

  Alfie gives a little jump. ‘BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!’

  Sarah smiles in delight and kisses his cheek. ‘Well, that’s all that matters! Shall we go and see the ponies? I think I can just about handle some ponies.’

  By 3pm, we’ve visited alpacas, cows, ponies, sheep, had a ride on a tractor train around the farm and fed some particularly cute goats. My trainers look like they’ll have to be binned but, so far, it’s been a very successful day. With the exception of the rat ordeal, Sarah and I have managed to avoid each other for most of it, with Matt and Alfie proving to be ideal buffers.

  We head to the café where Sarah has arranged for a birthday cake to be kept behind the counter. We let Alfie play in the kids’ area first, while we all grab some much-needed caffeine.

  ‘A
nyone want any food?’ Matt asks, glancing over at the menu board. ‘I think they have sandwiches.’

  Sarah shakes her head. ‘I’m good, just a latte, thanks.’

  ‘Can I have a Coke, mate?’ I ask. ‘I’m too warm for coffee. I might combust.’

  Matt goes to get our drinks, leaving Sarah and I alone for the first time today. You could cut the tension with a knife.

  ‘So . . .’ I say, trying to break the silence. ‘Those rats, eh? Quick little blighters.’

  ‘Ugh,’ she replies, ‘I can still feel it on me.’ She shudders. ‘But at least it made Alfie smile. I appreciate you stepping up.’ She glances at me briefly before her eyes shift back towards the table.

  ‘Don’t mention it. Yeah, I think Alfie’s having a blast,’ I reply, grateful we’re talking, however awkwardly. ‘Can’t believe how much he’s grown since I saw him last . . . and everything else? Work good?’

  ‘Great,’ she replies, smiling weakly. ‘Really great, couldn’t be better.’

  ‘Excellent . . .’

  She smooths out her skirt as a hush creeps over us again. I don’t think we’ve ever been together and spoken so little. As she peers over my shoulder to check on Alfie, I notice her face is ever so slightly sun-kissed, a faint dusting of freckles sweeping across her nose, and hard as I try, I can’t help but let my gaze linger a little too long. She catches me looking at her and frowns.

  ‘Nick . . . please don’t.’

  ‘I’m not . . . I mean, I wasn’t . . .’

  ‘It’s not fair. We’re past all that now.’

  ‘Honestly, I didn’t mean . . . look, I just miss you, OK?’

  She sighs – it’s clearly not OK – and she rises to her feet. ‘I’m going to help Matt with the drinks and check what’s happening with the cake. Can you keep an eye on Alfie?’

  I nod as she walks over to Matt who’s nearing the front of the queue. Turning towards Alfie, I quietly chastise myself for being an idiot. She didn’t need to know that I miss her; I suppose I lost the right to say that sort of thing to her after the party. Fuck, I feel even worse now.