Ginny rushed in after a gulp of the bubbly, trying again to steel herself against the constant burning in the backs of her eyes; but then catching a glimpse of Rachel’s lips quivering, a sudden gasp escaped her throat. ‘Me … merry Ch … Christmas, Mike.’ It was only the third time they had all been together since Mike’s passing but it wasn’t getting any easier.
Ross reached for his mother’s wrist, his caring green-grey eyes, so like his father’s, misting. ‘You OK, Mum?’
Ginny reached for her napkin, holding back sobs as five-year-old Tommy, Rachel’s eldest, gazed at her, concerned. ‘Yes, yes. I’ll be all right. Truly. I knew it would be tough. Our first Christmas without him. I know it’s difficult for all of you too.’
‘I miss Grandad,’ Tommy said. ‘He’s going to miss me opening my presents.’
A symphony of swallowing and gasping sounds resonated around the table and, like her mother, the petite Rachel grabbed her napkin and wiped her eyes as she turned to her son. ‘I know, darling, but he’s here in spirit. We just have to deal with the rest.’ She turned to the empty chair then back to her son. ‘We’ll get used to it; we have to. Come on, there’s a good boy, get your dinner.’
Ross leaned back, nervously rubbing his four-year-old daughter Amelia’s back and faced his mother. ‘If you don’t mind, Mum,’ he said hesitantly, ‘I’d like to ring you on Monday, the twenty-eighth, the anniversary. A bit selfish I know, but I just want to know that you’re all right.’
‘Me too,’ Rachel added, gently squeezing her mother’s hand.
Fighting yet another lump in her throat, Ginny smiled as she glanced at each of her children. An image of Mike amused her. It was one from years ago when he was teasing Ross’s friends that the Friends comedy characters were named after his kids. As much as she wondered and tortured herself about what Mike may or may not have done, he was still their children’s dad and they had loved him unconditionally and were both coping so well with his loss. The urge to jump up and kiss them both became overwhelming.
‘My cherubs, of course, I won’t mind. That would be lovely, thank you. Both of you. It’s a major step for all of us and if it helps you too, then even better. I remember when my dad died, it took me ages to come to terms with it. Just hearing Louis Armstrong sing “Wonderful World” on the radio would start me off. For some reason I coped with Grandma’s passing better. I’ve read though, that the first anniversary of a beloved’s death can be a turning point, so let’s hope so. We’ll never forget Dad, but we all have to move on.’ She blinked at her own words. ‘I’ve been thinking about having some sort of memorial that day, to help.’
Rachel looked aghast. ‘Not on your own.’
‘No. With the girls.’ Ginny clenched her teeth. ‘All of us, I’m sure they won’t mind. We may need a rest from the skiing by then anyway. That’s if I even get on the slopes.’ Ginny gave a snort, realising the impression her negativity would give. Her usual self-doubts crept in. ‘Oh, please don’t let on to the girls, but I’m petrified.’
‘Oh, Mum, I thought you were.’ Rachel gazed at her mother with concern. ‘You know, there’s still time to change your mind, although I think it’s a perfect distraction, a great idea to challenge yourself as well as have fun with your friends.’
Ginny slid her knife beneath a slice of succulent white turkey and laid it gently onto her plate. ‘No. No, I wouldn’t – couldn’t – let my friends down. They’ve organised this all on my behalf. I’m really touched that they care so much. So, no. I’m determined to throw myself into it. And, I’m exaggerating. It will be a new challenge, and I’m sure the girls will expect me to organise something to remember Dad. Angie even suggested it at one point. I don’t want the trip to be miserable though. Just a toast at a meal or something. I’m not really sure if there will be anywhere suitable, but once we’re there, hopefully I’ll find a place I think is right and I’ll ask the girls. I’m sure they won’t mind. Like you, they’ll think it fitting that we remember him.’
Ginny flinched as one of the red candles in the centre of the table flickered. She would never get used to losing Mike despite her need to question him. She missed him terribly. And it was incomprehensible that he was taken at just sixty-one. Was it punishment for his misdemeanour? Not that she could ever know anything now. His words would echo, possibly haunt forever, but no explanation would ever be spoken. All she knew was that she needed closure and the determination to stop tormenting herself and wallowing in self-pity.
‘Your hair looks really good by the way. I like the new shorter fringe,’ Rachel said, brushing her fingers through a spring of Ginny’s bouncy highlighted hair. ‘You’re looking amazingly fit too. You must have worked really hard preparing. You remind me of that … oh, what’s her name, the Sex and the City woman, er … Kim Cattrall. That’s the one. Don’t be surprised if you pull on the slopes.’
‘Don’t be daft. I’m almost sixty not sixteen.’ Ginny laughed, but was thankful to be side-tracked from the incessant niggling that festered in her mind. ‘But, I’m flattered. Thank you. It’s been hard work and I pray that I’ve done enough to get me through the week. I’m apprehensive about skiing, yes, but I’m really looking forward to having some fun with the girls. The timing’s perfect and I’m certainly glad to be away from that office. I was tempted to walk out on Thursday.’
Ginny shook her head and scrunched her nose. ‘It’s not a nice place to work, but I thought of today, with all of you, and the week away with my all my friends. The break will be the tonic I need. Maybe I’ll look at the job differently when I get back.’
Kim
Sheltering from the late afternoon sun under a canvas canopy Kim Anderson drained the last of the tepid tea from her mug, knowing she should get on with her packing. It was naughty to be lazy, naughty and nice and something she rarely did. And why not? The Perth heat was intense and there was nothing more refreshing after a day on her feet at the hospital than a cool dip in the pool and then that priceless slot of the day slumbering for an hour in the shade, gorging on colours and the heady scents of the rose garden before Will, her husband, returned from work.
In fact, today she would savour it that little bit more just because she could. Will would be another two hours. She had suspended Lena, her personal trainer, for two weeks over Christmas and whilst she was away skiing. The break, she envisaged, would give her time to decide if she should actually continue. Although the sessions had produced a body she had always yearned for, it had been gruelling these last few months, so she deserved a treat.
The pile of ironing in the laundry room could lounge for another half hour despite the fact she couldn’t wait to seal up her travel bags and be on her way to Europe. So far from Australia, and so much cooler this time of year, but she took comfort and warmth knowing that she would very soon be with Mai, one of her twin daughters, for Christmas Day. Mai was staying with Kim’s friend and former colleague, Tandy, in her home by Lake Geneva. After that Kim would meet up with her besties – Ginny, Cathy, Lou and Angie – for a whole week together. And skiing.
The skiing was irrelevant. An excuse. It was time with her old buddies that her heart yearned for. Since the twins left, a wound had opened up inside her. Kim indulged herself among the roses. Her home served as a place for sleeping, eating, storing belongings and washing clothes. Although beautiful, with every consumable imaginable, its heart had been ripped out when Avril and Mai flew off to study in Europe four years ago. It only came alive every Christmas.
After
