Read Online A Family This Christmas by Sue MacKay - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sue MacKay
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she’d written in a year headed off into cyberspace.
* * *
‘Jenny, where are you?’
‘We’re home. Are you better?’
No way could she tell the twins apart by their voices. ‘Hi, guys. I’m on the couch with a cat. Who does it belong to?’ The black and white moggy had made itself very comfortable on her thighs an hour ago and she hadn’t had the heart to send it packing.
‘That’s Socks. She lives at Mrs Warner’s house, but Dad says we feed her more times.’
One boy appeared by the couch. Andrew? Fingers crossed she’d got it right, she said, ‘Socks is quite heavy, isn’t she? Andrew, can you lift her off so I can shift my legs?’
‘Okay.’
Got the name right. Great. ‘Thanks.’
‘That cat’s far too fat,’ came an acerbic comment from the kitchen.
‘Should I have put her outside, Cam?’ Like that would be easy in her current situation.
‘Good luck with that.’ Cam strolled into view. ‘How was your afternoon?’
‘Excellent.’ Joined the local theatre group and did a turn in the mussel-opening shed. ‘It’s unbelievably quiet here. I haven’t done anything to help with dinner, I’m sorry.’
‘You weren’t expected to,’ Cam glanced at her.
‘We’re having a barbecue.’ Marcus bounced around the room until he found the TV remote.
‘We always have barbecues,’ Andrew explained in a bored tone.
Every time one boy spoke the other added his say. So like her and Alison it made her heart crunch. She’d stopped talking very much in those first months after Alison had left her because she’d found herself pausing and waiting for Alison to speak. Every time she hadn’t, it had hurt all over again.
‘Barbecuing is the easiest way to cook,’ Cam muttered. ‘Especially in summer.’ Did he feel pressured about the meals he provided for his boys? They weren’t exactly looking malnourished.
Licking her lips exaggeratedly, Jenny said, ‘Barbecues are my favourite. Yummy food and no slaving over a hot stove.’ Like she ever slaved over any kind of stove.
‘Turn that TV off, Marcus. You haven’t done your jobs yet. The washing needs bringing in.’ Cam reached for the remote, tugged it from Marcus’s hand. He raised his voice. ‘Andrew, empty the dishwasher. Now. Bring your lunchboxes out to the kitchen first.’
Jenny grimaced. ‘Can I do anything? Make a salad or peel some potatoes?’ Sitting here while everyone else did the chores made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t even noticed the washing on the line.
Cam was already returning to the kitchen. ‘Stay where you are. We have a routine.’ He turned and gave her a reluctant smile. ‘For want of a better word.’
‘I’d be in the way.’ She got it. But tomorrow surely she’d be able to get around a bit better, and then she’d make herself useful.
‘You would,’ Cam agreed too easily.
The man looked so tired she wanted to insist on helping in one way or another, but she could see any interruption to his routine might be more of a hindrance than a help so she stroked the cat, which had returned to sprawl across her thighs, instead.
Marcus staggered in with an overladen washing basket and dropped it on the floor in the middle of the lounge.
‘Push that over here and I can fold everything.’ She nudged the cat aside and got a hiss for her effort.
‘There’s a novelty,’ quipped the man himself, as he strode past to the glass doors opening on to the deck and that barbecue he was so fond of.
‘Dad tips the clothes onto the table in the laundry and we take what we need when we want it.’
She had noticed the rumpled look worn by all three males in this house. Tomorrow she’d balance on her cast and iron some shirts.
‘Give away all my secrets, why don’t you?’ Cam returned, ruffling his son’s hair on the way past.
‘I don’t know anyone who likes ironing.’ Except Alison had, driving her crazy with her fussiness when it had come to clothes. The memory tugged, sent a small wave of
* * *
‘Jenny, where are you?’
‘We’re home. Are you better?’
No way could she tell the twins apart by their voices. ‘Hi, guys. I’m on the couch with a cat. Who does it belong to?’ The black and white moggy had made itself very comfortable on her thighs an hour ago and she hadn’t had the heart to send it packing.
‘That’s Socks. She lives at Mrs Warner’s house, but Dad says we feed her more times.’
One boy appeared by the couch. Andrew? Fingers crossed she’d got it right, she said, ‘Socks is quite heavy, isn’t she? Andrew, can you lift her off so I can shift my legs?’
‘Okay.’
Got the name right. Great. ‘Thanks.’
‘That cat’s far too fat,’ came an acerbic comment from the kitchen.
‘Should I have put her outside, Cam?’ Like that would be easy in her current situation.
‘Good luck with that.’ Cam strolled into view. ‘How was your afternoon?’
‘Excellent.’ Joined the local theatre group and did a turn in the mussel-opening shed. ‘It’s unbelievably quiet here. I haven’t done anything to help with dinner, I’m sorry.’
‘You weren’t expected to,’ Cam glanced at her.
‘We’re having a barbecue.’ Marcus bounced around the room until he found the TV remote.
‘We always have barbecues,’ Andrew explained in a bored tone.
Every time one boy spoke the other added his say. So like her and Alison it made her heart crunch. She’d stopped talking very much in those first months after Alison had left her because she’d found herself pausing and waiting for Alison to speak. Every time she hadn’t, it had hurt all over again.
‘Barbecuing is the easiest way to cook,’ Cam muttered. ‘Especially in summer.’ Did he feel pressured about the meals he provided for his boys? They weren’t exactly looking malnourished.
Licking her lips exaggeratedly, Jenny said, ‘Barbecues are my favourite. Yummy food and no slaving over a hot stove.’ Like she ever slaved over any kind of stove.
‘Turn that TV off, Marcus. You haven’t done your jobs yet. The washing needs bringing in.’ Cam reached for the remote, tugged it from Marcus’s hand. He raised his voice. ‘Andrew, empty the dishwasher. Now. Bring your lunchboxes out to the kitchen first.’
Jenny grimaced. ‘Can I do anything? Make a salad or peel some potatoes?’ Sitting here while everyone else did the chores made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t even noticed the washing on the line.
Cam was already returning to the kitchen. ‘Stay where you are. We have a routine.’ He turned and gave her a reluctant smile. ‘For want of a better word.’
‘I’d be in the way.’ She got it. But tomorrow surely she’d be able to get around a bit better, and then she’d make herself useful.
‘You would,’ Cam agreed too easily.
The man looked so tired she wanted to insist on helping in one way or another, but she could see any interruption to his routine might be more of a hindrance than a help so she stroked the cat, which had returned to sprawl across her thighs, instead.
Marcus staggered in with an overladen washing basket and dropped it on the floor in the middle of the lounge.
‘Push that over here and I can fold everything.’ She nudged the cat aside and got a hiss for her effort.
‘There’s a novelty,’ quipped the man himself, as he strode past to the glass doors opening on to the deck and that barbecue he was so fond of.
‘Dad tips the clothes onto the table in the laundry and we take what we need when we want it.’
She had noticed the rumpled look worn by all three males in this house. Tomorrow she’d balance on her cast and iron some shirts.
‘Give away all my secrets, why don’t you?’ Cam returned, ruffling his son’s hair on the way past.
‘I don’t know anyone who likes ironing.’ Except Alison had, driving her crazy with her fussiness when it had come to clothes. The memory tugged, sent a small wave of
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