‘I see you’re eating sweets – something’s up,’ I note, grimacing slightly as the sourness tickles my taste buds.
‘I see you’re avoiding my questions,’ she responds, stoically not letting the fizziness affect her or taking her eyes off me.
I shrug, popping the other half in my mouth, only to repeat the pursed-lip, shiver process.
‘Christmas can be a stressful time of year,’ she says pointing a milk bottle at me, her eyes assessing me knowingly. With my brain being so consumed with thoughts of Devon and the Christmas fair last night, I had completely forgotten to check in with Hope and see how she was coping after yesterday’s email.
‘Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t check in with you last night. I can’t believe you let me have the afternoon off to go skateboarding with Devon when you needed me. Are you feeling OK about the magazine?’ I ask, my voice softening.
Hope looks at me and lets out a chuckle. ‘Don’t be daft, you’ve gone above and beyond with all your ideas and have kept me sane. Let’s enjoy this magical weekend and then Monday, we’ll Tony Stark it and put our heads together the minute we step foot in the office, OK?’ Hope says with a slight wobble to her voice.
I nod my support and not try not to let her see me gulp. I believe in us – we’ll figure it out.
‘Besides, Devon is only here for a short time. You deserve to enjoy him and I’m fine – it’s just this damn dog,’ Hope explains, putting a handful of assorted pick a mix in her mouth.
‘You’ve got a dog?’ I say loudly, then hastily look around for Jess. How had he not told me yet?
Hope hunches over and scans the tent too. ‘No and that’s the problem. I’m actually really considering surprising him for Christmas but look at me. I’ve not even got the thing yet and it’s already stressing me out,’ she whispers.
‘Aww but you’re going to be great doggy parents and you know Jess is going to love it and squish it and take care of it,’ I say, unable to hide the teasing in my tone as I wrap my arms around Hope and snuggle into her.
‘You’re not funny,’ she tells me, pushing me off her. ‘But you and Devon would make for great kiddie parents,’ she adds, getting me back. I pinch another cola bottle and pull a face. She shakes her head at me. ‘If you don’t want a dog, you could always adopt Devon, I think Jess would be just as thrilled.’ I chuckle.
How I had managed to keep Devon a secret for ten years, I have no idea. I have to admit it feels good being able to have that part of my life out in the open even if it does mean Hope wants to talk more about my feelings. Before Devon, it had been easier to just pass off that I was simply not an emotional person and was happy keeping myself to myself. Hope knew my mother could sometimes get me down, that I had been bullied at school, and I wasn’t very lucky with men, but I was happy around her and Jess, so everything was cool. I am who I am and all that, but ever since Devon showed up it’s like she keeps testing the keys to see which one fits in the lock. She certainly gets best friend points for recognising that maybe there was more to my often-guarded state, and that more came in the form of a six-foot-four superhero.
‘Uh, take these off me,’ Hope says, as we both go quiet, eating pick a mix and staring into the distance contemplating parenthood.
‘Would you prefer an avocado doughnut?’ I tease. ‘But really? Healthy doughnuts – I can’t believe the thought even crossed your mind when we have Mr and Mrs Rolph if we want doughnuts,’ I say, pulling a gummy ring from the bag as I take it off her and glance over at the children who are happily singing Christmas songs and throwing handfuls of sprinkles on their creations, which look marvellous and magical.
‘You certainly get points for avoiding questions. Do you not think you should talk to him about how you feel?’ Hope says, referring to her initial question that I have done a rather brilliant job of avoiding.
‘What? Mr Rolph knows how much I love his doughnuts.’ As my words hit the airwaves, I clock how they sound and nearly choke on my candy ring. Hope doubles over, hand on her side, cackling like a hyena and tears are streaming down my crimson face.
‘What’s so funny?’ Jess asks, making his way over to our table with a tray of mulled wine and Devon by his side. I wipe at my eyes as Hope tries to stand up straight but when she looks at me, another cackle and snort let loose between the two of us. We haven’t even had a sip of mulled wine yet.
I do a double take of Devon, wondering why he’s not with Ruby and then I shoot a look at Jess who gives me an innocent grin. ‘He’s off the clock today and I don’t think the man needs anymore fashion tips,’ he says patting Devon on the back.
‘Thanks, man,’ Devon replies, his hands together, as he nods in gratitude with a shy smile on his face. I am just about to pop a fizzy peach in my mouth, content with the four of us together, when Devon walks over to me, leans down and bites the whole thing out of my fingertips.
18
‘OK, here it goes. Is everyone ready with their tickets? The number is: 5264,’ Hope announces to the gathered crowd. The adults are sipping on their cocoa or mulled wine; the children are already munching on their decorated gingerbread which Devon, Jess and I have just been giving out; and the sound of Cliff Richard singing can be heard softly in the background. Our stall is all nearly cleared away, but we’ve taken a brief pause to round up all the raffle entrants to see who the winner of our communal gingerbread house is. Everyone is smiling and looking around as we wait for the winner to wave their ticket in celebration.
‘Wave it, sweetheart. Tell Hope it’s you.’ I turn to my left and see Emily, with her little boy of two years old in her arms, encouraging him to hold aloft their ticket. Emily is a single mum and our town’s seamstress. All those gorgeous handmade pieces I have been telling you about are her creations; she is simply magic with a needle and thread. Her beautiful little boy Barney, with his shocking white hair and blue eyes, is as cute as can be. They couldn’t be more deserving of this treat. I clap my hands feeling elated when Barney shyly waves the ticket and Hope spots them. It’s clear to see Hope is pleased with this outcome too as she makes her way over to Barney and gives him a high five and Emily a giant hug.
Today has been a huge success. We had so many entrants into the competition and I think pretty much everyone in town stopped by the stall to decorate a cookie. The winning gingerbread house had been announced earlier along with the winner of Emily’s craft competition and Mrs May’s “guess how many sweets in the bottle” game. Our winning house was a family of four who had just moved to village and were eager to join in with the festivities. They had created a gorgeous replica of the village square with fluffy grass frosting and a beautiful tree and you could see the kids had been allowed to do most of it. It was a sure-fire winner and a lovely way of welcoming the family to Springhollow.
As the crowd begin to disperse, I congratulate Emily and Barney with hugs and high fives of my own while Devon introduces himself making Barney come out of his shell as he tugs Devon’s leg – Devon immediately squats down to the little boy’s level as Barney whispers, ‘Are you Superman?’
‘What makes you say that?’ Devon asks in playful whisper and a beaming grin.