Page 75 of A Winter Wish

“Oh, um…sort of.” She thought of her and her mum’s attempts at blinis the previous Christmas—most of which had ended up in the bin. “I make a good spaghetti Bolognese,” she settled on.

There was more warmth in Shauna’s smile now. “Such comfort food.” Then she sighed. “I do wish you’d stuck with the cooking lessons yourself, Theo.”

Lexie had never heard the word “wish” sound so cutting. She wanted to reach out, lay a comforting hand on his arm—but she wasn’t sure she should, with his parents watching them.

“You know, Reuben from your school is a chef now—and he owns his own restaurant.”

Lexie waited for him to snap back, wanting him to snap—or to at least stand up for himself. But instead he just nodded—so unlike the Theo she’d come to know. “Good for Reuben.”

Shauna turned her attention to Lexie. “So, what else do you do, Lexie?” Lexie wondered if by saying she could make spaghetti Bolognese she had led Shauna to assume cooking was something she “did,” and decided, all things considered, to roll with that.

“Um…” She glanced at Theo for support, but obviously he couldn’t help her here. “I guess I travel a lot.”

There was a sigh from across the table from Patrick, barely hidden.

Shauna frowned. “Don’t be rude, Patrick.” She smiled at Lexie. “I’m so sorry, Lexie. Do tell us more.”

“Well, I mean there’s not a lot to tell, really.” If they thought Theo was unsuccessful, she hardly wanted to admit to moving around every six months—and was sure they wouldn’t take too favorably to the fact that her last job had been as a nanny. But as the meal passed in uncomfortable silence, she wished she had gone into the details. It felt like time was moving incredibly slowly—though it could only have been forty minutes, tops, by the time the plates were cleared and Patrick went back into the living room.

Theo made an excuse, telling his mum they had to get back to the farmhouse for a meeting, and Shauna didn’t question it, for which Lexie was immensely relieved. She was starting to feel a little guilty for having forced Theo to accept the invitation.

“Thank you for coming to see us, Theo,” Shauna said at the front door, kissing his cheek again. “I do wish you’d visit us a bit more, you know.”

“I’ll try,” Theo said noncommittally, and Shauna pursed her lips at the evasive answer.

Then she turned to Lexie. “It was lovely to meet you. I hope you have the most perfect time in Dublin this evening.”

It was said kindly, Lexie was sure of it. But she couldn’t help the words from slipping out, over a smile of her own. “Perfection is overrated.”

It got a small laugh of delight from Theo.

“But I’m sure we’ll have a great time, thank you.”

Theo said nothing as they got back into the car, and still nothing as he started the engine, turned around in the driveway.

Lexie let out a long breath. “Well.”

Theo ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah. Not what you expected?”

“I don’t know what I expected, really.”

And it wasn’t like his parents were horrible. They just weren’t warm. She could tell that Shauna had been trying, and perhaps she really did have Theo’s best interests at heart—she wouldn’t be the first mother to want something better for her son. But it was like she hadn’t noticed that Theo had been getting more and more tense throughout. So perhaps they were both products of their upbringing, in the end. And even though his parents were still together, Lexie couldn’t help wondering if they should be—did they even like each other? Or speak to each other? Or was that just where all relationships were destined to end up eventually?

“She cares about me,” Theo said, like he was reading her mind. “But I can’t help feeling that I’m a disappointment every time I see her. Like she wishes for something better.”

“I don’t think you’re a disappointment.” She wasn’t sure how much it was worth, but she said it anyway.

Theo glanced at her, something she couldn’t read in his expression. “I feel stupid sometimes, for caring about it. There’s nothing nasty and they weren’t ever abusive or anything—so it feels like I shouldn’t be hurt by it, you know? Like what do I really have to complain about?”

Lexie tapped her fingers against her thigh. “I’m not sure things need to be overtly nasty to be hurtful.” Over time, constantly feeling like you weren’t good enough could do its own damage, couldn’t it? Leave its own scars.

“I guess not.”

“My dad was never mean,” Lexie said. “He just wasn’t there.” And that, too, had left scars. She shook her head. “I’m sorry I made you go today—if you didn’t want to. It’s just…He tried to build a bridge with me, before he died. Richard. And the thing is, I might have allowed it, if we’d taken things a bit slower, so to speak. But he went right in for this big apology and it was too much. And now, a part of me is wishing I’d taken the time to listen to him, but another part is wondering if he even would have done it, if it hadn’t been for the cancer. And then I get really confused, because I don’t know how I feel about any of it—or even who I’m really grieving for.”

“I guess you can grieve the father you lost when you were seven, as well as the one who died last December. It’s OK that he wasn’t perfect—and it’s OK to feel sad about the fact that he’s not here anymore, even though he left you. I think it’s OK to feel however you feel—I don’t think grief is ever simple or straightforward, no matter the circumstances.”

Lexie looked out of the window. “Yeah. Maybe. I guess I’m working toward that—and trying to forgive him, too.”