She shook the thought away like the fantasy it was, but every time she looked over, Skye so happy, and he so earnest as he leaned in to talk to her daughter, her chest hurt a little more.
A couple of hours later, when Skye’s fingertips were covered in red lines, but she’d performed a fair rendition of the first few bars from ‘Hound Dog’, they decided to call it a day. Lucas and Skye approached her together after she finished clapping, each taking a bow.
‘I was really sad, because this is the best gift ever, and I didn’t have a gift to give to Trouble,’ Skye said, overtly innocent, eyes to the ceiling, and Megan thought uh oh here comes a scheme. ‘So I thought because I didn’t have a present, I could give him you.’
My child, the pimp. Cheers kid, Megan thought.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘I would give him the gift of…’ She turned to Lucas, who mouthed something to her. ‘…the gift of your company,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Tonight. For dinner. Grandma wanted me to make our own pizza together. And you don’t like pizza, so you can go with Trouble.’
‘Hey, I like pizza!’ Megan argued. ‘And if you owe Lucas a present, why am I going to dinner? Shouldn’t you be going to dinner?’
Skye moved in closer, and put her hand up to whisper in her mother’s ear. ‘He said the best Christmas present he could have would be to spend time with you.’
Megan looked over at him and raised her eyebrows. ‘Way to manipulate my child, Bright.’
He held his hands up in a ‘who, me?’ gesture.
‘Mum,’ Skye grabbed her hand, ‘this will be good. Promise.’
She didn’t know how her child had this way of saying things like she was a fortune teller, but Megan always believed her.
‘Okay, okay. Let me go get changed.’ She stood up.
‘You don’t have to,’ Lucas said, smirking as he took in her current outfit of oversized jumper and leggings with reindeer on them.
‘Well, it would serve you right after getting my child to pimp me out to pay her debts. Sadly, I have too much pride to be seen around here in these clothes.’
‘Lucky me,’ Lucas said and stuck his tongue out, his eyes following her as she ran up the stairs.
‘What does pimping out mean?’ Skye asked, dragging his attention back.
‘It’s when you decorate a car really outlandishly,’ Lucas said quickly. ‘So…excited about Christmas?’
Skye tilted her head to the side, eyebrows raised. She knew when adults were lying, but she let it go, with more important things to cover. ‘You’re not going to cause trouble, are you? Because I like coming back here, and having a family. And I don’t want us to never come back again.’
Lucas held out his pinky finger to link with hers. ‘Promise, kid. No trouble, only making amends.’ He paused, seeing her confused look. ‘Making it up to your mum.’
‘What do you have to make up for?’
He sighed, his light eyes looking up to the ceiling. ‘I have no idea. But your mum was my best friend in the whole world. And she’s been gone a really long time. I want to make sure she doesn’t leave again. At least without saying goodbye.’
He sat back on the sofa, and Skye moved over to sit next to him, staring at the floor.
‘I asked Mum if you were my dad. She said you weren’t.’ Skye looked at him. ‘Is that true?’
‘Apparently so, kid,’ Lucas shrugged.
‘I wouldn’t mind if you were,’ Skye said quietly, tapping her fingertips together as she stared into the distance.
‘And I would be honoured to have a daughter like you.’ He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘But we get to be friends, right? Really great friends.’
‘Will you teach me some more guitar before I go home?’
‘I’ll have you performing on a stage before you go home, just you wait!’ Lucas nudged her and she laughed, until they both saw Megan coming down the stairs. Skye grinned at Lucas. Megan’s brown hair glowed in the firelight of the living room, and she had a black fitted dress with grey tights with her knee-high black boots. In her ears, novelty Christmas earrings twinkled, little silver stars with tinsel streamers. She looked radiant. Skye thought she’d never seen her mum look so…alive before. Like she’d been walking around in watercolours and now suddenly she was vibrant oil pastels in thick, bright lines.
‘Ready to go?’ she asked Lucas, who stood up and nodded wordlessly with an open-mouthed smile.
‘You look lovely, Mum!’ Skye said, hugging her.
‘Seconded,’ Lucas added.
‘Thanks.’ She shot Lucas a smile, before returning her focus to Skye. ‘So what’s the plan tonight?’
‘Me and Grandma make pizza, and I’m playing chess with Granddad, then we’re going to watch a film and I will be in bed before ten,’ Skye nodded, halo in place.
‘Ten? ’ Megan raised an eyebrow.
‘That’s what Grandma said!’
‘Hmm, well me and your Grandma are going to have words then,’ Megan half-teased, but really, wasn’t that what this whole thing had been about? After telling her mother she was going out for dinner, and might be home late, she kissed Skye goodnight, and they set out.
She stood in her driveway and looked at his car.
‘You are kidding.’
The same little red Micra sat before her, sad and worn, and yet somehow, infinitely charming.
‘You still drive this heap of crap? You’re a teacher! Do they even let you onto school grounds with this death trap?’ she exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat, looking at everything as if for the first time.
‘You still have a tape deck?!’
‘I have an iPod adaptor too, madam.’ He stuck out his tongue as the car wheezed into first gear. ‘And I do actually have a grown-up car sitting on my driveway. I hadn’t sold this yet and thought you’d enjoy the trip down memory lane.’
She shuffled in her seat and looked at him. ‘Some parts of it.’
‘Only fun, I promise.’
He looked at the road, carefully considering the country lanes, and she was suddenly back in those summers where she’d put her feet up on the dash, dozing behind her sunglasses as he’d driven them around, no reason, just for something to do. Music played loud, bag of crisps and cans of coke in the back seat, until they found some deserted space to sit with the doors open, and look out at the greenery, read a book or nap. Later, once they’d become a couple, those drives had a more specific purpose.
She looked at Lucas, trying to find the exact changes of age. His hair was shorter, his face softer somehow, the stubble more fitting for a grown man than a teenager who could never seem to even it out. He was painfully beautiful, the pouting lips still capable of pouting, even now whilst he was softly humming along to the radio. She wondered how she looked to him now, whether she’d matured into the woman he’d expected, or whether she looked the same. Or worse, she was some aged disappointment, simply a mother and nothing more. Not that it mattered. They were being friendly. That was it.
‘Where are we going for dinner?’
‘Surprise!’