Free A Family This Christmas by Sue MacKay

warmth through her. She held her breath, waited for the explosion of pain that followed such memories. It didn’t happen. Now, there was a first. The day was going from weird to weirder. First she’d sent an email to Mum and Dad that had involved more than
hello, how are you.
Now she’d recalled something about Alison that hadn’t sent her heart plummeting to her toes.
    Marcus said, ‘Dad says it’s a waste of time.’
    ‘Your dad’s a busy man.’ She didn’t dare look around to see if Cam had heard. She’d bet her crutches he had. The man had ears everywhere. Putting a folded towel on the couch beside her, she reached into the basket for another one. ‘I bet he does the most important things first, and then there’s probably no time left for other jobs like ironing.’ Sticking up for Cam now, eh? What was that about? Plain old empathy for a man who at times appeared overwhelmed with everything, that’s what.
    Despite her determination not to look for him, her gaze drifted sideways, searching, finding him standing in the middle of the kitchen, a plate of chops in one hand, a bottle of cooking oil in the other, and a bemused expression on his face.
    She winked.
    His bemusement intensified.
    Astonishment made her mouth gape. Since when did she do winks? Never, ever. So she’d just proved what a moron she was, winking at the man who’d opened up his home to her. Winks and lechery were synonymous.
    ‘You’re dribbling.’ Cam winked back.
    A deep-bellied laugh rolled up her throat and spilled between them. A muscle-relaxing, heart-warming, pants-wetting-if-she-wasn’t-careful laugh. Smudging her moist eyes with the back of her hand, she struggled to contain the merriment before she embarrassed herself.
    Cam probably already thought she was nuts.
    But when she finally looked at him he wore that smile, only this time it was wider, softer, more heart-melting than she’d seen before.
    He said, ‘You’re nuts.’
    See? ‘I know.’ And I haven’t laughed like that for a year.
    Caution, Jenny. Two days after meeting Cam you’re lightening up on the stress levels, the gloom is lifting and you’re starting to see the world in colour rather than a grey monotone. Be very careful. You could be in for a fall.
    ‘You’ve got a message,’ Marcus called from out on the deck. ‘Want your tablet?’
    ‘Yes, please.’ She hadn’t meant to leave it outside but when she’d realised what she’d done she’d been comfortably ensconced on the couch. Not that she ever got much in the way of emails these days. She had to stay in touch with people for that.
    Mum had replied. No surprise there. She’d be worried about her accident, had probably booked a flight up to see her and make sure she was looking after herself.
I shouldn’t have told them.

    Darling Jenny, sorry to read about your broken ankle. That can be debilitating. The doctor sounds nice, taking you in like that when he’s probably already very busy. I expect that you’re doing all you can to help him. Big hugs and lots of love, Mum.

    Huh? Where were the questions? The demands to be careful? The details of the flight she was arriving on? Was this Mum’s way of telling her it was time to stop moving and settle somewhere?
    ‘Who emailed you?’ Marcus asked.
    ‘My mother.’ I think.
    ‘You’re lucky.’ That sweet little face turned sad.
    ‘Yes, I am. But you’ve got your dad and Andrew.’ Neither replaced his mother. She got that. She had her parents but they didn’t fill the gap left by Alison. ‘They love you heaps.’ She wouldn’t say they’d always be there for Andrew because no one could predict that with absolute certainty. Look what had happened to her for believing she’d have Alison in her life for ever.
    ‘I love my mum heaps.’ Marcus stared at the floor, his hair falling across his eyes.
    Reaching out, she pulled him near and sat him on the couch beside her, away from the washing. ‘Of course you do. Mums are