Christmas for Beginners - Carole Matthews Page 0,30
catalogues that Bev likes to browse.
‘Sit, sit,’ I say. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Dinner’s nearly ready. Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee?’
Lucas shoots me a look to say that I’m babbling. I shut up.
‘I’m good, thanks.’ She slides into the bench seat at the table.
I’m bowled over by her poise. At her age, I was a total wimp and, as you know, I’m not all that much better now. I can’t help but admire her but – and don’t judge me for this – I can’t help wondering what she’s doing with Lucas.
There are times when Lucas is very mature – however, there are an equal number of times when he’s just a lost and lonely boy. I can’t put my finger on why, but I’m worried for him. From the outset this doesn’t seem like an equal relationship, but then some would say that’s the same for me and Shelby. I’m making snap judgements and I shouldn’t. It’s nice for Lucas to be in love, but I only hope that he doesn’t get hurt as he’s doing so well. Any small thing can upset the equilibrium and first love is always a big thing. As you can imagine, I’m not going to be the one to tell Lucas that.
I serve up my modest offering, wishing it was something infinitely more impressive. Aurora greets it as if I’m handing over something cooked by a celebrity chef.
‘Oh, wow. This looks totally delicious, Molly. Thank you.’
‘It’s no trouble at all,’ I say as I slip in beside them, feeling ever so slightly gooseberryish. ‘Glad that you’re here.’
Lucas shoots me a ‘shut up’ look again. I shut up.
Yet, even with my speaking ban, during the course of our thrown-together dinner, I find out that Aurora is at art college studying textiles, she’s been writing and performing poetry for the last two years and that she still lives with her family on the other side of town. She’s nicely spoken, polite and chatty. Lucas, I notice, hangs on her every word. He is clearly smitten and that makes me smile.
‘Thank you, Molly,’ she says as she delicately dabs at her mouth with piece of kitchen roll that serves as a napkin. I did fold it into a triangle, though. ‘Can I help you to clear up?’
‘It won’t take me a minute. Are you going to show Aurora around the farm?’
‘It’s too cold,’ Lucas says. ‘We’re going to go into my room to write together.’
‘Right.’ What do I say to that? I’ve never had to deal with Lucas taking a girl – woman – into his room before. Do I get them to leave the door open, hover outside, or are they at an age where I just leave them to get on with it? Has he tidied it up or is it still a health-hazard? Surrogate parenting is tricky. I wish Shelby were here to advise me, but he doesn’t even know about Aurora yet.
They get up from the table and leave me to tidy up and wash the dishes. As I wipe round with a tea towel, I can hear laughter coming from Lucas’s room – mainly Aurora’s – which is nice but also weird. It’s even more strange when I can’t hear a single sound. What are they doing? Concentrating on their writing? I flipping hope so. I feel I’m dealing with a Lucas that I don’t know, one that’s emerging from being a child into a man.
Eeeek.
Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Bev. She’ll know what to do.
Chapter Nineteen
I try to settle into reading, then try listening to something soothing on the radio, but I feel as if I’m on high-alert to every sound – or lack thereof – from Lucas’s bedroom. I want to check on the dogs and get them off my bed, but I daren’t go near that part of the caravan or Lucas will think I’m snooping on them. This is traumatic.
About two hours later, when I’m just considering that I need to head to my room and how to approach that scenario, Lucas and Aurora emerge. Lucas is definitely flushed and Aurora is more dishevelled than when she went in.
‘Aurora’s going now,’ Lucas says.
‘Oh, right. Good. Lovely to meet you.’
‘Thank you for having me, Molly. Supper was delightful.’
‘My pleasure. It’s nice for Lucas to bring a . . . friend . . . home.’
I get the usual death stare.
‘Aurora’s coat?’ I remind him.
So he fusses with helping her on with it, while she giggles.