fancy looking crib.
“And there’s a matching changing table too,” Josh added. “We just have to assemble them. And then we can start decorating the baby’s room.”
And of course, Liv began to cry again. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she sobbed.
“Because hormones are horrible,” Josh whispered. “Can I make you some hot chocolate?”
She nodded and sat down on the couch and pulled the crib box over, pulling at the wrapping paper.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, looking at me and Hamish. “We saw it in a store but it was really expensive.”
Hamish went over to her and put his arm around her. “Josh adores you,” he said. “I can see why you moved half a world away for him.”
She nodded and wiped her snotty face with the back of her hand. “Who knows, you might find someone worth moving half a world away for too?” she said, glancing at me.
Oh, okay, wow.
Hamish laughed, blushing bright red. “No pressure at all,” he said, then mouthed sorry at me.
The thing was, I didn’t really mind.
“Here, let me get you my present,” Hamish said instead. He shot up and collected one of the boxes he’d put under the tree, and he handed it to Liv.
She unwrapped it and opened the box, and this time, she squealed with delight. She pulled out an assortment of candies, crisps, crackers, and a black-and-yellow tube. “Oh, hell yes,” she said.
Josh appeared, carrying a mug of fresh hot chocolate. He saw what she was holding and he stopped. “Oh no.”
Hamish laughed. “There’s a few tubes. Easier to bring over than the big jars.”
Liv turned it around to show me. Vegemite.
“That shit is nasty,” Josh said.
“Our baby will be raised on it,” Liv said proudly. She unscrewed the cap and squeezed a small amount onto her finger and tasted it. “Oh, I’ve missed this.”
Hamish grinned. “And there’s Chicken Crimpies, Violet Crumbles, Smith’s chips, Twisties, Maltesers, and whatever else I could find.”
Liv hugged him. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
Hamish collected the other two gifts he’d brought with him and handed one to Josh and the other Liv. “These are just a little something from home.”
They took their gifts and began to open them, and Hamish came back and sat on my lap. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you. We didn’t go to the Home Market to get you that can of beans.”
I chuckled. “I don’t need anything,” I said. “Being here is enough.”
He leaned down and kissed me. “Merry Christmas, Ren.”
“Merry Christmas, Haims.”
He grinned and wiggled his bony ass on my legs. “Ow.”
He laughed and Liv pulled out a hoodie, which she hugged and cried over, and Josh put his new matching cap on his head. They appeared to be of some red-and-white sporting team, presumably Australian. “Love it, thank you,” Liv said.
“I tried to think of the most Australian things I could get you,” Hamish said, still on my lap. “Without looking like a Crocodile Dundee parody.”
Liv laughed. “And your gift,” she said, handing Hamish a box. He made no effort to move from my lap, and I was quite content to let him sit there. He opened the box and pulled out some thermal underwear and socks. “Oh my God, I need these!” he cried. “Now I can give Ren back his.”
Liv and Josh both looked at me, and I laughed. “Very genuinely don’t want them back.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be prepared,” Liv said. “There’s some gloves in there too.”
“I’m going to have to go shopping for a lot,” Hamish replied. “Boots. I need proper boots that aren’t Gucci, apparently. Then I can give Ren back the ones I borrowed.”
“I don’t mind,” I offered gently, giving him a squeeze. Then I mumbled into his shoulder, “How about we clean up the breakfast mess?”
“Good idea.” He put the box on the table, gave his sister another hug, then we cleared the table. We cleaned everything up and Josh and Liv had begun to pull the crib pieces out of the box, Hamish declared that he, Chutney, and I were going for a walk.
Boots and coats on the three of us, Hamish pulled on his stocking cap, the pink one that matched his coat, and smiled at me. “We all ready?”
I grinned at him as I put my own hat on. “Yes, sir.”
So out we went, and Hamish got as far as the porch. “Oh, holy shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, fixing Chutney’s lead.
“It’s freezing,” he breathed, plumes of steam for breath.
“Yep. Not sure how long Chutney will be out here