At Their Very Best

Part 7

Your day with Denise was filled to the brim, taking you around Cheshire and a few surrounding towns before driving you to Manchester. Along the way, she points out many things. Where she went to school, where her sons did. The pub where she snuck her first cigarette and the house she and Tim, her first husband and Matty and Louis' dad, almost bought when they were first married. She was a well of nostalgia, and you tried to absorb all the information she was pouring at you.

She still had a few last-minute gifts to pick up, so you spent the time wandering through the city together trying to find the perfect stocking stuffers. Occasionally a few photographers managed to find your location, snapping photos of you both leaving stores or getting a coffee in the afternoon before scurrying away to find their next victim.

"Vultures," Denise grumbled. "At least we look fabulous," she conspired with a wink.

You laugh softly and don't argue with her. After walking around carrying shopping bags, you were tired, and your cheeks were sore from smiling as wide as you had all day. Your heart was overflowing with adoration for this woman and appreciate that Matty and Louis let you borrow her for the day.

She asks you about Australia and what Christmas would've been like if you'd spent it with your family as you pick up some last minute groceries from Tesco. You offer a short version, reciting a memory from when you were in primary school, and she doesn't pry further. At the register she smacks your hand away from the eftpos machine and pokes her tongue at you when you dispute her.

Back in the car, she points out more locations, fingernail tapping along the glass of the windscreen, telling stories of days past. She's not quiet in her hopes that Lincoln has already made a start on dinner as you pull down the dark driveway. Denise toots the horn three times, and you smile again. You like learning about their family but love discovering these little idiosyncrasies for yourself. Lincoln comes out the front door, the green wreath swinging, pulling his coat on.

You watch from the passenger seat as Matty's mum greets her husband with a kiss after he opens the car door for her. It feels like watching a scene inside a snow globe, or perhaps an old Hollywood film, the two lovers reunited after their time apart. Lights around the house twinkle in the dark, the cold air painting a picture of a heavy winter as the pine tree glows in the front window, reflecting onto the icy ground outside.

You admire the way Lincoln stares at his wife, his whole life, like there was nobody else in the world he'd rather be with. Your heart swells at the way Denise folds her arms around him, wrapping him in her love.

"C'mon, kid. Need your help in the kitchen," Lincoln called through the open door.

You nod and unclick your seatbelt.

~~~

Denise and Lincoln have already gone to bed for the evening, and Matty's been quietly dozing for the last hour on the couch next to you. He's on his back, one arm draped across his chest and the other resting across your thighs over the blanket you're sharing with his brother.

You're surprised by how much you enjoyed Louis's company. Instantly clicking and making jokes to each other. Earlier that evening you'd overheard Lincoln and Matty discussing how you and his younger brother were thick as thieves and it had warmed you through.

"I'm not supposed to ask you about your family," Louis says quietly next to you.

You turn to him, surprised, but he's still watching the TV.

"I'm not supposed to ask, so this is me not asking."

He turns his head to you finally, and you consider how to answer his question. You don't want to go into the gory details because you don't think it's necessary, but you want to give him something.