4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The gate was open when I returned and Liv was parked on the drive. Looking a shade nonplussed, Connor was talking to her through her open window. I stopped and clambered out of the SUV.

Connor smiled at me then mouthed, ‘ Did you do this?’ and pointed at the roof of Liv’s car.

I nodded and jerked my head towards the house. ‘ Let her in,’ I mouthed back.

He looked at me curiously but opened her car door and gestured for her to climb out. She was carrying two ancient-looking bottles of wine, no doubt more expensive and more rare than any bottle I’d ever had before – and that was saying something because my mum was a wine snob.

I bolted inside. It would be best to give the others the tiniest warning. I hung up my coat and opened the door from the garage into the kitchen. The smell of food hit me and my stomach grumbled loudly. Trays of goodies were still laid out in the kitchen, covered with lids to keep them warm. ‘Hello, dear.’ Sigrid smiled at me.

‘You waited for me,’ I said dumbly.

She slipped an arm around my shoulders. ‘Of course we did.’

There was no ‘of course’ about it. Mum would never have delayed a meal for me. Being late – or walking out – would have been considered the height of rudeness on my part. Nothing came between Mum and her precious routine: dinner at 7pm, come what may.

‘I invited Liv,’ I blurted out to Sigrid. ‘She’s lonely.’

Sigrid’s eyes softened. ‘Well, we can’t have that, can we?’ Such was the depth of her compassion that she didn’t bat an eyelid at me inviting in the woman who had almost killed her – albeit Liv had been possessed at the time.

‘Gunnar…’ I started.

‘I’ll handle him,’ she promised. ‘Come on, let’s go in.’

As we entered the living room together, I announced loudly, ‘I’m back!’ All the men except Connor were still in front of the TV. The movie credits were just rolling up, so I doubted they minded too much that dinner was late.

Sidnee was snuggled up to Thomas, which made me smile. Fluffy, Loki and Shadow were playing quietly at the back of the room, the cat controlling everything like a master puppeteer as Fluffy watched him indulgently.

Gunnar looked up at me and I saw the moment Liv came in behind me by the way his face went from open and happy to stormy. He stood up. ‘What is she doing here?’ he spat.

Sigrid hurried over. ‘None of that, Bam-Bam. It’s Christmas.’

I heard Gunnar’s not-so-subtle whisper, ‘I’m not staying here if she is.’

Sig’s jaw tightened and her hands went to her hips. ‘You are staying – we are all staying. Bunny and Connor have worked incredibly hard to make this day special and you are going to enjoy it.’ The ‘or else’ hung unsaid in the air. Everyone else in the room had frozen, their eyes switching from Liv to Gunnar as if they were watching a tennis match.

‘Okay. Great!’ I said awkwardly, trying to cut through the tension. ‘Let’s eat!’

Liv was still carrying her two bottles of wine so I took them and placed them on the counter. Gunnar glared. ‘Best check the wine for poison,’ he growled loudly.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Liv’s shoulders slump and I glared at him, unconsciously mimicking Sigrid’s stance by placing my hands on my hips. ‘I invited her to join us. She’s alone and it’s Christmas, the perfect time to let bygones be bygones.’

Gunnar’s face was turning red now; only Sig’s gentle hand on his bicep was keeping him from exploding.

‘Maybe now would be a good time to apologise, Liv,’ I suggested in a low aside to her. If she waited a moment more, I wasn’t sure that Gunnar wouldn’t throw her bodily out of the house.

She nodded and cleared her throat. I could tell she was nervous, which was so unusual for her that it seemed downright weird. ‘Gunnar and Sigrid, I came to offer you a sincere apology.’ She noticed Stan and tacked on, ‘And Stan, of course. I wasn’t myself but I should have fought harder. Please forgive me. I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you.’

Sigrid offered Liv a warm smile. ‘I’ve already forgiven you, Liv. You weren’t responsible for your actions.’ She gave her husband a pointed look that he wilfully ignored.

Stan nodded. ‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t hold a grudge.’ It wasn’t the same as Sigrid’s open-hearted forgiveness but it was better than the death glare that Gunnar was offering.

The silence lengthened as all eyes focused on Gunnar, but still he said nothing. Liv had pushed him beyond the limits of his enormous heart. I got the impression that he could really hold a grudge so forgiveness would take time – maybe even centuries.

Finally, after the silence had become awkward, Gunnar rumbled, ‘Since my wife is so generous, I’ll give you a truce. For tonight.’

Liv smile weakly. ‘I’ll take it. Thank you. Thanks to all of you.’

She handed me her coat; in between doing that and walking to the dining room, her usual aplomb asserted itself. She sat at the table and looked around imperiously. She had somehow turned her apology into an opportunity to play queen. I couldn’t help but admire her.

Truce or not, Gunnar sat as far as he could away from her. Connor carved the turkey. I had assumed that Gunnar would do it but I guessed Sigrid thought that giving him any form of weapon would be a bad idea right now.

Everyone helped themselves from the laden platters and tureens. Connor put on some quiet Christmas music to fill the awkward silence that had fallen over us once again. Once all our plates were full, however, we started praising Sigrid and talking about the food, then bringing up old times. Soon everyone except Gunnar was laughing and talking.

I gorged myself on the delicious food, as did everyone else. We only pushed back from the table when we were too full to eat anything else. By the end of the meal, Gunnar had relaxed enough to laugh occasionally and even join in the conversation.

‘Since we have to wait until we have room for dessert and those amazing pies, let’s go over to the piano for a sing-along!’ I proposed excitedly.

‘Seriously?’ Stan groaned.

Connor shot daggers at him. ‘You’re a guest here,’ he reminded him, his tone suddenly dangerous.

Oh boy! I jumped in between the two testosterone-fuelled men. ‘Hey! Stan doesn’t have to sing if he doesn’t want to.’

‘If he isn’t man enough,’ Connor jibed.

Stan’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can sing like a lark. You’re going to sound like a dying racoon in comparison.’

Connor looked amused. ‘We’ll see, bear.’

‘You’re on.’

The men went to the piano. Okay, so Connor and Stan weren’t full of Christmas cheer and neither were Gunnar and Liv, but somehow that was what made it perfect: all families argue, and this imperfect family was mine.

I’d been amazed to discover that Connor, Gunnar and Sigrid could all play the piano. Gunnar had been practising since I’d found this goofy sing-along online story and had thought it might be fun – it was about a family that were trying to finish their Christmas shopping and get home before Santa arrived. The words were interspersed with Christmas songs.

I waited until Gunnar was warming up at the piano, then handed out copies to the others and we gathered round. Connor and Stan were eyeing each other and they both sang louder and louder as the songs progressed, their competitiveness rapidly zooming past amusing and landing firmly in hilarious territory. Thomas was sipping a coffee and watching with open amusement and Sidnee was crying tears of laughter as the two men bellowed songs about good cheer at each other.

Apart from Thomas and me – I was still on call – everyone was hip deep in wine or eggnog, so the atmosphere had gone from tense to light and tipsy. Everyone was talking – though Gunnar still kept a careful distance from Liv.

‘Who’s ready for gift giving!’ I shouted over the din.

Stan’s hand shot up first. ‘I am! Hop to it, Bunny!’ I could tell from his triumphant grin that he’d been waiting all night to say that.

I mock shot him with a finger gun and he grabbed his chest as if mortally wounded. ‘That’s the only bunny joke you get tonight, got it?’ I ordered.

‘Yes, oh great and powerful rabbit!’

I sighed, but Stan had been supplementing his nog with ’shine so it was no good talking to him now. He was battling his polar bear’s metabolism with enthusiasm.

I approached the Christmas tree and blinked: all the lights had gone from the tree. ‘What the heck?’ I said. ‘Where have the fairy lights gone?’

‘The same place as my gingerbread men!’ Sigrid scowled.

‘I said it wasn’t me!’ Stan protested.

Sigrid patted his hand. ‘I believe you, dear, but someone has definitely been stealing things!’

‘Let’s not worry about it now,’ I urged. ‘It’s present time!’

Connor was on his phone, eyeing his tree and barking instructions to the guards. Someone had breached his wards and he was not happy about it, even if all they’d purloined were gingerbread men and some fairy lights. When you considered that Connor had an entire room dedicated to fancy treasures, snatching the five-dollar battery-run lights and some cookies seemed a weird choice.

I tried to put it out of my mind as everyone gathered around our less-than-twinkling tree and started passing out gifts enthusiastically; we’d all brought some and there was a veritable mound of them.

It made my heart sing that all of these good people had gone to such efforts to make this Christmas party special.