June 28
I pulled into the driveway of my modest terraced house in Kent in the company car, the engine still humming. Exhausted from the day’s meeting, I lingered for a moment, gathered my briefcase, thanked the driver and, with a sigh, whispered to myself, The homecoming ritual is about to begin.
Katie emerged from the garden gate in a flowing, colourful summer dress that seemed to have been plucked straight from Julys blooming palette. She always chose her frocks to match the month, and this one was pure sunshine. Her hair fell in a silky cascade over her shoulders, and she quickened her step, flashing me a gracious smile.
Kevin, weve been waiting for this all week youll never guess, Ive secured an exceptional landscape architect for our plot. Everyones lining up for him, but I managed to get us on his schedule, she said, eyes glinting.
I wanted to ask, How much?, but the ritual demanded a kiss first. I obliged, pulling her gently into my arms.
Katie, you look radiant, I murmured, wrapping my hands around her slender waist. Ive missed you terribly.
Ive missed you too, she replied, leaning in, momentarily forgetting the architect.
Is Natalie home? I asked, thinking of our neighbour.
Shes at her friends next door the Dolin familys daughter, Katie answered.
So its just us, I said, feeling the longing surge again. I headed for the shower, then led her upstairs to the bedroom.
Katie, I found a boutique I love. Ive already bought something for you a dress thats simply breathtaking, she enthused.
Do we have to wear dresses? I teased, pulling her closer. You could go without anything on; youre perfect just as you are.
Later, after shed slipped into a new outfit, I shrugged, Ill take a look later. I dressed, hoping thered be something decent to eat without booking a table at a restaurant.
Of course were waiting for you, she said, Mrs. Anne has prepared everything.
Mrs. Anne, our efficient housekeeper, always seemed to have everything under control. Katie continued, Arent I the one bringing the right people to spruce up our home? Isnt it my credit that we have new furniture?
The old set hasnt even had time to look tired, I replied.
And the curtains? Katie added, admiring the colour match. You see how they complement everything?
I appreciate it all, and I never hold back on finances, I said, swallowing my pride so as not to hurt her feelings.
Kevin, Ive got a salon appointment! she cried, a flicker of panic crossing her face. Its a toptier place I booked a month ago; I cant be late. Dont worry, Nat will be here soon she asked if I could bring her along.
Where to bring her? I asked.
To the salon, she answered. Its not too early for her; let her get used to looking after herself.
Let the lads do the courting, I muttered under my breath.
Exactly, but we must be at the very top of the game, she declared, flipping her bright hair in time with her words.
I ate lunch alone while the house was quiet. Soon after, Nat burst through the doorway.
Daddy! she squealed, clinging to me, Wheres Mum?
Didnt she tell you about the salon? I asked.
Oh, shes gone! I asked her to take me, I need a manicure.
Nat, your nails are flawless, I praised, though she rolled her eyes at my outdated compliment.
She whined about the colour of polish, claiming it was no longer fashionable. I suggested she might have switched because a new trend had struck her.
Dad, seriously, she groaned, Im just a girl
Im a girl, Im a girl come here, I said, planting a kiss on her forehead, I still love you.
That evening Katie returned, twirling like a fresh breeze, and asked, What do you think?
I tried to gauge what had changed, then answered safely, Stunning. Youre absolutely gorgeous.
By nightfall I was weary, even though Id only been home a single day.
Katie, I forgot to tell youMarjorie called, worried about me, I said.
Oh, Auntie Marjorie Ill give her a ring tomorrow, she replied.
Will you drive there?
Well all go together, I replied. Its not a village, its a market townabout a fourhour drive. Doesnt matter, well make it.
She sighed, Too bad, and I drifted off, muttering, Too bad, Ill have to travel alone.
I never liked long trips for visits, yet I couldnt ignore Aunt Marjorie, who was practically a second mother after my own left me ten years ago.
I set off in my car, rolled down the windows, and let the wind rush in, feeling lighthearted.
Auntie Marjorie! You really made it out to see me? she greeted, her seventyyearold smile warm and inviting. No formalities, just honest conversation.
Sorry, Aunt Marjorie, its been a year, I said, You know how the road calls.
She teased, You restless soul, ruffling my hair affectionately. Sit down, love, Ill feed you.
It felt like being a child again, her homemade stew filling the table.
Im no good at city cooking, I admitted, You probably eat out all the time.
Katie and Nat love restaurants, but I prefer homecooked meals. Ill bring you some biscuits I bought in Brighton, I offered.
Dont bother, Ive got everything, she said.
Im just a cheeky nephew who wants to spoil you, I replied.
She looked at me with pride, noting how Id built my career from the ground up.
Katie, youre always travelling, how long can you keep circling the country?
Mostly up north, she replied.
Its freezing up there, I joked.
Now its scorching here, she laughed. You come and go as you please.
After the meal, I took her hand, kissed her soft, plump fingers, and whispered, Thank you, Aunt Marjorie.
I called her Auntie M fondly; nobody else did.
Would you like some redcurrant squash? she asked.
Nothing beats your squash, its like liquid sunshine, I replied.
She sighed, I worry, dear. Youre a family man, yet youre rarely home it must be hard.
I sipped the squash, noting its sweet tang. Hard? No, its the opposite. The farther I am from her, the lighter I feel.
She shivered at my words. What are you saying, Kevin? Why stay apart?
I tried to calm her, Dont be frightened, Auntie M. Ive never tasted a squash like yours.
Its because its made from my own berries why stay away? she pressed.
If I stayed closer, Id have smothered her long ago, I chuckled.
Who? she asked, puzzled.
From sunrise to midnight its just talk of salons, boutiques, colours, masters, makeup, the Dolins opinions all day, every day. So distance suits me. I come home, spend a few hours, give the money, and leave again. Thats my rhythm.
What about Nat?
She’s a carbon copy of Katie. Same tastes. Three years ago I gifted her a home library, picked the books myself they sit unread now. I prefer paper, but ebooks are handy on the road. I tried to get Katie and Nat into reading, but theyd rather scroll on their phones looking for the next nailtech.
Aunt Marjorie gasped, I always support family, but in that case
No, no, Im not changing a thing. I chose my wife. Wanted beauty, got it. The whole façade, the guests, the salonsI love her anyway.
What about little Nat?
Shell be just as lovely as her mother, will marry a good lad, and live a charmed life.
So youll leave again soon?
Yes, just for a month, maybe two weeks. Enough to recharge.
Your job is your holiday, then, she said.
That evening I gathered my things, slipped a few pounds onto the kitchen table, tucked a jar of my own redcurrant jam into my bag, and kissed Aunt Marjorie goodbye.
Shes the only one Ive ever admitted that I enjoy travelling for work, and that everything in my life fits togetherjust like Katie, my wife, and the world Ive built.
