Christmas Eve
He shook off the excess snow onto the rug, which was becoming more sodden the longer he stood there. Running a warm hand through his greying hair, Charles Carson noticed that there was an eerie silence throughout his modest house. His wife had taken ill this morning, but he still expected to hear the faint noise of the telly coming from the lounge room.
"Els?"
There was no answer. He walked through the hallway, and placed the keys in the bowl on the sideboard. Surely she's not still in bed, he thought to himself as he scanned the cozy lounge room and the adjoining kitchen. Still no sign of his wife. He climbed the stairs and noticed that he saw a familiar figure sitting on the edge of their bed. Charles just stood in the doorway staring at his wife of 15 years, Elsie.
Her hair was down today, and she was free of makeup. A rarity, even when they were home. Yet didn't look anywhere near her age of forty. Today though, she looked preoccupied. Like she'd been chewing on her lip again. Elsie continued to stare towards the door of their ensuite, ignoring her husband's presence on the threshold of their room.
"Els?"
She turned towards him and with a forced smile, "Sorry, I didn't hear you love. Million miles away."
Charles sat beside her on the bed, "How are you feeling lass? Better than this morning?"
"Mmmhmm, fine fine. I went to the doctor today."
That's so unlike Elsie to go to the doctor without being awfully ill, Charles thought. "I didn't think that you were that sick dear."
"Neither did I, but there was something I needed to double check." Elsie left the sentence hanging, waiting for Charles to coax it out of her.
"Okay, I'll bite. What was it?" Charles tried.
Elsie took Charles' hand and held it to her chest. "Charles, you know how much I love you, don't you?"
Charles tried desperately to find her eyes to gauge where she was heading with this. "Elsie, I love you more than I can say. How can you even ask me that? What's wrong?"
Elsie chuckled as tears threatened to fall, "Nothing's wrong, but would you mind terribly if we had an extra guest for Christmas lunch tomorrow?"
Her smile was brilliant, radiant, and gave away the game. Well, at least Charles thought it did. He couldn't believe that he'd heard what Elsie had alluded to. So just to be sure Charles felt compelled to check his suspicions.
"Elsie, do you mean to say…?" Charles' throat went dry as she nodded her confirmation.
Unable to control the swelling sensation in his chest or the tears that welled in his eyes, Charles pulled her into a tight embrace. Charles felt euphoric, and if he let Elsie go, that he would surely float away.
"I take it you're pleased," Elsie sighed into the nook of his neck.
Charles took her clean, pretty face in his large hands, "Elsie, I don't think I've been this happy since," his voice became a whisper, "since the last time."
Elsie pressed a kiss into his left hand, "I know."
"Do you know how far along you are?"
"The doctor seemed to think about ten or eleven weeks?"
His ears couldn't believe the number, "Ten or eleven weeks?! Els, that's fantastic! That's the furthest you've been, you know."
"Yes, and the doctor seemed to think that at this stage there isn't any indicators for a miscarriage."
"And what about everything else? Tests? Ultrasounds?"
Elsie knew Charles would ask these questions. It was only natural considering their history in this field.
"She said that we could book an appointment for an ultrasound next week, and we could see how we go with that before looking at extra testing."
"So how do you feel Elsie? Are you scared after," he gulped, "after the trouble we've had."
The trouble being the eight years they tried to have a baby. To turn to their dynamic duo, into a dynasty, with generations of Carsons to follow. But it was to no avail, and they gave up. On her 38th birthday, Elsie told Charles that enough was enough. She was exhausted, he was drained; and if they were to continue on this fixation, it promised to be the ruin of them.
"Of course, but I'm glad of the fact that I'm this far along. I cannae focus too hard on the negatives."
"You know that I'm here if you get scared don't you?"
"I should jolly well hope so Charles. I hardly got this way on my own." Her smile reinforced jest and mirth.
"Well then Mrs. Carson. I do believe that there is something that I have been remiss to do since I found out this news."
"What's that?"
"I believe that I owe the mother of my child a kiss of gratitude for my early Christmas present."
Elsie smiled, "You'd best be quick about it then, Mr. Carson."
One year (and one day) later…
Charles had finally got the streaming channel to work through the television, whilst s rotund little lad happily bounced in his new seat from Father Christmas.
Charles clapped his hands together as he turned towards his five-month old son, who was contentedly blowing bubbles.
"Now, young Harry. You best come sit with your old man for your very first Ashes experience."
He picked up Harry and sat on the lounge, "Now see that bloke there, Harry? That's Alistair Cook. A bit of a looker, not unlike your father. And a brilliant batsman, somewhat unlike your father."
A soft gurgling was the response from the heavy-cheeked babe.
"And what pray tell are you doing Charles Carson?" A Scottish brogue lilted from the doorway. "Having our son out of bed at this hour?"
"I am doing the right thing, and talking him through his first Ashes test match."
Elsie sat next to Charles, "Harry's only a bairn, love. He hardly needs to be learning the ins and outs of cricket. He won't even pick up a bat or ball for another three or four years."
"It's never too early to start, Els. And besides are you really going to begrudge me an opportunity to bond with my son?"
"No, but I think our wee lad needs some sleep before we all go to Isobel and Richard's for lunch tomorrow."
Harry looked towards his mum and gave a dribble-covered smile, and put his arms out. Elsie pulled him into her arms.
"Say goodnight to your Dad."
"Els, he'll be fine for another hour or so."
Elsie shot Charles a look that brooked no room for argument, "I'm sure, but I can't deal with the both of you being tired tomorrow; so I am putting the bairn to bed and hope that you take the hint."
Charles switched off the TV, "Of course, you are right Elsie."
They went upstairs, and placed Harry into this cot. As they watched over him, Harry's eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.
A soft whisper came from Charles, "I still can't believe how quickly he can fall asleep."
"He does take after his father."
Charles led Elsie out of the nursery and took her face in his hands, just as he did the night they found out about Harry's imminent arrival. "Thank you so much Elsie Carson."
"What ever for?"
"For keeping me steady."
"Even after the year we had?"
"Especially after the year we had. You're my constant Elsie Carson, and I love you for it. No matter how old we get, or how much things might change, I love and adore you."
Elsie just beamed through the tears in her eyes. "Well Mr. Carson, that is quite a statement."
"No, Els. It's just the truth."
Elsie stood on her tiptoes and gave Charles a warm, passionate kiss.
"Take me to bed, Mr. Carson."
"With pleasure, Mrs. Carson."
