"Well, that was a complete waste of time!" Cal declared as he hung up his coat.
"Perhaps, if you weren't so picky, you'd have found something." Emily rolled her eyes.
"It's not my fault that the stores didn't have the right things for Foster." He defended himself.
"Or maybe your expectations are a little bit too high…" Emily suggested. "You know, I'm beginning to think you've screwed up royally with Gillian and nothing money can buy could ever make things right between you guys."
"Don't be ridiculous, you were the one who told me I needed to find something meaningful. For all I care I could just order the next best romance novel off of Amazon."
"Yeah, right, keep telling yourself that." Emily walked past him into the kitchen.
"Fancy anything particular?" Cal asked his daughter.
"Anything but beans on toast, dad."
"Oi, that might prove to be difficult. What about my chicken tikka masala?"
Emily nodded and sat down at the kitchen island, from where she watched her father juggling pots and pans. While she was not an expert in reading faces, she'd gotten pretty good at gauging his overall mood. She figured now was as good a time as ever to set stage two of her Christmas plan in motion.
"So I've been thinking", she began and rolled her eyes, when Cal quipped uh-oh, "we should invite Gillian over for Christmas again this year."
"No can do. I'm the last person Gillian wants to spend the holidays with." Cal's tone bore no room for argument but she wouldn't be his daughter if she didn't put up a fight.
"Why not? Are you and Gillian breaking up?" Emily finally dared to ask and earned a dumbfounded look from her father. Just as he was about to point out that he and Gillian had never been together in the first place so how on earth could they be breaking up, she clarified, "Professionally. I mean is she leaving you and the company."
"No, of course not" Cal dismissed this notion entirely when he actually wanted to blurt out, 'Why, what have you heard?' "We've just hit a rough patch this year. Things will go back to normal soon."
"Then why don't you want to be around each other for the holidays? I don't understand you grown ups."
"First of all, Em, we're spending Christmas Day at your mother's because your grandparents are flying in all the way from Chicago. Second, for all you know Gillian has already made other plans."
"I really liked how we spent Christmas last year." Emily smiled.
"Me too. But last year was different because your mum was stuck in St. Louis and Gillian did me a huge favour by watching you while I was gone in Afghanistan. It was the least I could do to ask her to stay over the holidays and spend Christmas with us."
"We could do it again this year." Emily smiled at his use of Gill's first name.
"That wouldn't go over too well with your mum, love." Cal shook his head.
Emily suddenly changed course. "Why does mom hate Gillian?" She finally asked a question that had been burning on her mind long, "I mean what's Gillian ever done to piss her off so much?"
"Your mother doesn't hate Gillian, love, they just don't see eye to eye on many things."
"Like you?" Emily had been dying to ask this question for a long time. She was still a little girl, when Gillian had entered their lives, and she loved her father's new best friend instantly from the moment they'd met. But she could also sense her mother's resentment towards the new woman in her father's life and she noticed that the arguments between them occurred more often now and involved more and more Gillian's name.
Cal choked and gazed at his daughter for a full minute. No matter how much he longed for his little girl to remain just that, she reminded him every day she was growing up into a fine young lady. Apparently that included now asking highly inappropriate adult questions. "I loved your mum and I've never cheated on her. Ok?"
"Ok." Emily was satisfied with his answer. She would have had a hard time believing someone as classy as Gillian would cheat on her husband and wreck another family in the process anyway. But…she just had to ask for clarity's sake.
"Look, your mum and Gillian are two very, very different people. They see the world from very different eyes, so it's only natural that they clash."
Emily nodded, 'Like you and mom."
Cal groaned inwardly, "Yes, I guess so. That doesn't mean we don't respect each other – that includes Gillian. We just prefer not to spend too much time with each other if given the choice – which is a good thing 'cause otherwise we'd only end up fighting anyway."
"Then why does mom insist on having make believe holidays?"
"Because she's old-fashioned that way." Cal grinned and Emily could have sworn there was a whole lot of affection for her mother in his smile. "And to be honest, I don't want to have to fight for you for the holidays."
"What if I don't want to celebrate the holidays with both of you? Seriously, dad, we've barely recovered from Thanksgiving. Are you sure you're ready for another round of battle with mom?"
"So are you saying you don't want to spend the holidays with your old man?" Cal tried to keep the hurt out of his voice and failed miserably.
"No!"
"But we're gonna have a problem if your mum expects you there and your grandparents would be disappointed if you stayed with me. "
"I know but why can't I come to you for Boxing Day when we visit Roger's family." Emily whined.
Cal sighed, "Em, love, I told you. You don't have to dislike Roger for me."
"I don't, dad. If I did, I'd have to dislike Gillian for mom, too, but it doesn't work that way. I really just don't like him all that much but that's ok as long as he makes mom happy. But I really hate his family; his nephews are spoilt brats. And his mother freaks me out."
"Have you talked to your mother about this?" Cal sighed and Emily nodded, "And?"
"She said she'll think about it and has avoided the topic ever since."
Cal nodded pensively, "We'll see, ok? I'll talk to your mum when she comes to pick you up tomorrow."
"Ok. I think that's enough salt", Emily changed the subject and nodded towards the shaker in his hand, which he'd been absent-mindedly sprinkling over the meat.
"When is Liam coming to pick you up?" Cal asked casually.
"At eight", Emily glanced at her watch, "oh my gosh, I need to shower and get ready!" She hopped off the chair and yelled over her shoulder, "Call me when dinner is ready!"
Cal just chuckled and shook his head. Teenagers!
0~0~0~0~0
The evening found Cal brooding over the latest draft of his book but he couldn't really focus on the task at hand. Emily's words had left a much bigger impact than he cared to admit. He really had been pushing the limits the past few months and the truth was he couldn't even give a reasonable explanation as to why he was behaving like an asshole to everyone. That they had not had a mutiny at the company was a miracle. One they probably owed to Gillian's diplomatic skills of keeping everyone happy while he pissed them off one after the other.
Why she kept doing it was beyond him. Sure, the firm was as much hers as his when one considered that she had insisted on investing a sizable junk of her and Alec's joint savings into the start-up capital. A fact Alec had never digested very well and probably held against her in the divorce settlement. He wondered how she'd managed to handle that issue. He'd bet his last shirt that Alec tried to take Gillian out to the cleaners and started to really wonder if she'd done the same thing he'd done with Zoë at the beginning of the year. Buy him out. Cal groaned. He'd also bet that Gillian rather took up a private loan than jeopardise the company. Why did she have to be such a saint? Because she's Gillian fucking Foster. That's why.
That's just who she was. Putting everyone else before her, always mediating between him and whomever he'd chosen to antagonise. She even saved bloody Loker's arse, when he jeopardised his job with the stupid stunt he'd pulled. Cal was certain that if scientists ever unravelled her DNA they'd find one particular gene, unique to Gillian Foster, that would explain why she had a heart of gold, the fierceness of a lioness protecting her cubs and the adorability of a puppy. She'd charmed off his socks in a second when they met. Oh he had tried to resist her charms but the man to do so had yet to be born! She'd wiggled her way into his life and made him completely dependent on her to clean up his messes. Something Zoë always refused to do. Not that he wanted either to. But with Foster it was different. He liked having her as his partner. He didn't mind relying on her expertise. He didn't mind her input. Why, he had no idea. All he knew was that if she suddenly were gone, he'd be completely lost without her.
Cal stared at the blank space in front of him and let out a long sigh. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe he couldn't find the perfect gift for Gillian because what he was trying to convey couldn't be bought with money. After all what did you give a woman who just about meant everything to you without practically telling her you loved her. Cause he didn't love her. Not like that anyway. Did he? Oh good God, whom was he kidding? He practically worshipped the ground she walked on. She'd reeled him in, hook, line and sinker, without even ever so much as intending to do so. How did you tell someone they meant the world to you? How could he possible express in words, let alone a single gift, all the things she did to him?
Cal shook his head, as if that would help him shake off his thoughts. He wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence in this mood. Great, just what he needed. He decided tonight was as good a night as any to start combing through his manuscript to proofread and format citations and the first few chapters. He'd kept the personal introduction the way it was but eased it into a second part where he summarised a lot of the science presented in his first book, for people who might not have read it recently or at all. It couldn't hurt to explain the mechanics of the brain and facial muscles with some hard facts and fancy pictures before he delved into the more interpretive and analytical aspects of his work.
He grabbed the stack of paper and walked over to the fridge, scanning the section on emotional brain activities, to retrieve a cold bottle of beer. He turned the page and looked at the pictures illustrating his point, when he stopped dead in his track and almost dropped his precious lager. He had an epiphany. It couldn't be this easy, could it? He wondered whether this was even a proper Christmas gift to Gillian because, technically, he wasn't really going to buy her a present. He thought back to a five year old Emily who was distraught because she didn't have a real gift for her mummy. Cal had explained to her that Zoë would love a self-made drawing much more than anything that could be bought in the stores and watched his little girl's eyes light up at that revelation. Cal chuckled. Gillian certainly seemed the type to appreciate self-made gifts, so she might like this.
And just like that Cal had the vision of his complete book before his mind's eye, too. The structure and organisation suddenly all fell into place. Moreover, he felt the urge to write and finish this darn book as quickly as possible. He walked back to his desk and reached for the wipe out. Grabbing a pen and highlighter, he started to rearrange chapters and mark paragraphs, while sipping on his beer. He laughed out loud. And to think the answer had been in front of his nose all the time! But isn't it always like that? He cracked his knuckles and began to type feverishly. He could do this. He just hoped Gillian would appreciate the gesture, would understand the meaning of it.