7 December 2014

"Kathleen Angel! Come now if you want to join us. Matthew and I are leaving in ten… nine… eight…" John Paul didn't have to continue the countdown as the daughter of his cousin hurried from the kitchen. "Come her, get dressed, my love." He helped her take on her winter coat, hat and gloves. "It's cold outside. See Matthew, he's looking like an eskimo."

"What's an eskimo, uncle John?" the four-year-old asked.

"It's a person who lives in Greenland. They live in igloos, which are small houses made out of snow." John Paul knew that he was being very superficial and old-fashioned, probably even colonial, with his explanation, but suspected that the reality of a modern eskimo culture would be even more difficult to explain to her.

"Really? Houses made out of snow? Is it always Christmas there?" The little girl watched him with huge eyes of amazement.

"No, they only live in them during the winter. In the summer they live in tents or normal houses, I guess. Anyway, you'll learn about them later. Let's go to the park." He tried to move her focus before she'd demand to move to Greenland.

"The park!" both kids shouted joyfully as they left the house.

John Paul was sitting alone on a bench. The kids had been playing in the swings but had stopped when they realised it was snowing and were now running around trying to catch the snowflakes before they hit the ground. Other children, from two-year-olds to six- or seven-year-olds had joined their game and there were now a big group of kids playing together. The laughter was infectious and John Paul couldn't but join in their enjoyment. The same went for the other grown-ups around him, although John Paul didn't give them much attention. He heard someone join him on the bench but didn't turn to look at the person, but kept his focus on Matthew and Kathleen Angel.

"Sarah! Come here. It's getting cold. You have to wear something warmer." The person next to him called out a few moments later. "You'll catch your death!"

John Paul thought he recognised the voice and turn his head. He couldn't really see the man's face because of the thick black beard and the furry hat he was wearing. The eyes looked familiar and they lid up as the guy turned to look at him.

"John Paul? I can't believe it's you!" He exclaimed with excitement.

John Paul still wasn't certain who it was, but …

"It's me! Spike!"

Of course it was. How could he not see it right away?

"Spike. My God! How on Earth…? What on Earth are you doing here?" John Paul asked equally shocked.

There was a moment of awkward hesitation as they contemplated whether to hug or not. They didn't but just smiled at one another.

"I live her now… again." Spike explained. "But what are you doing here? I thought you'd moved to Dublin?" He asked.

"Yeah, I did. Moved back a couple of years back though. Live here now." John Paul explained, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Great! How's Craig?" Spike asked as he helped the little girl, who looked about three, put on her gloves.

"He's alright, I guess." John Paul replied, a little doubtful after yesterday's talk. "We're not together anymore. He's in town, though." He added.

"Oh. That's a shame … That you're not together anymore, I mean, not that he's in town." Spike tried to explain.

John Paul waited for a sarcastic comment about the great love of a straight man not lasting, but none came. Instead, Spike said with what John Paul saw as honesty, "I truly am sorry that it didn't work out, John Paul. I know how much you loved him. Probably still do, right?"

"Yeah, well, that's how life goes." John Paul replied. "But how about you, who's Sarah? Is she yours?"

"She's my daughter. I'm a dad!" Spike's words couldn't conceal his pride. Had her with my best friend, Darla. Best decision of my life! You here with your niece or nephew?"

"No, my son. Yeah, and a kind of a niece, I guess." John Paul added, uncertain. "She's the daughter of my cousin, a cousin once-removed, I think is the correct term, but they live with us, so she feels like my niece."

"Okay. So who's the mother? I guess it wasn't a one-night stand." Spike winked at his once boyfriend who blushed and blurted out, "No, of course not. Her mum was a friend of ours in Dublin."

"So Craig's her other dad?" Spike prodded.

"Yeah, kind of. He didn't want to be involved at first, but …"

"…now he wants to." Spike finished the question. "Well, better late than never, I guess. But what does it mean for you? Does he want to be involved with you again, as well?"

"No, not at all. He has a girlfriend now, she's here with him, but he wants to be friends again, and have a relationship with Matthew… that's my son… but he still lives in Dublin, so it's all a bit complicated." John Paul could feel his mood worsen as he tried to explain, putting into words what he'd been feeling ever since he found out that Craig was back.

"I gather. But are you available?" Spike asked, "or are you still hoping to reunite with Craig?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?" John Paul replied with a question, his voice betraying his tiredness.

"Because I'd like to get to know you again, that's why."

"Are you sleeping in the bed tonight?" Siobhan asked as they made their way to Craig's old bedroom, "or will you be on the floor again?"

"I don't know. I still don't feel like sharing a bed with you after what happened yesterday." Craig replied. "I can't believe you'd go with Darren like that."

"I've said I'm sorry. I've just felt pushed aside since we've been back. That you're not here with me, but for him. And I'm not talking about your son." She snapped back. "And how do you think I felt when the first thing you did is run to him, your ex. You didn't even talk to me first, but just jumped to conclusion and called him, John Paul." She said the name is if it tasted like old milk.

"Jumped to conclusion?" Craig sputtered out sarcastically, "the correct conclusion! Do I have to remind you of that?" He paused for a moment, but there was no comment. His girlfriend just turned away, feeling embarrassed. "You cheated on me with my stepbrother, Shiv! And after all I've told you about my ex-girlfriends and him, you go ahead and do the same. I can't believe you!"

"You can't believe me? You didn't even tell me you had an ex-boyfriend! I have to find out from your stepbrother that your son isn't the son of an ex-girlfriend, but an ex-boyfriend! What does that say about us, about you? Are you that ashamed of your past?" She retorted.

"No," he whispered, "I'm not ashamed. It's just…" He couldn't finish.

"It's just what?" She snarled back.

Craig closed his eyes and swallowed his saliva, trying to calm down before he finished the sentence.

"It's just that every time I was about to tell you, the mere thought of him made me so sad that I felt like crying. What would you have thought if I'd started crying telling you about my ex?" He paused for a short moment, but didn't really give her the chance to comment before continuing, "I missed him so much, and it was just easier not to talk about him." The dam burst and the tears came flooding down his cheeks.

Siobhan watched him silently for a little while before giving him a tender kiss on his left cheek, whispering softly, "I guess there's no need to ask whether you still miss him."

Then she turned around and left the room.