Page 53 of Forever After All
"I assure you, ma'am. You wouldn't have said the same about forty-eight hours ago, but thank you." I smile at her.
Although Hope is tiny, it’s very clear where her daughter gets her looks. Alice is the spitting image of her momma. The same long light brown hair, the same green eyes, the same dimples as her lips pull up into a smile. Alice's father is of average height, greying, and very affluent sounding. Poor man having to spend the afternoon with a retired, hockey playing country boy. I reach out my hand to shake his.
"Hello, sir—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"I do not have a knighthood, my boy. Call me Alex." He shakes my hand and pulls me in to give me a large pat on the back.
"Well, okay. Alex, then." I smile at him as we are ushered through the house, but I can't help feeling intimidated by his presence.
Alice carries Ginny in her arms to the large kitchen and dining room then sets her down on the floor, encouraging her to go to bed. A huge, green range cooker in one corner, brown tiled floors and off-white on the walls, and a large, heavy woodendining table on the other side of the room. I may not know much about kitchens, but I know my mom would love this. If I was going to imagine an English kitchen, it would be this one. My hand hovers over my pocket as I’m half-tempted to pull out my phone to take photos to send to my mom, but I think better of it, because that would be weird.
Taking a seat at the dining table, I settle into the bench seat next to my girl and bump knees with her.
"Still can't believe it about Danny, Alice. How did the funeral go yesterday?" Hope asks as she shuffles around with a kettle and a teapot.So British.
"It was like any other funeral, I guess," Alice answers, while looking at me, and I give her a reassuring squeeze to the knee.
"Alice tells us that you used to play hockey?" Alex says from the other side of the table.
"I did, I was pretty good too!" I beam at her dad, hoping to impress him somehow.
"Cricket was always my sport, but I can appreciate a good physical game." His voice bellows around the kitchen. He doesn't mean to shout, but that's just his natural volume.
"What made you retire?" he asks.
I give my knees a hard slap. "These," I reply, and a laugh booms out of him. "They gave up before I was ready to. I'd still be playing if I could. I knew retirement was coming soon, I justwasn't expecting it to be at the end of the last season." I answer every question he asks me.
"That's a shame, there’s something to be said about the discipline that comes with playing a sport." He nods at me. I like this guy. "What do you do now?"
"Right now, I’m enjoying a little downtime, but in the future I'd like to work with kids in sport. It's something that Alice's boss is helping me with." I haven't told many people about my plans for the future yet. But Alice's boss is incredible. “She's putting me in touch with some of her contacts, and together, with a group of seven or eight retired athletes, we’re setting up a sports camp.”
Alice looks at me, pulling her eyebrows into a little frown. "You didn't tell me that," she says, waiting for me to elaborate.
"It's just something we're working on," I reply. "Nothing in motion yet." I rub her thigh that my hand has been nervously clinging to since we sat down with her dad.
Hope carries a tray over to the table and puts four cups down before placing the teapot in the centre. She covers the pot in something that looks like a cat.
"It's a tea cosy, Carter," Hope answers the question that hasn't left my mouth yet. "Helps keep the tea hot."
"Clever," I respond, wondering what other Briticisms I am unaware of.
"Never get in the way of an English person and hot tea!" she exclaims.
"I'll try to remember that." I beam at my future mother-in-law across the table. They might not know that bit yet, but I do.
I still think about my ex-girlfriend sometimes, only when I think about marriage. That would sound bad if I said it out loud. But, with Eleanor, I never—not even once—thought about marrying her. With Alice, I think about it all the time. It took me a long time the realise that I kept going with Eleanor for the wrong reasons. because now, I realise that if it isn't forever, then I don't want it.
We spend the next couple of hours discussing animals, art, careers, politics, and every British person's favourite topic—the weather. I discover that Hope was an artist and Alex was a pilot for a British airline. What a cool fucking career.
"So, tell me about it, Alice. How was Sarah? How was the family? Were there lots of people there?" Hope tries to probe Alice again about yesterday, and I feel her fingers clench around my leg.
"It was a funeral, Mum. There isn't much to say." Alice tries to change the subject, but her mom continues to push for information. Hope is a very sweet lady and means well. But I wish she'd stop asking questions for Alice's sake.
"Still, it's such a shame," she continues. "He was such a nice boy when you were together. Far too young to die."
I feel myself getting a little annoyed but try not to let it show.
"For goodness’ sake, Hope, leave Alice alone. She said she doesn’t want to talk about it, so drop it," Alex urges his wife to stop asking questions and huffs, shooting a smile at Alice from across the table.
