fourth
28th December
The fourth day of Christmas
The chickens have other ideas.
‘Not a single egg,’ mourns Christen, when Tobin calls her at random to complain about something one of her publishers has done. ‘Do you think they’re unhappy?’
God, I hope not, prays Tobin, because said chickens have been furnished with everything they could possibly desire and she is not a mind-reader.
‘I’m sure they’re okay,’ she says with zero certainty. ‘You could check again later. Maybe they lay in the evenings.’
‘Do they do that?’
‘Yes?’
‘Is that a guess?’
‘...No?’
‘You’re useless,’ says Christen severely, but her voice is fond. ‘I’ll ask Crystal. She’ll know.’
***
‘I told her they’ll settle,’ says Crystal soothingly.
This is probably what Tobin loves best about the holidays, after the gift-giving: all her best friends back in town, dogpiling in each other’s childhood bedrooms like nothing has changed. ‘But what if they don’t?’
‘They will.’
‘But what if they don’t?’
‘Ugh -’
Lindsey cuts in helpfully. ‘What other birds lay eggs?’
‘I’m pretty sure they all do? Isn’t that what makes them birds?’
‘Quails,’ says Alex promptly, visibly thinking back to cotillion. ‘They lay those tiny little eggs that Mrs Schoonmaker does devilled as appetizers.’
‘Mrs Schoonmaker’s chef.’
‘Ostriches,’ are the first thing to come to Tobin’s mind - eggs as big as soccer balls - but Crystal rears up aggressively from her position on the bed. ‘No. Categorically no. You are not buying Christen an ostrich.’
‘But -’
‘Nuh-uh. Not even one. This is a zero ostrich importation zone.’
‘What about those partridges?’ suggests Kelley. ‘You must have enough for a little battery farm by now.’
‘They’re all boys,’ says Tobin gloomily. ‘Better plumage.’
‘Ducks.’ Becky stares at the ceiling. ‘Turkeys. Guineafowl. Emus. Swans. Geese. How long have you got?’
‘I think that’s long enough.’ Tobin drums her fingers on the back of her phone. ‘Yeah. Hmm. Okay.’
‘I see those wheels turning,’ says Kelley, batting the back of Tobin’s head fondly. ‘Where is Press, anyway? Don’t tell me you didn’t invite her just so you could ask us a question you could have googled.’
‘And there was I thinking you were happy to see me.’
‘Seriously, Heath.’
Tobin sighs. ‘She’s working. Said she has a lot to catch up on from the holiday break.’
‘Doesn’t a CEO have people for that?’
‘You know what she’s like.’
‘Yeah.’
There’s a pause, but Tobin can feel the others exchanging glances. It’s been hard for everyone, working out how to be around this new Christen, trying to guess what she needs without having to ask. It’s impossible to get it right all the time, but no one wants to push too far.
Lindsey nudges her, breaking the silence. ‘And you really think buying her an ostrich will take her mind off the whole inheriting-a-company thing?’
‘I’m not gonna buy her an ostrich,’ says Tobin absently, drowned out by Crystal’s ‘She is not going to buy her an ostrich!’
But she might possibly buy her something else.
***
Tobin and Christen’s lives have been entwined ever since that first meeting in Sunday school aged six. Tobin’s parents - like Christen’s, once upon a time - see Christen as another daughter, never so much as batting an eyelid when they see her in their kitchen or bump into her in the hallway. They live close enough that they’ve always dropped in and out at random, never worrying whether it’s necessary or convenient, in a way that more recently Tobin has noticed herself hesitating over. She knows that grief hits everyone differently and she’s so aware that Christen’s needs have changed, how the way they behaved six months ago might be too much for her now.
Just lately, something - and, when Tobin is being honest with herself, she knows it isn’t just the bereavement - is making her second-guess how they’re supposed to be around each other.
She knows, from literally years of experience, that Christen won’t even think about food until she’s finished her work. By the same logic, she’s, like, ninety-five percent certain that she’ll be welcomed with open arms if she arrives with unsolicited takeout. But even though it’s just between the two of them, or maybe because of that, she ducks out of the Thai restaurant anyway after placing their usual order and presses the call button.
‘Hey.’
Christen sounds perfectly normal, not even stressed, and Tobin wonders why she worried. ‘Hey. How are you doing?’
‘Oh - I mean, whatever. Lots of stupid stuff I have to read and sign off. Kind of boring really.’ Her tone is light, but she does sound tired. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Have you eaten?’
‘Not since -’ Tobin imagines her looking down at her watch ‘- one-fifteen. I’m starving.’
It’s eight pm. Tobin had leftover roast potatoes at three and a mince pie at five, and she still feels decidedly hollow. ‘Chris, you need to feed yourself better. Um - want me to pick up some dinner?’
Christen practically moans at the thought. Tobin’s stomach turns over, for reasons she doesn’t care to examine too closely. ‘God, yes please.’
‘What kind?’
‘Thai, please. Extra spring rolls and -’
‘- peanut sauce. Yes ma’am.’ Well, that’s a relief. ‘Coming right up.’
Her order is ready thirty seconds later, but hopefully Christen will be too zoned out with work to notice when said Thai food arrives twenty minutes ahead of schedule.
She is, just sighing in relief when she sees Tobin on the doorstep. ‘My hero.’
‘Can I come in?’
‘Tobs.’ Christen smiles, looking genuinely baffled. ‘Of course you can.’
‘I just know you don’t want a lot of fuss for your birthday, and I’ve got a couple things for you, but I can leave them -’
‘Tobin.’ Christen takes her by both hands and pulls her inside. ‘When I said I didn’t want fuss, I just meant I didn’t want to be crowded. You know, Kelley persuading everyone to do shots, and Crystal and Rose turning everything into a dancefloor, and everyone trying desperately to pretend nothing’s happened. But I never meant I don’t want you.’
Something uncurls in Tobin’s chest. ‘I don’t want to presume.’
Christen frowns. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘I don’t know,’ says Tobin truthfully. All she knows is that looking at Christen recently has felt almost overwhelming, like being poised at the top of a rollercoaster, and she doesn’t yet know what to do with that information.
Christen puts on a movie they’ve both seen before and they eat on the couch, casually stealing each other’s food like they always do. Tobin knows how hard it’s been for Christen to adjust to living in that huge house by herself, and it feels like she’s been creating spaces that are easier to cope with: the study, the bedroom, the little bubble between couch and coffee table and TV. That might be why it feels a little bit like Christen is leaning into her, sitting closer than she needs to. Seeking reassurance.
As if she’s read her mind, Christen looks up at her seriously. ‘Will you stay over tonight? Please?’
‘Yeah, Chris. I’d love to.’
And Christen’s smile is warm and bright and thrilling.
The movie ends without either of them noticing. Christen sits up and stretches with a groan. ‘Ow. I think working is bad for my back. You okay for a while if I jump in the shower?’
‘Go for it. I should answer some emails anyway.’
Christen brushes past her as she stacks the takeout containers. ‘Arranging to go somewhere else exciting?’
‘Just arranging to get paid, unfortunately.’ Tobin grins at her, waiting until she hears Christen’s bathroom door close before she dives for her phone and dials her sister.
‘Did they arrive?’
‘Oh, they arrived all right. Tobs, I don’t remember dropping you on your head as a child, but I’m really sorry if I did.’
‘Very funny ha ha. Could you drive them over here? Right now? Chris is in the shower.’
‘Does it really need to be this cloak and dagger? Believe me when I say it’ll be a surprise whatever happens.’
‘Katie, please.’
‘You owe me so big for this.’
The trailer pulls up five minutes later, the cages of songbirds stacked on the back. Tobin puts the front door on the latch and hops up and down to stay warm as Katie parks. The window of Christen’s ensuite is still lit up, and if Christen was going to hear anything it would have been the engine, but they both still instinctively speak in whispers. ‘So, what’s the plan?’
‘I hung the bird-feeders on the trees while you were on your way, so we just...let them out, I guess.’
‘What if they all just fly away?’
‘I mean, they might, but that’s what keeps it exciting. And why I didn’t want Chris to know in advance.’
‘I really enjoy how your brain works,’ sighs Katie. ‘Okay. Here goes nothing.’
The birds are cautious at first, perching on the little wire door-rims as the sisters open the cages, but then a wren flutters away and the others follow. Their wings rustle in the dark, and the night feels alive, suddenly, like a breath has been let out.
‘I will admit,’ whispers Katie, ‘this will be pretty great if it works.’
Tobin slips her arms around her sister’s waist and hugs her, side-on. ‘Thank you, Kay.’
‘Any time, Toby.’
Tobin watches the lights disappear down the drive, smiles as she hears the shower shut off, and slips back inside.