Frances
FrancesAfter all the travel and play-pretend, it turned out just the two of us in the end. Sitting on the guest bed, we could hear Ivy’s mum cry through the walls and Steven and her dad screaming at each other. Not quite the perfect Christmas.
Ivy chuckled awkwardly. “I’ll put some music on.”
“Saucy,” I joked, instantly regretting the insinuation I put out into the room. Luckily, Ivy didn’t take it at face-value as opened up the radio app on her phone. The soft chatter filled the space, slightly drowning out the fight in the rest in the house.
With a flourish, Ivy dug into her bag and presented me with a small but neat parcel. Wrapped in green paper with a beautiful red ribbon, it was an embodiment of Christmas. “Tadaa. It’s nothing special, just something fun.”
“Aw, thanks.”
