“Indie, you have no idea,” he says. “Anyway, can I call you later? I’m about to go into a shop and get my girlfriend’s Christmas present.”
I feel a pang of sadness. Will Mum be here for Christmas? I’ll have to stay home in the morning so that Spencer and his family don’t question why I don’t want to be home. If she’s not back, I’ll spend Christmas morning alone, counting down the hours until I can go to Spencer’s.
“Well, I hope it won’t be too much trouble getting a Tesla back to the UK.”
“Hell, if you’re letting me replace that tin can you call a car then—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare buy me a car. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He chuckles. “Later, Indie.”
Thirty-Three
Spencer
Finally, I’m back in England, unlocking the front door to my parents’ house. I’ve been running lines non-stop, getting into character to the point where I almost forgot who Spencer Lowe is. I’ve been so absorbed by Wyatt Pike, but I’ve not missed a call or text to Indie. I won’t make that mistake again.
“Mum? Dad?” I call, walking into the house and dumping my bag. It’s freezing here. I miss Californian weather already.
Something clatters in the kitchen, and Mum comes bounding into the hallway. “Spencer, you’re home!”
“The house looks like Santa’s grotto.”
There are lights and decorations everywhere. I know she will have the usual three trees up. One in the living room, one in the dining room, and one in the kitchen. It even smells like cinnamon.
“I got your dad to buy some more lights. It’s so festive. Now, come through.”
“Wow, what’s happened in here?”
The countertops are covered in flour. Two mixing bowls are stacked in the sink, and six baking trays sit beside the oven, holding star-shaped cookies.
“I’m baking,” she tells me. “Where’s Indie? You didn’t pick her up?”
I shake my head. “She still doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Spencer!”
Laughing, I jump back to miss her playful slap. “You go and get her.”
“She’s at uni, Mum. I was kind of hoping that you’d be able to get her over here.”
“You do know that if you keep surprising her, she’s going to get frustrated with you.”
I hold my palms up. “Twice, I’ve done it. This time it’s only because it’s Christmas.”
“She thinks you’re back next week.”
“Uh-huh. When are those going to be ready?”
Shaking her head, she turns around and goes back to her baking. “Call her, Spencer.”
“Invite her over, Mum.”
“All right, all right. Would you like me and Dad to go out?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Let me rephrase. Would you like the house to yourself?”
Frowning, I sit up on the one clean area on the worktop. “No,” I repeat.
Yes. God, yes.
Shoulders sagging, she replies, “Can you not take a hint? I want your dad to take me out.”
“And you need me to kick you out of the house for that?”
“We went out two nights ago. You know how he likes his evenings at home.”
“Fine. Yes, please invite Indie over but be gone before she arrives.”
Mum places her hand on her heart. “Of course, we’ll do that for our only child—our baby boy. By the way, if you make your own baby boy before Indie has finished uni, you’ll have me to answer to.”
“What if we have a girl?”
Her eyes widen. “Spencer Jackson Lowe!”
“No need to full name me. I was only joking. Neither of us want kids yet.”
Jesus, children hasn’t even come up in a years-from-now conversation. I want them, though. Little versions of us running around, driving us up the wall.
“All right, but don’t leave it too long, yeah?” She turns to her cookies and puts them in the oven.
Mum reminds me a little of Mila.
She’s been quiet the last two weeks. Indie took about six days to get over her sickness bug, and then she’s thrown herself back into catching up with her uni work. Mila has seen her twice and said she seems the same: a little distracted.
Indie will be stressing that she’s behind and won’t graduate.
That would never happen. She’ll finish at the top of her class. I’ve never met anyone as focused and determined as her.
All of this means that I haven’t had the pleasure of as many phone calls.
Wren and Mila know I’m home early, though. We’re going out with them next week, having Christmas dinner, since it’s almost mid-December and they have plans with family.
Mum calls Indie and invites her over after uni. After that, she calls Dad to tell him to meet her at a local Italian restaurant when he’s finished work. What she doesn’t tell him is that she has booked tickets to the cinema as well.
I don’t suspect she will until dessert.
I’m waiting in the house for Indie to arrive. It’s late afternoon. Mum is out shopping before dinner, and I’m alone. I should have gone straight to uni when I landed, but I don’t think she’d appreciate the fuss if people notice me. Also, I really need to be alone with her the second I see her. It’s been far too long.
She’s due here any second. In my bag is the perfect gift for her. I wish it was the logbook to a new car, but she would be pissed off if I did that. I’ve bought her a platinum infinity necklace encrusted with fucking expensive diamonds. Besides my car, it’s the most extravagant thing I’ve bought.
When we were younger, Indie would force me to watch the Toy Story Movies. I’m not talking younger like we were seven, either. We were teenagers, and she always said the line ‘to infinity and beyond’ along with the movie.
It seems rather fitting.
Now I have to wait until Christmas to give it to her.
The doorbell rings a minute later.
Rolling my eyes, I walk over. She picks now to ring and not just come in. Really?
My heart thumps as I open the door and see the surprise in her beautiful dark eyes.
Her mouth parts. “Spence,” she whispers.
Last time I surprised her,
