Người mà cố gắng rồi thất bại vẫn tốt hơn nhiều so với người không cố gắng gì cả và thành công.

Lloyd James

 
 
 
 
 
Tác giả: Cecelia Ahern
Thể loại: Tiểu Thuyết
Biên tập: Bach Ly Bang
Upload bìa: Bach Ly Bang
Language: English
Số chương: 28
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Cập nhật: 2015-08-17 07:00:36 +0700
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Chapter 26: For Old Times’ Sake
T EXACTLY THE SAME TIME as Lou Suffern left one world and entered another, he stood in the front garden of his Howth home, drenched to the very core. He was trembling from the experience he’d just had. He didn’t have much time, but there was nowhere in the world he’d rather have been right at that moment.
He stepped through the front door, his shoes squeaking on the tiles. The fire in the living room was crackling, the floor below the tree was filled with presents, all wrapped with pretty ribbons. Lucy and Bud were so far the only children in the family, and so family tradition dictated that Lou’s parents, Quentin and Alexandra, and the newly separated Marcia would be staying overnight in his house. Tonight he couldn’t imagine not being with all of them; he couldn’t think of anything that would fill his heart with any more joy. He entered the dining room, hoping they would see him, hoping that Gabe’s last miraculous gift wouldn’t fail him now.
“Lou.” Ruth looked up from the dinner table and saw him first. She leapt out of her chair and ran to him. “Lou, honey, are you okay? Did something happen?”
His mother rushed to get a towel for him.
“I’m fine.” He sniffed, cupping her face with his hands and not taking his eyes off her. “I’m fine now. I was calling,” he whispered. “You didn’t answer.”
“Bud hid the phone again,” she said, studying him with concern. “Are you drunk?” she asked in a whisper.
“No.” He laughed. “I’m in love,” he whispered back, then raised his voice so that the whole room could hear. “I’m in love with my beautiful wife.” He kissed her fully on the lips, then breathed in her hair, kissed her neck, kissed her everywhere on her face, not caring who was there to see. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, barely able to get words out of his mouth, his tears gathering in his throat.
“Sorry about what? What happened?”
“I’m sorry for the things that I’ve done to you. For being the way I was. I love you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Ruth’s eyes filled. “Oh, I know that, sweetheart, you already told me. I know.”
“I just realized that when I’m not with you, I’m ruthless.” He smiled, and his mother—who’d returned with a towel and was now tearful at the scene—laughed and clapped her hands, before grabbing her husband’s hand at the table.
“To all of you.” He pulled away from Ruth but wouldn’t let go of her hand. “I’m so sorry to all of you.”
“We know that, Lou.” Quentin smiled wobbily, emotion thick in his voice. “It’s all water under the bridge now. Okay? Stop worrying, and sit down for dinner; it’s all okay.”
Lou looked to his parents, who smiled and nodded. His father had tears in his eyes and nodded emphatically that it was all okay. His sister, Marcia, was blinking fiercely to stop her own tears.
They dried him, they kissed him, they loved him, they fed him, though he wouldn’t eat much. He told them in turn that he loved them, over and over again, until they were laughing and telling him to stop. He went upstairs to get a change of clothes before, according to his mother, he caught pneumonia. While upstairs, he heard Bud crying and immediately left his bedroom and hurried to his son’s room.
The room was almost dark, lit with only a night-light. He could see Bud wide awake and standing up against the railings of his cot, like a woken prisoner. Lou switched the light on and went inside. Bud viewed him angrily at first.
“Hey there, little man,” Lou said gently. “What are you doing awake?”
Bud just gave a quiet little moan.
“Oh, come here.” Lou leaned over the railings and lifted him up, holding him close in his arms and shushing him. For the first time in a long time, Bud didn’t scream the house down when his father came near him. Instead, he smiled and pointed a finger in Lou’s eye, in his nose, then in his mouth, where he tried to grab his teeth.
Lou started laughing. “Hey, you can’t have them. You’ll have your own soon, though.” He kissed Bud on the cheek. “When you’re a big boy, all sorts of things will happen.” He looked at his son, feeling sad that he would miss all of those things. “Mind Mummy for me, won’t you?” he whispered, his voice shaking.
Bud laughed, suddenly hyper, and blew bubbles with his lips.
Lou’s tears quickly disappeared at the sound of Bud’s laughter. He lifted him up, put Bud’s belly on his head, and started jiggling him about. Bud laughed so hard, Lou couldn’t help but join in.
From the corner of his eye, Lou saw Lucy at the door watching them.
“Now, Bud,” he spoke loudly, “how about you and I go into Lucy’s room and jump on her bed to wake her up—what do you think?”
“No, Daddy!” Lucy yelled, exploding into the room. “I’m awake!”
“Oh, you’re awake, too! Are you both little elves that help Santa?”
“No.” Lucy laughed. Bud laughed, too.
“Well then, you’d better hurry to bed, or else Santa won’t come to the house if he sees you awake.”
“What if he sees you?” she asked.
“Then he’ll leave extra presents.” He smiled.
She wrinkled up her nose. “Bud smells of poo. I’m getting Mummy.”
“No, I can do it.” He looked at Bud, who looked back at him curiously.
Lucy stared at him as though he were insane.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he joked. “How hard can this be? Now, come on, buddy, help me out here.” He smiled at Bud nervously. Bud’s open palm smacked his father across the face playfully. Lucy howled with laughter.
Lou lay Bud down on the ground so that he wouldn’t wriggle off.
“Mummy puts him up there,” Lucy said, pointing to the changing table.
“Well, Daddy doesn’t,” he said, while trying to figure out how to undo Bud’s pajamas.
“The buttons are at the bottom.” Lucy said, sitting down beside him.
“Oh. Thanks.” He opened the buttons and rolled the pajamas up Bud’s body, in an attempt to evacuate all clothes from the area. He untaped a new diaper and slowly opened it. Turned it around in his hands, trying to figure out which way it went.
“Oh, pooh!” Lucy dove backward, her fingers pinching her nose. “Piglet goes on the front,” she said through her blocked nose.
Lou moved quickly to try to get the situation under control, while Lucy rolled around fanning the air with exaggerated drama. Impatient with his father’s progress, Bud began kicking his legs, forcing Lou away from him. With Bud now on his knees, his rear end in Lou’s face, Lou crawled around behind him, approaching his bottom with a baby wipe. His light swipes were not helping the situation. He needed to get in there. Holding his breath, he went for it. With Bud momentarily under control and playing with a ball that had caught his eye, Lucy handed the various apparatuses to Lou.
“You’re supposed to put that cream on next.”
“Thanks. You’ll always take care of Bud, won’t you, Lucy?”
She nodded solemnly.
“And you’ll take care of Mummy?”
“Yessss.”
“And Bud and Mummy will take care of you,” he said, finally grabbing Bud’s pudgy legs and pulling him back, while Bud screeched like a pig.
“And we’ll all take care of Daddy!” she hurrahed, standing up and dancing around.
“Don’t worry about Daddy,” he said quietly, trying again to figure out which way to put the diaper on. Finally he got the gist, quickly closed the buttons on Bud’s pajamas, and put him back in the crib.
“Mummy puts the lights out so that he gets sleepy,” Lucy whispered.
“Oh, okay, let’s do that,” Lou whispered, turning off the lights so that the Winnie the Pooh night-light was again visible.
Lou hunkered down in the darkness, pulling Lucy close to him. He sat on the carpet hugging his little girl, watching the bear of very little brain chase a honeypot on the ceiling. As Bud made a few gurgles and spurts, lulling himself to sleep, Lou knew it was his moment to tell her.
“You know that no matter where Daddy is, no matter what’s happening in your life, no matter if you’re sad or happy or lonely or lost, remember that I’m always there for you. Even if you don’t see me, know that I’m in here”—he touched her head—“and I’m in here”—he touched her heart. “And I’m always watching you, and I’m always proud of you and of everything you do, and when you sometimes question how I ever felt about you, remember right now, remember me saying that I love you, my sweetheart. Daddy loves you, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she said sadly. “But what about when I’m naughty? Will you love me when I’m naughty?”
“When you’re naughty,” he said, thinking about it, “remember that Daddy is somewhere always hoping that you’ll be the best that you can be.”
“But where will you be?”
“If I’m not here, I’ll be elsewhere.”
“Where is that?”
“It’s a secret,” he whispered, trying to hold back his tears.
“A secret elsewhere,” she whispered back, her warm sweet breath on his face.
“Yeah.” He hugged her tight and tried not to let a sound pass his lips as his tears fell, hot and thick.
Downstairs in the dining room, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as they listened to the conversation in Bud’s nursery over the baby intercom. For the Sufferns they were tears of joy because a son, a brother, and a husband had finally come back to them.
That night, Lou Suffern made love to his wife, and afterward he held her close to him, rubbing his hands down her silky hair until he drifted away, and even then his fingertips continued to trace the contours of her face: the little turn-up of her nose, her high cheekbones, the tip of her chin, along her jawline, then all the way along her hairline, as though he were a blind man seeing her for the first time.
“I’ll love you forever,” he whispered to her, and she smiled, halfway to her dream world.
IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE of the night that the dream world was shattered when Ruth was awakened by the gate buzzer. Half asleep, she stood in her nightgown and welcomed both Raphie and Jessica into her home. Quentin and Lou’s father accompanied her, keen to protect the house against such late-night dangers. But they couldn’t protect her from this.
“Morning,” Raphie said somberly as they all gathered in the living room. “I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour.”
Ruth looked at the young police officer standing beside him, at her dark black eyes that seemed cold and sad, at the grass and dried muck that was splattered on her boots and that clung to the bottom of her navy-blue trousers. At the small scrapes across her face and the cut that she was trying to hide behind her hair.
“What is it?” Ruth whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “Tell me, please.”
“Mrs. Suffern, I think you should sit down,” Raphie said gently.
“We should get Lou,” she whispered, looking to Quentin. “He wasn’t in bed when I woke up; he must be in his study.”
“Ruth,” the young garda said, so softly that Ruth’s heart sank even further, and as her body went limp, she allowed Quentin to reach for her and pull her down to the couch beside him and Lou’s father. They grabbed one another’s hands, squeezed one another so tightly that they were linked like a chain, and they listened as Raphie and Jessica told them how life for them had changed beyond all comprehension, as they learned that a son, a brother, and a husband had left them as suddenly as he’d arrived.
WHILE SANTA LAID GIFTS IN homes all across the country that night, while lights in windows began to go out for the evening, while wreaths upon doors became fingers upon lips and blinds went down as the eyelids of a sleeping home drooped, hours before a turkey went through a window at another home in another district, Ruth Suffern had yet to learn that despite losing her husband she had gained his child, and together the family realized—on the most magical night of the year—the true gift that Lou had given them in the early hours of Christmas morning.
The Gift The Gift - Cecelia Ahern The Gift