Page 30 of Always Be My Pumpkin

‘Hi, how are you?’ I smile as Mam’s face fills the screen as I climb the stairs. Her usually pale cheeks are golden and glowing, and her bouncy brown curls have a glossy sheen. It’s years since I’ve seen her look so healthy and relaxed.

‘Is everything okay? I thought you were calling me tomorrow.’ Mam messages twice a week with an update on where she’s at. But she always FaceTimes on Sundays for the unabridged version, complete with video tour of her latest surroundings, and an intro to any travelling companions she’s picked up along the way.

‘Sorry, love.’ She beams into the phone. ‘We’re going hiking early in the morning and plan to camp overnight, and Cal’s just told me the coverage isn’t great out there, so I thought it’d be safer to call before we go.’ The guy next to her, who I presume must be Cal, throws an arm around her shoulder and gives me a cheeky smile and a wave.

‘All my fault, Gracie, blame me,’ he says in a thick Scottish accent as if he’s known me all his life. He’s stocky and only a little taller than Mam, with that day-old stubble and rugged outdoorsy look that I know she likes, even though the woman has never been outdoorsy in her life. Well, not until this year when she turned fifty and decided she wanted to try hiking and wild swimming and hanging out with strangers on remote mountaintops, instead of eating pizza and rewatching all her favourite rom-coms, like we used to do all the time before I left.

She leans back into him as if she’s known him all her life, and she seems different somehow. She looks happy, really happy. Mam’s always been smiley and upbeat, and the kindest person I know. But ever since Dad died there’s a sadness beneath the surface that I recognise, that I’ve watched her push back down. I’m not sure anyone sees it but me and I never call her on it. I know that would only make it worse, especially as I’m the person she works hardest to convince.

‘This is Cal, by the way.’ She reaches for his hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. ‘I’m not sure if I’ve introduced you two yet.’ She squints into the screen as if she’s trying to locate the memory.

‘You haven’t,’ he says in that thick Scottish accent, and his face creases in another smile. His eyes are crinkly and weathered, but they also look honest and kind, as far as I can tell from our two-minute interaction over the phone.

‘But I feel I know you already, Gracie,’ he goes on. ‘Your mum’s told me so much about you.’ He wraps his other arm around her waist and leans his head on her shoulder, and she curls into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My mother. Who hasn’t even dated, not once, as far as I know, since she lost her teenage sweetheart, the man she married when she was only twenty-two.

And I think now that this Cal might have been in every group photo she sent since the first stop on her journey, back in Chania, in Crete. And he’s had an arm around her shoulder in a couple of the more recent pics. But only as part of those groups, and I assumed it was a friend thing, like me and Flynn. Although, I guess if it really was like me and Flynn, at least some small part of her might have ached that it couldn’t be more.

‘You look happy,’ I say brightly. ‘Where’s next on the bucket list?’ I want her to know that I’m happy for her too.

She curls her hands in fists and wiggles them in front of her chest, and she sounds as excited as a kid on her first trip to Disneyland as she fills me in. ‘After the Cinque Terre we’re going to drive along the coast to the Côte d’Azur and on up through Provence. And then we’re going to drive all the way to Paris.’ She laughs easily. ‘Well, Cal’s going to drive, I don’t think I should be let loose on the wrong side of the road. Not in Paris anyway.’

‘You definitely shouldn’t.’ I grin but I’m not kidding. Mam is the worst driver I know. She’s great fun to go on a trip with, always laughing and telling funny stories and pointing out interesting things along the way, but rarely keeping her eyes where they should be, on the road. She promised she’d get trains and buses all through Europe and not dream of renting a car. But clearly, she’s already decided that this rugged, handsome Scotsman will be her travelling companion and chauffeur for the remainder of her trip.

‘And you’re still planning to be home in time for Halloween?’ I’m not sure why I ask. I know her itinerary and that she’s due back near the end of October. I even checked in with her tenants last week when Mam asked me to, to make sure their new place would be ready in time for moving before she gets back.

‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I know how much work you’re putting into the festival and I can’t wait for Cal to see Oakwood.’ She claps a hand across her mouth, and I see the realisation land in her brain that this is the first time she’s mentioned bringing her Scotsman home with her.

‘Oh yes,’ she says, eyes wide and apprehensive. ‘I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Cal’s going to visit. He loves Ireland but he’s only been along the west coast, and I told him how beautiful it is in the midlands, so many hidden treasures, and he’s dying to see for himself . . .’ She’s rambling now, the way she does when she’s anxious. The way I do too, just like her.

‘That’s great.’ I smile as brightly as I can. ‘And you’ll love the Samhain session.’ I nod enthusiastically at Cal to include him, and to let Mam see that he’s welcome. ‘You’ll have to dress up, just to warn you. Full-on Halloween costume. You can go cosy fall or scary monsters, that’s up to you, as long as you go all out.’

‘Challenge accepted.’ He gives me a thumbs up. ‘If you want a scary monster, I’m your man.’ Mam laughs as though the notion of Cal frightening anybody is hilarious, and I decide it’ll be good to meet him, to see her happy and comfortable with someone.

‘And Cal’s invited me to stay with him after Christmas.’ She sighs dreamily. ‘He’s invited both of us but we can talk more about that when I’m back next month.’ She gives a little shimmy, like she can hardly believe so much great stuff is happening in her life. ‘He’s got an outdoor centre in the Highlands. Isn’t that amazing? His son’s running it while Cal’s away. And guess what? There’s even a castle.’ She almost squeals that last part, and Cal snorts over her shoulder.

‘It’s more of a ruin, a few walls of what once was a castle. But I’ve plenty of space in my actual house, and proper walls and windows too.’ He smiles. ‘God knows we need them in the Highlands in wintertime.’

‘Well, love, we’d better go.’ Mam lifts her hand and wiggles her fingers. ‘Early start. I’ll message when we get back from camping and I’ll send more photos.’ She blows me a kiss, and Cal calls Bye, Gracie, lovely to talk to you over her shoulder, and they’re gone.

Flynn taps on the bedroom door about twenty minutes later. ‘Are you okay in there, Gracie? You’ve been gone a while.’ I’m propped on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, staring at the lakeside landscape on the wall.

‘Hi, yeah, sorry, come in.’ I force a smile as the door opens and he enters. ‘That was Mam, she’s doing the Cinque Terre, it sounds amazing.’

He nods. ‘That’s good. When you said she’d headed off on her Eat, Pray, Love journey, I pictured her on a beach in Bali, but the Cinque Terre sounds great too.’

‘The budget only stretched as far as Europe and that’s always been her priority anyway.’ I pat the duvet and Flynn sits on the edge of the bed, facing me.

‘I remember.’ He grins. ‘Didn’t you two have plans to backpack across Europe before you started college, like Lorelai and Rory?’

‘Yeah.’ I sigh. ‘Turns out college is expensive and we couldn’t manage it. We thought about it a couple of years ago when we both had savings built up.’ I hesitate, unsure if I should be sharing this, but I go on anyway. ‘Then Jamie started talking about London, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I didn’t want to blow all my savings on a trip in case I did decide to go.’

I chew my lip as I remember us arguing about it.

‘He said he couldn’t understand why I would happily leave Oakwood to travel around Europe with my mother, yet I wouldn’t commit to moving to London with him.’

Flynn arches his brows. ‘It’s hardly the same.’

‘No. But he didn’t want to hear that.’