Cosy Christmas ✓

1 / winter's here

"What's up?" he asked when he finally managed to answer the call, tucking his other hand into his armpit.

"Hey, you still in the shop?" Cass asked. There was a rustling on the other end of the line, her voice muffled as she spoke through a mouthful.

"Yup. Got everything you asked for." He glanced down at the basket, where only a couple of the several items were for him. His sister was always cooking, whisking up a storm in the kitchen and leaving the debris in her wake, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was doing it as some kind of distraction. Not one to pry, he hadn't pressed Cass for an answer, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to what had happened. Through his powers of deduction, he knew she had dropped out of university, but she was quiet on the subject.

"Awesome. Can you get me some pads?"

Connor frowned. "What's that?

She snorted a laugh and he imagined her spraying crumbs over herself. "You know, sanitary towels? Lady products?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure," he said, clutching the phone to his ear as he picked up the basket and headed back to the hygiene aisle, where he came across a bigger assortment than he had predicted, and he stared at the array, clueless. "Which ones?"

"Whatever they have," she said. "As long as they have wings. Make sure they have wings."

Connor raised his eyebrows, mildly confounded. He had never had so substantial a relationship that he'd had any reason to get acquainted with such things, and Cass had been a child when he had left home nine years ago. "Wings? What does that mean?"

Cass sighed. "Just look at the packet," she said. "Or find a woman. Someone with a clue."

"Ok. See you later," he said, and once he had hung up he tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared at the shelves. Too many options, like toothpaste. He had no idea what was right, but he wasn't about to admit to his sister that he had been beaten by her request for pads.

He wasn't alone in the shop, as it turned out. A woman appeared at the other end of the aisle, one hand gripping her basket while the other rested on her huge bump. Connor knew there were certain rules surrounding pregnancy, in that he shouldn't, but there was no way that it was anything other than a baby beneath her jumper, the fabric straining over her stomach and distorting the face of a reindeer. She walked slowly as though every step was an immense effort, her nose red from the cold and her blonde hair swept into a mess by the wind, and Connor turned his attention back to the shelf when he realised his eyes had lingered on her too long. Coalden Valley was a small place, just a few thousand people, and he wasn't sure he had seen her before.

"You look a bit lost," she said, suddenly by his side with a bemused smile on her lips. Connor met her eye, her dark irises searching him. She was younger than he had first thought, probably closer to his own age than he had assumed. "What're you trying to find?"

She had sussed him out, and reached across him for a packet of painkillers before resting back on her heels. Connor gave an awkward laugh and tipped his head at the shelf. "Pads with wings," he said. The woman nodded and took a packet off the shelf, holding it out to him.

"These are my go-to," she said with a smile, and she chuckled. "Maybe tell your girlfriend to be a little more specific next time."

"Oh, no, it's for my sister," he said, and mentally kicked himself. As though that mattered to a stranger who clearly had bigger things on her mind. She gave him a grin and sidled past him, heading to the end of the aisle with her slow, calculated paces.

"In that case, tell your sister she has a very good brother," she said, and she looked over her shoulder at him. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Connor said, the words an automatic response that he despised, and he dropped the pads into his basket. He had a talent for embarrassing himself, one he had been honing since puberty, and it showed no sign of leaving any time soon.