My Pear-Shaped Life: The most gripping and heartfelt page-turner of 2020!

by Harrington, Carmel

  ‘Then we drive on,’ Ray said.

  ‘And at least you’ll know. But … imagine this for a second … maybe she’s been thinking about you all these years too. Wouldn’t that be something?’

  ‘It will be enough to see her again. See how her life has turned out. To know she’s happy. But yes, that would be something quite wonderful.’

  Chapter 18

  The rest of their journey went by without a hitch. They transferred flights in Toronto and arrived in Kansas International Airport at four p.m. They got a bus to the car rental terminal to collect their hire car. Greta left Ray to it and sat down with their bags and her phone.

  Dylan: Well have you landed?

  To answer or not to answer. Greta closed her phone.

  They grabbed their bags and discovered when they went outside that it had been snowing. Heavily. They walked carefully until they found their car, which was covered in snow.

  ‘It’s bigger than I thought it would be,’ Ray said as he loaded their bags into the boot of the black Chevrolet Suburban he’d rented. ‘So remind me, what side of the road do they drive on again?’

  When Greta gasped, he winked at her. And without any issue, he got them out of the airport and on the right road. Snowploughs had been out, and the streets were gritted and clear. With every passing mile, Greta’s respect for her uncle grew. There was a lot more to him than most thought.

  ‘This was worth every extra cent.’ Ray pointed to the satellite navigation system that was on the window. He knew his niece. She could get lost in a department store, so no way was he leaving the directions up to her. ‘First things first, let’s go into this gas station and fill this baby up.’

  While Ray pumped the gas, Greta went into the shop to buy road-trip snacks. When she was in rehab, she’d discussed her emotional eating habits, which died hard, it seemed. She needed something from the old Greta right now, and this came in the form of crisps, chocolate bars, biscuits, peanuts and cans of soda. She felt guilt with every ping of the barcode scanner. When Ray raised his eyes in question, she replied, ‘It doesn’t matter how old we are, road-trip snacks should always look like they were bought by an eight-year-old. And my eight-year-old self likes sugar,’ she joked, trying to hide her anxiety.

  Greta waited for a think-of your-waistline recrimination from him. But all he said was, ‘I’ve always wondered what a Twinkie was.’ He picked up the bar for closer inspection.

  ‘No lecture about eating healthily?’

  ‘You’re an adult, Greta, and if you want a chocolate bar, you should eat one.’

  ‘I’m not planning on eating them all now. We’ll leave them in the boot, and if the need hits us, then we’re sorted.’

  ‘Good plan.’

  ‘You know, Dad would have had a field day chastising me for getting these sweets.’

  ‘Well, first of all, I’m not your dad, so it’s easy for me not to have to chastise you. And second of all, I don’t think Stephen means to do that. It’s just … he’s spent his whole life being an over-achiever. And he had our parents on his back constantly telling him how they were relying on him to succeed. That’s a lot of pressure. I don’t think he’s ever found a way to release that. Or maybe he has with his running. I’m not excusing him. I know he’s been hard on you. I’m just trying to explain.’

  ‘He’s been OK since I got home. But it still feels awkward. Like we are both stepping on eggshells around each other.’

  ‘That will get better. Give him a chance. You were very honest telling him how you felt at therapy. But that must have been hard for him to hear. He’s been thinking of little else, if I know my big brother at all. And he’s been beating himself up for upsetting you like that. He loves you. There’s no doubt about that.’

  Greta didn’t want her dad to feel bad. They had all wasted too much time feeling guilty about things they couldn’t change. Maybe, by the time she got back, things would be a little less tense. She’d make it her business to make it so.

  They made their way into Kansas City, where Ray had booked a hotel for their first night. But other than that, they were going to wing it and stay wherever made sense each night. Ray had to drive at a snail’s pace as they made their way to the Raphael Hotel. Trees covered in powdery white snow lined the Shawnee River, which ran across the road from the hotel. It was beginning to get dark, and Kansas City was bathed in an orange glow, from flickering fairy lights.

  With the car parked, Greta looked up at the grand hotel in front of them. The Raphael Hotel was framed by two massive pillars, an archway of golden light between them. ‘It’s so pretty and looks so posh. I feel like I should have dressed up more.’ She brushed some crumbs off her black tunic, remnants from the flight. No matter how hard she tried, she always managed to spill food down herself when she ate, thanks to her more-than-ample boobs getting in the way of the cutlery. She’d lost count of the times her brothers had teased her about this at meal times. And each time, Greta would Big G it up, and laugh along with them. Shovelling down her pain with a second helping of whatever was on offer.

  ‘We can’t get used to this type of luxury,’ Ray said, smiling. ‘It’s a treat to start us off. But we’ll have to stay in more modest motels for the rest of the road trip.’

  ‘That’s fine with me,’ Greta said. ‘I’m still a bit overwhelmed about all of this. I can’t quite believe we are here.’ She dropped her bags to her feet and threw herself into her uncle’s arms, like she used to do as a little girl. He laughed as he returned the hug, and all of his doubts about the trip disappeared.

  ‘I’m really grateful. I know this must be costing you a fortune. I’ll pay you back every cent.’

  ‘No you won’t. I’m paying for this trip because I want to. It’s my pleasure to treat you. Sure what are uncles for? I can hardly believe that only a few days ago, at this time, I’d be about to get the bus home from work.’ He stopped and looked at Greta. ‘Let’s just grab this holiday by the scruff of its neck and shake every bit of adventure we can from it. That’s all the payment I need. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ Greta smiled, then stopped to take a photo of the hotel entrance for Instagram.

  Her room was beautiful. Yellow gingham wallpaper framed the giant king-size bed, which had gorgeous bed linen, in greens and yellows and brilliant whites. She threw herself on the bed and sank into the soft pillow top mattress. Despite the long flight, Greta felt wide awake and alert. They had decided to go out straight away and find somewhere to eat. Kansas City was renowned for its BBQs and jazz, so they were going to look for that. As she lay on the bed, she felt a familiar pull of anxiety nip at her. What if she couldn’t sleep over here? Maybe her mother was right, it was too soon for her to go away.

  Before she left, she rang Noreen to tell her about the trip and promised her she’d find a NA meeting while on the road. She’d been supportive about the trip and told her not to worry about her sleeping patterns too much. Stress was counterproductive. Greta supposed that she could sleep in the car tomorrow if she struggled tonight. Ray had already said as much to her. And she could go to bed early tomorrow night.

  She snapped a pic of the room, then sent it to the family WhatsApp group. Should she send it to Dylan? She still hadn’t answered his last two messages. She decided against it. Posting a bedroom pic seemed a bit weird. She shivered as she thought about the night she slept in his bed. What had happened that night? She kept replaying it over in her head but came up blank. She knew what Noreen would say. She had to just ask him. But that was easier said than done. She couldn’t find the words.

  Ray was waiting for her when she went back down to the lobby. Her heart squeezed as she took him in, standing at the foot of the stairs, holding a black folder in his hand. In a world of constant change, he still looked like the altar boy he’d been as a child. She’d never really thought about how he looked before. He was just her uncle. But he was also lonely and wanted to meet someone. Could she help him tweak his style a bit? She knew better tha
n most that first impressions mattered, and she wanted Billie to take the time to have a second glance. To see the man he was inside.

  She would have to do something about his hair, which he’d smoothed into place with half a tub of gel. It needed to look … less perfect. And his clothes didn’t help. There was nothing wrong with them – it was just that everything was too put together. Too square. Brown chinos, navy jumper, and the collar of a navy check shirt peeking out, with brown leather shoes.

  After a slippery start to their search for a jazz restaurant, they decided to go back and eat in the hotel restaurant. Greta still felt like she was in a dream. She wasn’t sure if it was the jet lag kicking in or the fact that this reality was such a stark contrast from where she had been only two weeks previously. The menu was so extensive, neither of them had the energy to make a decision on their own. They went for the waiter’s recommendation in the end and ordered the prime beef rib.

  ‘Don’t tell Mam, but this is the best roast beef I’ve had,’ Greta said as she cut into the tender and juicy meat.

  ‘Emily would have your head on a plate for that comment!’ Ray laughed.

  ‘So are you going to show me what’s in your folder?’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ Ray opened the folder and pulled out a typed A4 sheet, titled ‘Ray & Greta’s Epic Road Trip Wish List’. He’d typed up all the places they’d discussed visiting. ‘I think you should have first pick to tick off our first stop!’

  Greta grabbed his pen and put a large tick into the box beside Kansas City.

  ‘Tomorrow we’re going to the OZ Museum in Wamego?’ Greta asked.

  ‘We sure are. It’s about time the Kansas Gales said hello to the Dublin Gales.’

  Ray’s eyes locked on the next stop listed on their wish list – the largest ball of twine, in Cawker City. And he knew that there was only one wish he wanted to come true. But what about Billie? Had she thought about him too in the years since they had last seen each other?

  Chapter 19

  ‘I’ve been awake for hours!’ Greta admitted when Ray knocked on her door at eight a.m. She quickly added, when she saw the look of worry that fell over her uncle’s face, ‘But I slept before that, though.’

  The relief on his face was almost comical. ‘Your mother has already been in the family WhatsApp group checking up to see how you slept. How are we going to keep a lid on her this trip?’

  ‘Don’t even try. And, speaking of which, I promised we’d video-call her now. They are waiting for us. Let’s get it out of the way before we head out.’

  Greta and Ray sat down at the small table in her room, then waited for her phone to connect to her mother’s.

  The video-call connected and suddenly she was looking at her mother again.

  ‘Good morning from Ireland,’ her mother shouted.

  ‘Hi Mam. You don’t need to yell. Why are you looking so fancy?’ Greta asked, peering closely at the screen. Her mam was wearing a pink dress and jacket combo, with her best pearls. And she’d had her hair done too.

  ‘This old thing,’ Emily said.

  Ciaran’s face appeared beside Emily’s. ‘Mam thinks she’s on the telly. She’s changed twice.’

  Greta giggled. ‘You look very nice, Mam.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Emily smoothed her curly blow-dry with her hand, watching herself in the small box on the screen.

  Greta moved her phone around the room to show her mam.

  ‘Oh that’s lovely. I like that wallpaper. Stephen, wouldn’t that be lovely in our bedroom? Take a photo and send it to me, Greta. Or, better still, ask the concierge if they have a sample they can give you to stick in your case.’

  Greta crossed her fingers behind her back as she promised she’d do that. Sometimes it was easier to just agree with her mam. They chatted for a few minutes more, then said their goodbyes, promising to video-chat again soon.

  ‘I felt quite scruffy compared to Emily,’ Ray said.

  ‘Me too. We better up our game the next time! Imagine what she’d be like if she ever was on TV!’ Greta smiled. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking, are you sure you don’t want to skip the OZ Museum to go straight to Cawker City and find Billie?’

  Ray shook his head. ‘It’s too far to drive all the way to Cawker City in one go. We need to break up the journey somehow; makes sense to do so in Wamego. And as it’s so early, we’ve got time to have a drive around Kansas City before we leave too. Then we’ll make our way to Wamego. I’ve waited this long to find Billie, one more day won’t hurt.’

  ‘Are you stalling?’

  ‘One hundred per cent.’

  ‘At least you’re honest!’

  They went for a walk, taking photographs on the bridge opposite the hotel. It was so cold at five below that they felt their breath freeze as it left their mouths. As it was Sunday, and also because of the snow, the city was quiet. They decided to check out, and took a drive down Ward Parkway. The boulevard was beautiful, with wide, tree-lined avenues flanking large colonial houses. Fountains and statues were covered in snow.

  Hungry for breakfast, they made their way into the city centre when Greta spotted something. ‘Stop the car! Look at that, Uncle Ray!’ To their right was a row of brightly coloured mammoth book covers. They’d found the Kansas Public Library car park. The library was closed, but they stopped for a moment to take some photos of each other, standing underneath the children’s classics books, which included L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

  They found a diner a few blocks away. ‘It’s like a movie set, isn’t it? It’s got a Fifties vibe, as if time stood still,’ Ray whispered as a woman dressed in a green check dress, with a white apron tied at the waist, led them to their booth.

  ‘I’m half expecting John Travolta to come in singing “You’re the One That I Want”.’ Their booth came complete with its own wall-mounted jukebox.

  ‘Twenty-five cents for two picks,’ Greta announced, flicking through the choices, delighted when she found two Grease numbers.

  ‘I’ve never had eggs and bacon with pancakes. Gotta try that,’ Ray said, reading the breakfast options.

  Greta wanted pancakes too, but for some reason, Caroline’s face popped into her head. ‘Nourish your body, and you’ll nourish your mind.’ She tried to tell Caroline to feck off, but when their waitress Sherilyn came to take their order, she found herself ordering the egg white omelette with baby spinach, avocado, tomato salsa and turkey bacon.

  ‘How do you like your eggs cooked, honey?’ Sherilyn asked Ray.

  He looked panicked for a moment, then said with more authority than he felt: ‘Sunny side up.’ When she walked away, he grinned and said, ‘I’ve always wanted to say that, but I doubted myself for a minute.’

  ‘You do that a lot, Uncle Ray. Doubt yourself.’

  ‘Do I? And so do you.’

  ‘Yes, you do. And touché! But honestly, you should work on that. Because from where I’m sitting, you are one of the smartest guys I know.’

  ‘When you grow up hearing people say that you’re not the full shilling, you can’t help but believe it.’

  ‘I’ve never heard that,’ Greta lied, thinking of all the times her father had made fun of Ray. He was fond of saying, ‘The light’s on but sometimes no one is home, with our Ray.’ It always felt like banter, but – more than anyone – she knew how much that cut, no matter how light-hearted.

  ‘Maybe you should tell Dad to stop next time he says that.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Their waitress came back with drinks for them both, telling them she’d be back with their food shortly. ‘Y’all holler if you need anything.’

  ‘I could listen to her accent all day,’ Ray declared, adding milk to his coffee.

  ‘That’s because it reminds you of Billie’s voice, I bet,’ Greta teased.

  ‘She did used to say “y’all” a lot. But I can’t remember what she sounds like any more. I used to let our conversations, our many, many conversations, da
nce around in my brain. They’ve gotten a bit fuzzy now with time, I suppose. I tried to hold on to them for as long as possible. But then one day I woke up and I couldn’t find her in my head any more.’

  ‘I think long-distance relationships are easier now, with WhatsApp and FaceTime, et cetera,’ Greta said.

  ‘I remember all sorts of silly things. Like, her favourite book was Little Women. And she had this weird fascination with anything zombie-related. Her favourite movie was Dawn of the Dead.’

  ‘Don’t you love that show The Walking Dead, too?’ Greta asked. She couldn’t watch it; the walkers reminded her too much of the hooded man from her nightmares.

  ‘I never miss an episode. I often wonder if Billie is watching it too.’

  ‘It is a big show over here, so I’d say yes. You nervous about seeing her?’

  ‘I keep bouncing between hope and reality. I’ve left it too late. She’s probably forgotten who I am by now.’

  Greta knew that there was a strong possibility that Billie hadn’t given Ray a thought over the past twenty years. The mind has a habit of dumping memories of people who are no longer important to it. Greta couldn’t remember most of the names of her old classmates any more. Their faces had blurred too. Yet she could remember every single cast mate she’d ever performed with, right back to her drama-club days as a kid. You keep the stuff that’s important, she supposed. ‘If it meant so much to you, it stands to reason that it meant as much to her.’

  ‘Not enough to stay in touch with me, though. She walked away, not me. If I’m honest, Greta, I’m a bit worried about how I’ll react when I see her. I might hit the floor.’

  Greta thought about all the times that her uncle had been there for her, catching her when she fell. ‘If you fall, I’ll be your floor,’ Greta promised.

  ‘You might regret that. I’m heavy.’