by KT Webb
Almost as soon as the girls left, I started putting my plan in place. It all hinged on getting people to see that Old Roald has crossed too many lines to continue to go unchecked. I called Dr. Roald first. He agreed to make some calls of his own and have everyone meet me at the Wolfhound. I don’t know that I’m expecting very many people to show up when I haven’t given them much information, but I’m hoping I’ll at least have a few on my side. Now, Pat and I are pushing tables together and setting chairs around the makeshift meeting room. When Roald walks through the door, he’s followed by three other men. Patrick Baldwin, Roald II, and Curren Molloy followed the doctor into the pub.
“Gentlemen, please have a seat,” I gesture toward the tables.
“What’s going on, Gannon?” Curren questions as he sits down.
“I have a few things I’d like to discuss with you all about the eldest Roald.”
In other circumstances, I may have found their collective grumbles humorous. Today I’m more relieved to hear that they’re all in the same boat as I am. That makes this conversation much more straightforward. I’m not surprised to see Baldwin or either of the younger Roald’s here, but I am amazed that Curren came. He is Molly’s grandfather, and one of the younger Molloy siblings. Perhaps he knows his granddaughter has been spending time with Blake. Or he may have heard about what happened to Molly’s car, though I’m not sure how. I’ve never had any issues with that branch of the Molloy family tree, so I’m glad he’s part of this gathering. Especially since his son is the manager of the dairy.
“I’m sure you all know about the altercation at my pub a few months ago that led to me removing Roald from the premises. And everyone has undoubtedly heard about what happened to Blake’s hand,” I pause to make sure everyone is following along.
“Can you tell me what exactly happened to her hand? I heard Roald had something to do with it, but he doesn’t exactly volunteer information. Not that I’ve tried to talk to him recently,” Curren shrugs.
Before I can answer, Dr. Roald clears his throat and puts a file on the table. “I probably shouldn’t be showing anyone these x-rays, but I think it will help with the explanation. If you look here, you can see where the bone is fractured. It was a clean break, so she healed pretty quickly. I’ll let Gannon tell you what happened.”
I nod in his direction, a silent “thank you” for his support. “The day after Roald confronted Blake at my pub, he showed up at the cottage. Blake tried to be civil and reintroduce herself to him. Instead of trying to handle the situation like an adult, Roald struck her with that stupid cane.”
“Is that true, son?” Roald II speaks up.
“I wasn’t there, but I believe Blake and Gannon without a doubt. Aoife was there right after it happened and told grandpa to get off the property. The injury is consistent with one that could be sustained in that manner,” Dr. Roald explains, his gaze never leaving his father.
“I wish I could say I was surprised by his actions, but he’s never been known for keeping his cool,” Roald II shook his head sadly.
“What was this about?” Curren questioned.
Now it’s Baldwin’s turn to share his piece of the story. “According to the will left by Brion, the land, the Molloy Bed and Breakfast, and the Molloy Dairy have all been left to Blake. We all know Roald has been desperate to get his hands on the family estate since Brion and Imogen left.”
“Christ. He assaulted a young girl, not just any young girl, but his own flesh and blood, over a stupid grudge?” Curren slams his hand on the table.
I can feel myself physically relax, knowing that these men are as level-headed as I’ve always thought them to be. They understand what Roald did is wrong, and they don’t even know the latest. I have a feeling Curren is going to blow his top when he hears that Molly has become a target too.
“Now, I understand that there’s some bad blood between all of your siblings and your oldest brother, Brion. But Blake isn’t her grandfather. She shouldn’t be abused because of something out of her control,” Pat adds.
“Not to mention that because Molly has become close to Blake, she’s been the victim of some of that abuse,” I drop the bomb and wait for the fallout.
Curren immediately reacts, “What’s happened to Molly? Why haven’t I heard about this?”
His reaction is completely justified, but I need to reel him back in if I’m going to get the point across. I tell the story of what happened last night. To maintain credibility, I tell them that I did stay the night in the cottage with the girls. They need to know how rattled it made Blake and Molly knowing someone had been at and possibly in the cottage while they were gone. As I tell the story, Curren grows steadily red in the face. He’s about to explode, and I’m relieved it won’t be aimed at me.
“Alright, now I know my da is a bit of an arsehole, but what proof do we have that he was responsible for what happened to Molly’s car?” Roald II asks.
“Da, I know you didn’t have the best childhood. I remember you telling us how you wanted to be the best da you could to make sure we never felt what you felt,” Dr. Roald is staring directly at his father.
“Well, now, that was different than what you’re accusing him of now,” Roald II protests.
“How? Tell me how it was different, da. Don’t pretend you never saw that cane raised in your direction, even as a child!” Dr. Roald slams his hand on the table, tears are beginning to form in his eyes.
Roald II is dumbfounded. I don’t think any of the rest of us knew Old Roald had been physically abusive to his family. The worst part is it doesn’t seem to surprise a single person around the table.
“Alright, son. I know you’re right, I’m sorry. He’s still my da, you know. I don’t want to condemn him without evidence,” Roald II hangs his head slightly
Everyone else around the table turns their attention toward him. We don’t have any proof. That’s what makes this whole situation so frustrating. We know who is responsible, but without any substantial evidence, we can’t do anything about it. I can tell from the conflicted expression on Roald II’s face that he knows his father is the guilty party.
“Come on, Roald. We all know what this is truly about. Your father never got over the fact that Brion and Imogen ended up together,” Curren insists.
I perk up at this. A chance to finally hear the story of what happened to cause so much bad blood between them has never presented itself so readily. Watching Roald II and Curren stare at one another is mildly uncomfortable. As one of the younger brothers, Curren is only about fifteen years older than his nephew. He would have been a child when his eldest brother left Ireland. But children hear everything, and they are more perceptive than adults give them credit for. When all the drama took place, he was probably hiding around a corner, soaking it all in.
“If you know so much about it, then tell us,” Roald II waves his hand, indicating his uncle should continue.
“Roald and Imogen had been dating for a few years when it started. He liked having the prettiest girl around their age on his arm, but he didn’t seem to actually like her. She and Brion were much better suited to one another, and they fell in love. I was just a lad, but as far as I know, there wasn’t a scandal or cheating. Imogen ended things with Roald and married Brion less than a year later,” Curren shrugs.
“If that’s all, why is grandpa so bent out of shape?” Dr. Roald is skeptical.
“As we all know, Roald is a stubborn old bastard. He didn’t like that Imogen ended things with him and chose his brother. Even more than that, he didn’t like that they were so happy together. He ended up marrying Imogen’s best friend – the girl had been head over heels in love with Roald for years,” Curren shares.
“Well, when we were kids, we always knew the love was one-sided. He treated mum with indifference while she gave him the world,” Roald II shakes his head sadly.
I sit silently for a few moments, processing the information. If Roald wasn’t in love with Imogen, why did it both
er him so much that she found love elsewhere? Did he really envy his brother so much that he couldn’t stand to see him happy? I can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Colleen, the woman who stood by Roald until her death. Who knows what she saw in him? She must have been a saint. Colleen gave him her life and three children. Roald II’s older sisters live in Northern Ireland with their families. It’s probably for the best that they distanced themselves from all the tension.
“I think a lot of this would be solved if grandpa knew how to let go of things. He didn’t like that Brion ended up with Imogen in the first place, then to have Brion emigrate while keeping the estate? It just added insult to injury,” Dr. Roald simplifies the entire conversation.
I nod in agreement, but have one more thing to add, “And now that Blake is here and taking the steps she needs to in an effort to get a handle on the estate, he sees her as the enemy.”
“So, what can we do?” Pat asks the million-euro question.
No one speaks for a time. My mind wanders to how everything would be better if Roald would just kick the bucket. Of course, I remind myself that wishing him dead might fix the problem, but it isn’t right. The main issue Blake is facing is the unknown; she believes the entire Molloy clan feels the same as Roald. Even her grandfather thought that was the case! Maybe if they would show her a little decency, and stand up to Roald, things would improve.
“I reported him to the Garda for the assault,” Dr. Roald blurts out.
This is about to get interesting. I look back and forth between father and son, wondering if I’m about to witness a row. Roald II is stoic as he stares at his son. It’s almost as though he’s deciding if he should commend or condemn his son. Thankfully, Baldwin breaks in to ease the tension.
“Good on ya, mate! I have to say, I did too,” Baldwin nudges his cousin.
“I felt I had the moral responsibility to file a formal complaint. Blake was scared. She doesn’t know Roald from Adam, yet he’s verbally and physically assaulted her. Now, he’s skulking around her cottage and slicing tires? Where does it end?” Dr. Roald seems to be daring his father to defy his logic.
Curren looks as though Christmas has come early. I’m reasonably sure his childhood was marked by the cruel and unjust treatment of this particular older brother. To hear that he’d been reported for an assault probably fills him with a grim kind of glee. As for Pat and I, we’ve had to physically remove the man from the pub so many times we’ve lost count. The Roald’s are still squaring off without moving a muscle. From the look on Roald II’s face, it won’t be long before he admits that his son did the right thing.
“The times Blake has been to my office to talk about the estate, she has been wrought with worry about what consequences may befall her if she doesn’t give the inheritance to Roald instead. She shouldn’t be left in fear of a man who has already caused her physical injury,” Baldwin insists.
I wholeheartedly agree with him, and that brings us to the root of this gathering. I want to gauge their personal feelings about the situation before I ask them to help ease the tension. With the exception of Old Roald, the Molloy clan is easy-going.
“I think we’ve all come to the conclusion that Roald is a bastard. No one questions that. What I need to know is if you will help Blake or if you’re going to follow the example set by Roald,” I lay it all on the table.
“You already know where I stand,” Dr. Roald offers a dip of his head while maintaining eye contact with me.
“Team Blake!” Baldwin cheers, pumping a fist in the air.
I can’t help but laugh at his energetic reaction. Patrick Baldwin has been a jovial man as long as I’ve known him. He always weighs the right and wrong of every situation and makes decisions based on his conclusions. It’s part of the reason I asked both him and Dr. Roald to join us; I knew where they fell on the subject. Roald II and Curren are another story. I’m not sure where either of them stands at this point. I know what they think of Old Roald, but that doesn’t mean they’ll choose to help Blake.
“At this time, I would prefer to remain neutral. I’ll talk to my father about his behavior, but it doesn’t feel right to go against him,” Roald II shrugs apologetically.
Curren shakes his head at his nephew, “My allegiance goes with Molly. My granddaughter has always had impeccable taste in the company she keeps. She’s bold and blunt. I don’t think Molly would choose to befriend Blake if there was any reason to think Blake had nefarious intentions.”
“Thank you, gentlemen. Roald, I understand your position and appreciate that you’re willing to speak to your father. That alone may do better than any of us can guess. Perhaps having his own son point out that his actions are unacceptable will show him the error of his ways,” I say with a small smile.
Pat and I shake hands with each of them and bid them farewell, locking the pub behind them. I already know Pat has been holding his tongue regarding my ulterior motives, and now that we’re alone, he won’t be so restrained.
“Go ahead, Pat. I know that mind has been racing since I asked for your help with the tires. Give it to me,” I motion with my hand to let him know I’m ready.
Pat shrugs, “Gan, I know you’re not ready to admit the real reason you’re doing all this, but when you least expect it, it’s going to hit you. After Madigan, you shut yourself off from the world. It’s like you’ve been on autopilot for years.”
This is not where I expected this to go. I figured Pat would tease me about having feelings for Blake again. I thought he’d make lewd innuendos about the actions I should take to get it out of my system. When I pour us each a glass of whiskey, he knows it’s his signal to continue. Pat takes a seat at the bar.
“In the few months since you met Blake, you’ve changed. It’s like you’ve come back. The old Gannon has returned, and I’ve missed him. For this first time since Mads left, you’ve been the man I know you’ve been holding back. I think it’s all down to Blake. You may insist that the two of you are friends, but you want more. Whether you’re ready to admit it or not, you’re head over heels for this girl.”
Huh. Well, again, not what I expected, but this is almost better. My first instinct is to vehemently object to the bold accusations. The part of me that knows Pat is right is holding that objection at bay. I think about the person I was just a few months ago. Blake pointed it out right away, I think she called me surly. I’ve been so busy building up walls to protect myself from anything like Madigan happening again that I didn’t realize I was blocking out the best parts of myself. The change was so unexpected that I can’t even pinpoint the moment I relaxed enough to let Blake beyond those walls.
I run a hand through my hair, then bring it down to stroke my beard while I think about how to respond. I can’t remember the last time Pat and I had an in-depth conversation about me or my feelings. I’ve worked hard to make those feelings practically non-existent. Could he be right? I know I definitely have some kind of feelings for Blake, but could it really be love?
“I’ll take your silence as an admission of my genius,” Pat takes a drink of whiskey.
I laugh out loud. Pat is a genius, but I can’t admit that to him. He’d never let me hear the end of it.
“And, I’ll take your laughter as acceptance of your feelings for Blake,” Pat is pointing at me with a mirthful expression.
“Now, don’t let his go to your head, but there may be some truth in what you say. I’m going to need to do some thinking about this.”
“You do that,” Pat chuckles as I down my whiskey in one drink.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be back home. I haven’t told Molly about the drunken conversation with Gannon the other night. Right now, I kind of want to keep it to myself until I see where things go. I haven’t spoken to Gannon since that call, part of me wonders if I dreamt the whole thing and he’ll think I’m crazy. When Molly drops me off at my cottage, I feel like a teenager thinking everyone is watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
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“Hey Blake, I was thinking that maybe you should sing with the band sometime. You’re a Molloy too. Maybe we can change the name,” Molly winks at me.
“Very funny, let’s not rush into anything,” I laugh as I walk toward my door.
“See you later!” Molly waves to me as she drives off.
The first thing I do after dropping my duffle bag on the couch is turn on my coffeemaker. I’m exhausted from our trip, but it’s early evening, and I still want to visit Aoife before bed. I put my dirty clothes in the washing machine while the coffee brews. A knock at my door puts a grin on my face. I know it’s Gannon. I’m sure he saw Molly drop me off and came right over. When I open the door, Gannon is standing outside, trying to look natural, leaning against the doorframe.