Maggie pulled back and patted his cheek tenderly, the one she’d slapped only a minute ago. “You’re not awful. You’re just idiotic at times, but you’re a man, so it’s not all your fault.”
Ciara and I chuckled, despite the tension that was palpable and hovering around us. Maggie seemed like a nice girl; I was sure she would get him home safe, and would probably give him a piece of her mind in the morning. Which he totally deserved.
“Come on now. Sleepy time. Let’s get you home all in one piece, shall we?” She stood up and offered him her hand. He looked at her, then turned to look at Ciara and me, and back at his sister before taking her hand.
She pulled him up with a “Humph!” and when he staggered and leaned against her, I noticed she was, just like Kathy, a good few inches shorter than him. Funny how both his sisters were tiny little things but seemed to have kickass personalities inside those pixie bodies. Looking at the big guy leaning helpless against the short girl was cute, in spite of it all.
Stop thinking about him as cute! the annoying voice inside my head reminded me, and I wished I could just make it shut up.
“Where’s your car? Do you at least remember that?” Maggie’s tone was all business, and when David waited a couple of beats to reply, she rolled her eyes. “You really are an arsehole, David Sean O’Hagan. Wait till I tell Mum; she’ll be delighted to hear all about her beloved responsible eldest child acting like a freaking teenager.”
David groaned and leaned a little more into Maggie, causing her to stagger. “Please, don’t tell Mum. I had my reasons. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Yeah, I know. Michelle dumped you.” David frowned and stared at his sister. “Ciara told me. Said she couldn’t call Michelle because you broke up.”
He turned and put his hands on Maggie’s shoulders, staring straight at her. “She said I’m crazy, but you know I’m not crazy, right? You know Declan is here. I’m not crazy, Mag.”
Maggie stiffened, and a shadow crossed over her face as she pursed her lips and tightened her grip around her brother’s waist. Was he referring to what I’d said? Was he upset because I’d said he was crazy for wanting to drive in that state? Yes, his reaction had been a little over the top, but I surely didn’t think he’d go telling his sister and bitch about me. And what did his brother have to do with all this, now?
“Of course you’re not, Dave. Let’s go now, come on. Tell me where your car is.” Maggie patted his chest lightly. Her tone resembled that of a mother soothing her child after a bad dream, and he nodded and frowned, wrinkling his nose as he thought really hard.
A second later his face lit up and he grinned. “It’s across the bridge, past the fire station.”
“Thank goodness for that. I wouldn’t have managed to drag you much farther.” She turned to us, smiled, and thanked us again for taking care of David.
He gave us one last grin, a smile that was enough to cause my stomach to turn upside-down and inside-out, and his gaze lingered a few seconds on me, his hazy blue eyes piercing mine.
“Sweet dreams, Claire.”
Maggie pulled him away and he tripped on his feet, but managed to straighten. Ciara and I watched them walk away, and as soon as they were out of sight I let out the breath I’d been holding and turned toward Ciara. She stared at me with a quirked eyebrow and a half-grin.
“What was that all about?”
I frowned, intentionally playing dumb. “What?”
I’d never been good at acting, never made it into the school recitals. And apparently, my acting skills hadn’t improved, since Ciara rolled her eyes and pointed her thumb in the direction David and Maggie had disappeared.
“Sweet dreams, Claire.” She mimicked David’s tone and added a couple of kissing sounds for good measure. My face heated, and I hoped she wouldn’t notice it in the dark.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrugged. I was such a terrible liar. “First of all, he was drunk, and he only said goodnight. No big deal.”
“You tell yourself that. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the alcohol giving him puppy eyes.”
We crossed the street and saw a taxi approach. Ciara put out a hand and stopped it. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, you know where I live.” She winked at me, and I chuckled, even though I wasn’t feeling the slightest bit amused. Was she implying that David liked me? I was pretty sure he hadn’t looked at me with puppy eyes, but if Ciara had understood something from my behavior I wasn’t going to live it down.
“I thought we were going to walk?” I asked, deftly changing the subject as soon as we were inside the small confines of the taxi and she’d given the driver our address.
Ciara shrugged. “Too much excitement in one night. I need to snuggle up in my bed A.S.A.P. Walking would have killed me.”
I leaned back against the seat, and closed my eyes for a moment. David’s sad face was the first thing I saw, and my chest constricted. He’d looked so pained, and I was starting to doubt it had been all because of Michelle.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook, missus.”
I opened my eyes and frowned at Ciara’s words. She grinned wickedly. “We’re going to have a long, serious talk tomorrow.”
“Weren’t you supposed to go away with Aidan this weekend?” Please say yes, please say yes. I would never manage to stand a serious talk, which in Ciara’s language meant an interrogation. I knew from experience that I’d never be able to lie openly to her in the light of day.
Ciara grunted. “Humph. I’d forgotten. Well, then, we’ll talk when I’m back on Sunday evening. I know you’re hiding something, and I want all the dirty details.”
I laughed and pulled out my purse to pay the driver as he stopped in front of our house. I refrained from telling her I wished there actually were dirty details to share with her, instead of this one-way, totally unrequited kind of love. Hopefully by Sunday night I would be able to come up with a good story she would buy. If not, I would be in big trouble.
Chapter 14
David
After the catastrophic talk with Michelle and the killer hangover I woke up to on Saturday, I promised myself I would never in my life get drunk again. I moped around the house like a zombie all day, causing my mother to frown at me more than once while I wished she would just let me be. If I had my own place, I would’ve been able to hide away all day and wait for the hangover to pass without anyone knowing. I should start seriously looking at ads, one of these days.
Maggie visited me in my room after lunch, and when she closed the door behind her, I knew she meant business. Instead of yelling at me and calling me all the possible names on earth, she’d surprised me by sitting on my bed and asking me what the previous night had all been about. I didn’t go into the details, but I briefly told her about my chat with Michelle. Maggie had hugged me and told me she’d never liked Michelle anyway, and we’d ended up sharing memories about Declan when he was still living at home.
I declined my friend’s invitation to meet at the pub on Saturday night, and briefly mentioned Michelle and I had broken up so they didn’t question my wanting to stay at home, even though it really had nothing to do with Michelle and our break-up and all with the killer hangover and my need for extra sleep.
When I woke up on Sunday morning, sweat was trickling down the sides of my head and beading along my spine. I’d had another nightmare, one that had felt even more real than the previous times. I was starting to have enough of this game my brother was playing with my mind, and after my heart returned to a normal rate I took a shower and, without stopping in the kitchen for a coffee, I got into my car and went to the cemetery.
Visiting Declan’s grave was something I always preferred doing when none of my family members were around. I’d usually sit by the engraved stone with my legs crossed Indian-style, and would talk to him, knowing he could hear me even though he couldn’t reply. Usually, when I was at a lower point than usual, I’d close my eyes and feel the warm e
mbrace Kathy had mentioned to us, the one that always filled me with peace. My brother couldn’t talk to me the way I would’ve liked him to, but he still managed to comfort me when I needed him. Michelle could say whatever she wanted about me, but when Kathy had told us the truth, I’d never doubted for a moment that Declan was still around.
Today I let out my frustration for the way Michelle had behaved, and for the way things had ended, and I apologized to Declan for getting drunk and wanting to drive anyway. I was pretty sure that he’d been the one to send Ciara and Claire my way, to stop me from doing something totally idiotic that would have caused my parents unbelievable grief. I didn’t remember much of what happened with Claire and Ciara, though; I vaguely remembered them standing by me and calling Maggie, but everything else was rather fuzzy.
The familiar warmth engulfed me when I stood up and said goodbye to my brother, patting the cold stone as if I were patting his shoulder. Tears filled my eyes, and I let them fall freely. These were the only times I allowed myself to grieve—when none of my family members could see me. To them, I needed to be the strong son and brother, but here, in the quiet of the cemetery, I could be the broken boy who still missed his brother like crazy.
I walked toward the exit with my head hanging down to avoid meeting other people’s eyes, and my stomach grumbled, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast in my haste of coming here, so I quickened my pace.
“David?”
I was lost in a world of my own, just like I was every time I came to visit my brother’s grave, so when I heard someone call my name I abruptly snapped out of it, and spun my head toward whomever had spoken. It took me a moment to recognize the girl standing only a few feet away from me, wearing a pair of stretch pants that clung to her slender body and a baggy gray hoodie. It was because of the baseball cap, which hid her trademark ginger hair, that it took me longer than normal to recognize her, but when her brown eyes locked with mine, narrowing a little when she saw my troubled face, I knew exactly who she was. The girl who had been troubling my mind ever since she crashed into me.
I knew I must look like hell the moment she stared harder at me and her face fell. My light blue eyes always gave me away, whenever I cried—or was hung-over—and I wished I hadn’t forgotten my sunglasses. Or that I’d been able to hold back the tears, like I’d become so good at doing.
“Um… are you all right?” Claire asked in a tiny voice, forcing me to step toward her.
I nodded, keeping my hands inside my brother’s coat. It was one of the things I’d stolen from his wardrobe, before my mother decided to give all of his clothes to charity, and just like every item that had belonged to him, I treasured it.
She quirked an eyebrow, but it didn’t annoy me like it did whenever Michelle questioned my answers. Bad move, David. No comparing Michelle and Claire.
“I’m… allergic.” I shrugged, as if it was no big deal. Too bad my tear-stained cheeks weren’t helping my case. “It must be some plants in the cemetery. What are you doing around here? It’s a bit far out from Salthill.”
“Bit of jogging. The weather was too nice to stay cooped up in my room and I wanted a change of scenery from the usual jog along the Prom.”
She stared at me from underneath the rim of her cap, and when her brown eyes held mine, I knew she wasn’t buying any of my lies.
“Were you visiting your brother?” She nodded toward the entrance of the cemetery, and my heart dropped to my feet. Would I be able to talk about Declan without bursting into tears like a kid, now that I was still emotionally shaken? I didn’t understand why, but a little voice inside me told me that, unlike Michelle, she’d be a good listener.
“Yes.”
“How long’s it been?” She tucked her MP3 player into a small purse around her waist, and looked up at me again.
“It’ll be two years in January.” I kicked at an imaginary pebble on the pavement, and felt as if a small part of the burden in my stomach had lifted. Was I imagining it?
“The grief must still be fresh,” she all but whispered in a tone that made her sound as if she knew what I was going through. “Was he younger or older?”
“Older by two years. He was twenty-seven when he died.” I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it didn’t move an inch. “A bloody drunk driver didn’t stop at the light and hit their car. Kathy was in the car too, but luckily she survived while Declan died on impact.”
She let out a gasp and brought a hand to her heart. When I looked at her, I saw her eyes had filled with tears. She blinked them away and I felt something warm my heart—something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Especially not when I talked about the accident—not that I talked about it much.
“That’s terrible. I hadn’t realized Kathy had been involved, too. I’m so sorry, David.”
I gave her a weak smile, and shrugged again. I didn’t want to start crying in front of her, but the lump in my throat was growing thicker and threatened to choke me.
“I lost a sister.” Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip, as if she hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. “It’s been a long time, but it still hurts. So I know how you’re feeling.”
“Was she young when she died?” I regretted not changing the subject when her eyes brimmed with tears again, this time spilling over. I took a step closer to her and reached out my hand to pat her upper arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to talk about it.”
She shook her head and gave me a small smile. “It’s okay. I just… I haven’t talked about her in a long, long time. My mum… she didn’t like being reminded of how our lives fell apart after that day.”
I motioned toward the red bench by the bus stop; she nodded and sat down next to me. I was glad we were alone; I didn’t really want other people to spoil this moment, whatever it was.
“She was eight when she died. We were. She was my twin.”
“That’s awful, I’m so sorry.” I knew it was kind of lame to say that, but it really was. At least I’d had Declan for twenty-five years. And I’d bet losing a twin was even harder. “Was she sick?”
She shook her head. “We were playing with a kite we’d built. We loved building kites with our parents. The day was too windy and the kite got caught up in the boughs of a tree. I went to call our Mum so she could bring out a ladder, but Aoife… well, she’d always been the wild one, so while I went inside she’d climbed up the tree.” She took a long breath and cleared her throat. “When we came out, Mum screamed at her to stay still until she could go up and pull her down, but the bough cracked and she fell. It wasn’t that high up in the tree, but she hit her head and was in a coma for a week before she died.”
Blood froze in my veins and my heart turned to ice. “Oh, Claire. I’m sorry. It must’ve been awful, with her—hell both of you being so young.”
She wiped away a tear from her cheek, and my heart broke for her. I knew how much losing a sibling hurt, and she looked so vulnerable I wanted to reach out and wrap my arm around her shoulder, pull her close and let her cry against my chest, but I recoiled when I reminded myself that she wasn’t one of my little sisters. We were colleagues, and I couldn’t overstep that fine line if I didn’t want to get into trouble. She could lose her job, and I’d feel awful if I were the cause of it. Nobody said we couldn’t be friends, though, right? There was nothing wrong with that, and I felt she needed a friend who knew what she was going through.
“My mum never really recovered from that. Nobody in our family did,” she went on, her voice cracking a little. “Dad thought it was Mum’s fault because she didn’t pay enough attention to us. He left us after a few months, and I blamed myself for tearing our family apart. I shouldn’t have left Aoife alone. I should’ve known she would climb the tree…”
“Oh c’mon now, you were only a child yourself. I’m sure nobody blamed you for what happened to your sister.”
She shrugged as she fidgeted with the zip of her purse. She looked so defenseless I h
ad a hard time keeping my hands stuck in my pockets. “Are you still in touch with your father?”
She looked up, and stared straight ahead at the cars passing on the street. “I haven’t heard much from him since. I know he owns a bar in Tenerife now, has a new family with a couple of children, but he hasn’t been back to Ireland in a long time. He didn’t come back for Mum’s funeral—said his youngest was sick and he couldn’t leave his wife alone to deal with him.” She let out a wry chuckle, and my heart broke just a little bit more for her. “Funny how he didn’t worry too much about leaving his first wife with an eight-year-old, but he couldn’t leave his current wife to deal with a simple case of flu.”
“Your mum died?” I didn’t want to snoop, but I wanted to help her by sharing a little of her burden of pain. She looked as if she needed someone to do that for her.
“A few months ago.” Her tone was distant, as if she were talking about someone else’s life. As much as I was hurting, I couldn’t even try to imagine how awful and lonely she must feel. “She never really got over losing Aoife, but after Dad left she had to pull herself together to take care of me. She worked two jobs to secure a roof over our heads. Then three years ago she discovered she was sick. Cancer. I was here in Galway, so she didn’t say anything until after I got my degree. By then she’d already started losing her hair, and the doctor said there was nothing else they could do. When I went back home to spend a little time with her, I was welcomed by the fantastic news. I packed up my life and went back to Tralee for good, to be with her.”
I pulled my hands out of my pockets and managed to stop myself just in time, before I did something really stupid. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to pull her to my chest and promise I’d take care of her, that I’d make the pain go away. I was being ridiculous. I’d just broken up with my girlfriend; I should be at least a little sad and not at all ready to start another relationship, but when it came to Claire… I lost all sense of reason.
Finding Our Hearts Page 12