To Love a Way of Life

by Natalie Hart

  “That will settle your stomach,” Peter said.

  “You haven’t talked to Patrick, have you?” She had to get it out of the way.

  “About Maia?” He said. “Not yet.”

  “So you know I know.”

  “I picked it up from what your friend was saying.”

  “She has a loud mouth,” Emma said.

  “Are you ok?” Peter asked. He had put his hand on Emma’s knee. He really did seem to care.

  “I didn’t want to find out the way I did, I wanted to learn about her from Patrick.”

  “Ok. I’ll say it to him if you want, and I’ll say no more to you. He can tell you everything.”

  “Do you think he’ll be angry?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Patrick angry,” Peter said. “Annoyed, yes. Ready for action, definitely. But angry at someone, and someone he cares about? That’s just not him.”

  “I don’t want to force the situation. I want him to be comfortable telling me.” Emma said.

  “It’s complex,” Peter said. “And you’re right, it’s better you hear it all from him. I’ll have a word with him this evening.”

  ***

  As Emma finished up her class she could see the looks of relief on everyone’s face. It had run longer than she had imagined. She had everything she wanted to cover out of the way after forty five minutes, it was the questions that kept everyone there.

  Both Peter and Patrick told Emma to go sit with her mother, they’d clear up her things.

  She sat next to her mother, “So Mam, you’ve seen me at work.”

  “You’re good,” she said. “And you look happier than I’ve seen you in weeks.”

  “I think I am happier.”

  “This country sun is good for you, you’re getting a little tan on your skin.”

  “That means I should wear more sunblock, Mam.”

  “You can get Patrick to apply it to your hard to reach places!” Mary said.

  “Jesus, Mam,” Emma said. “I hope your conversation on the drive down wasn’t like that.”

  “No, no fun at all. He was the perfect gentleman.”

  “He is a gentleman, he’s kind and he cares for me.”

  “I know,” she said. “I can see it in his eyes. He’s good for you.”

  Patrick and Peter joined them at the table. “My nose was itching,” Patrick said.

  “Yes, Mam was saying I’m lucky to have you,” Emma said.

  “I’m surprised you could pull him away from Stan,” Peter said. “They were nigh on inseparable.”

  “Where is Stan?” Emma asked.

  “Daniel has him,” Patrick said. “I didn’t want him in the car all the way up to the city and I didn’t want him left in the pub when you were setting up.”

  “Who’s the baby brother and who’s the older brother in the relationship?” Peter asked.

  “I think Stan thinks he’s in charge.”

  “At least you don’t think he’s your baby,” Mary said. “Some of those celebrities and the way they treat their pets. First class seats on flights and everything, it’s not like they don’t have real children.”

  Emma looked at Patrick, he was smiling at her, not a happy smile but kind and reassuring. She knew instantly Peter had talked to him. That he had let Patrick know Emma knew about Maia. His face filled with emotion, it was subtle and she didn’t think her mother noticed.

  “Will you help me carry down some drinks, Mary?” Peter asked. “It’d do me wonders to be seen with a woman around here.” He looked at Emma and gave her an encouraging smile.

  Mary stood and Peter took her arm, they both made their way to the bar.

  “I didn’t—“ Emma began.

  “I know you know about Maia,” Patrick said. “I wanted to tell you, but in the right way.”

  “I know that,” Emma said. “Mrs. Reidy let it out.”

  “Mrs. Reidy doesn’t have a clue what she’s talking about half the time. Her relish is good but she shoots her mouth off.”

  “I don’t want you to blame her,” Emma said.

  “I didn’t want you to find out like that,” he said. “I want you to know the full story, everything.”

  “That’s why you told me about your business in London,” she said. “You wanted to see how I’d take it.”

  “Yeah,” Patrick said. “If that didn’t sit well with you then I couldn’t tell you about Maia.”

  “I don’t care about your money, and I don’t want to come between you and your daughter,” Emma said.

  “You’re not going to come between us.”

  “I know what it’s like to grow up without a father,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt what you have.”

  “Emma, please stop. You’re not—“

  Mary had escaped Peter’s clutches and was sitting back down. She held a full pint of stout, her own. “Peter’s coming with the rest.”

  As the night progressed Emma’s mother filled everyone in on the fishing village nearby. By the end of the night she had even started to cozy up to a bachelor in his fifties. He had a well-kept beard, salt and pepper hair, a cravat, and hat like Indiana Jones. He spent a good half an hour throwing Mary around the room as they danced.

  Emma knew the dancing was a good thing. It meant her mother had sweated out some of the many pints she had been downing. She’d be insufferable in the morning, never mind sleeping in the same bed with her. She tried not to think of the snoring.

  The pub would be open until the early hours of the morning. It seemed everyone was planning to celebrate learning some bookkeeping by keeping the pub busy long past the legally appointed closing hour. Even the local police sergeant, Garda Hennessy was knocking back the pints.

  Daniel was getting tired though, and Emma didn’t blame him. He was the only one not drinking, even Stan had managed to sup on a few spilled pints, and she imagined Daniel had drank enough Coca Cola and orange juices to induce diabetes. As midnight came around he said he’d drive them back. It was a suggestion but everyone knew he wanted to leave, so they grabbed their coats and made their way to his car.

  “I’ll have to come back down here,” Mary said she sat into the front seat of Daniel’s jeep. “That Eamonn fella is a fine dancer.” She was sweating.

  Peter leaned into Emma as they sat into the back seat. “Gay,” he whispered into her ear as he pointed at Mary.

  “Eamonn?” Emma mouthed. Both Patrick and Peter nodded.

  Mary’s head was dropping as they arrived at back Patrick’s cottage. “Are you going to bed, Mam?” Emma asked.

  “I’ll sleep well, too,” she said.

  “You’re snoring will kill me,” Emma said.

  “I’m sure there’s other beds your welcome in,” she said before turning and marching towards Emma’s cottage.

  Patrick had his arm around Emma’s shoulders and squeezed her when her mother mentioned the beds. “She’s right, you know,” he said. “Come on, I’ll make you a tea and we should talk.”

  Patrick flicked on the light in his kitchen and set the kettle to boil. He pulled out tea and some mugs, “Biscuits?” he asked.

  “No thanks,” Emma said. “I gorged myself on sandwiches and crisps.”

  “We’ll have a proper dinner tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll defrost the lamb Daniel gave me. Your mother will eat it will she?”

  “She’ll eat anything, and have second helpings.”

  “I should have guessed that, she really goes for life doesn’t she?”

  “She’s making up for all the time she spent mothering me,” Emma said.

  “I’m sure she loved every minute raising you.”

  “You should know,” Emma said. “You’re a father.

  Patrick picked up the two mugs of tea and carried them towards the hallway. “Come on, we’ll sit outside and I’ll tell you everything.”

  ***

  Emma sat on the big double seat and wrapped her hands around her mug. Patrick sat in next to her after he pushe
d the switch on the big patio heater. Emma felt the instant warmth bathe down on her face, the glowing red of the heater starting to attract moths.

  “You have a daughter,” Emma said. She sipped the tea, her favourite; the lush, red berry fruit mix.

  “I have a daughter,” Patrick said. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” Emma asked. She could feel her stomach begin to turn, was he about to play games with her. She never expected it but he had started the truth with her by equivocating.

  “I’m not Maia’s parent and I’m not her guardian.”

  “But you’re her father.”

  “I love her like a daughter, and I’d do anything in the world for her but I’m not her parent.”

  “Then what are you?” Emma asked.

  “When I was in London I fell in love with her mother. She was working with one of the major firms who outsourced work to us. She had a little girl, three years old, she didn’t know who the father was and she didn’t want to know.”

  “You loved her?” Emma asked.

  “At the time I thought I did,” Patrick said. “I cared for her, and soon I cared for Maia too. She was adorable, so kind and sweet, everything you could ask for. And I wanted to be with her mother, and so I knew I would care for Maia too.”

  “You two married,” Emma said.

  “Eighteen months after we met,” Patrick said. “It was a mistake. Things weren’t perfect but I wanted to provide some stability.”

  “It didn’t work out.”

  “No. She had an affair, probably more than one. But there was at least one I knew about,” he said. Emma held onto his arm, Patrick looked tired recounting this to her.

  “She slept with my partner. She said she loved him and wanted a divorce.”

  “That didn’t work out either?”

  “It lasted three months after we finished up. I think she just liked the romance of new relationships.”

  “And that’s why you left London?”

  “No,” he said. “I never felt at home there. I was good at what we did but I never felt like it was honest work. I thought the industry was so fake. There’s good people in it but there’s a lot of things that are unpleasant about it.”

  “So you came here, to Ballyhane.”

  “The divorce was easy, uncontested. She thought she’d be going to live with Harold, and he’d support her. He would have too, men liked her and wanted to be with her. She just couldn’t settle.”

  “That can’t be good for Maia.”

  “It’s not, and it kills me. She’s never had that stability she needs. Her mother cares for her, and really does love her, but she has to get used to two new boyfriends a year.”

  Emma could feel her stomach settle but something else was getting to her. She realised how much Patrick loved Maia, she wasn’t his daughter but that made no difference to him. Emma had worried for her; that somehow she would come between Patrick and his little girl. She now knew that was impossible. She knew from the passion in his voice he would do anything for her, father or not.

  “You care for her, I know that.”

  “I do. I love her. I can’t compare my love for her to anything else. I care for you Emma but with Maia it’s different,” he said. “You’re a grown woman, you’re strong, you know who you are, you know what you want. I want to protect you but I know I don’t have to.”

  “I’ve been unsure of those things those past few weeks.”

  “I know, I could see that,” he said. “I wanted to say it to you but I knew you needed time.”

  Emma could feel tears forming in her eyes. His voice was so severe, but kind and firm, and sure. Sure of his love, for Maia and for her.

  “You’re a good man,” Emma said.

  “I want to be good for her,” he said. “And for you.”

  “You don’t need us for that,” Emma said. “You’re naturally good.”

  “But I want you,” Patrick said. “I want to be with you.”

  Patrick brought his fingertips to Emma’s chin and tilted her face towards his. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.

  Emma put her mug on the table, and stood. She took Patrick’s hand in her own and reached up to unbutton the top of her blouse.

  “I’ll stay with you,” she said. He stood and Emma led him inside the house, grasping his hand.

  ***

  Emma felt a dampness on her stomach and decided to open her eyes. The sun was beating down on her and she saw the clean white sheets scattered around her body. There was a Stan-head resting on her belly. Smiling she looked over at Patrick and remembered their night before. She knew she should be tired but she was energised by the sunlight, and the clear and crisp breeze coming through the window, and her memories of the night before.

  She stood, naked and walked to Patrick’s closet. She looked inside, she didn’t think he’d mind the invasion after what they’d done that night. Hanging up was four more of the white robes he had given her after her bath. She took one down and wrapped it around her, lifting the fabric to her nose and inhaling deeply the woody smell that imbued the robes from their time in Patrick’s bedroom.

  “I’ll let you out,” she whispered to Stan as she took one more glance at the peaceful sleeping man in what was now her bed.

  She could feel the transition on her feet as she went from the warm wood floor to the cool stone tiles, her skin tingled and it made her feel alive. Her feet padded against the ground as she walked to the kitchen door and let an eager Stan out.

  “Good night?” Her mother asked from behind her. Emma hadn’t noticed her

  Emma turned and smiled.

  “The best,” she said. It really was, she felt the satisfaction with every muscle in her body as she yawned a morning yawn and stretched herself awake.

  “I told you you needed more fun in your life.”

  “It’s more than fun,” she said. Emma flipped on the kettle to make herself some breakfast tea. “Let me fill you in,” she said to her mother.

  ***

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Patrick asked.

  “Is Maia ready for this?” Emma asked. “I don’t want her upset.”

  “She’s been demanding to see you for weeks.”

  He clicked the pad on his laptop and she heard the little bit of static from the microphone on the webcam at the other end of the connection.

  “Hi Patrick!”

  “How’s my girl?” He said.

  “Mom gave out to me, I got grass stains on my white jeans.”

  “That’s what jeans are for,” Patrick said as he held up his knee to show Maia his own damaged denims. “So you don’t have green stained skin.”

  “Mom says they won’t clean out.”

  “Then you can wear them when you play in the grass again, we’ll get you more when you come to visit.”

  “Only two weeks now,” she said. “I’m so excited. Is pony-camp booked?”

  “You mean are they ready for your devilment?”

  “Am I going to meet her when I’m over?” Maia asked. A change of subject.

  “Do you want to meet her now?” Patrick said.

  “What? Now? Yes!”

  Patrick beckoned to Emma to sit next to him. He pushed up on the couch and made some room for her. As she sat he put his arm around her.

  “Maia, this is my new friend, Emma.”

  “Hi Maia,” Emma said.

  Epilogue

  “Come on, Maia” Patrick called. “We have to get going to Daniel’s”

  “I’m ready,” Maia said.

  Emma looked at Maia. She grew so much in the few months that passed when they were apart. She was now a young woman, almost a teen. She had forgotten her bras when she travelled to Ballyhane. They were so new to her they just weren’t on her mind when she packed. Emma remembered how awkward it was for her as a young woman, and she hoped she did better when she had brought Maia shopping.

  The woman in the store thought Emma was her mother. And Maia didn’t correc
t her. She called her Emma, and she was ‘Patrick’s wife,’ but now Patrick was Dad, so that meant Emma was step-mom? Emma didn’t care to figure it all out. All she knew was that Maia trusted her, and Emma would walk through fire for her. Just like Patrick.

  “What’s the party for anyway?” Maia asked.

  “You know how Daniel and Peter are married?” Patrick said.

  “Well, yeah,” Maia looked at him like it was the stupidest statement on earth.

  “Up until now they haven’t really been married, they were ‘civil partners.’”

  “But they call each other their husband?” Maia said.

  “They love each other like husbands,” Patrick said. “Just like I loved you like a daughter, but you weren’t legally my daughter until the adoption papers went through.”

  “You were always my Dad,” Maia said.

  “Just like Peter and Daniel were always each other’s husband,” Emma said. “But the law didn’t agree.”

  “The law can be so stupid,” Maia said.

  Patrick laughed at the astute observation of a wizened twelve year old. “The law is the law, and sometimes it’s stupid,” Patrick said.

  “There was a vote in Ireland a few months ago,” Emma said. “And it made it legal for Peter to marry Daniel.”

  “But you said they were married.”

  “They were sort of married, and they loved each other, but it wasn’t the exact same. The law said they were different to me and your Dad,” Emma said.

  “That’s not fair,” Maia looked indignant.

  “No, it’s not fair. But the law changed yesterday and Peter and Daniel are fully married now.”

  “So this is a wedding?” Maia asked.

  “Kind of,” Emma said.

  “I should brush my hair again.” Maia said seriously, running off to her room.

  “Is the car packed?” Emma asked.

  “I’m just loading everything now.”

  As Patrick walked out to the car, arms full of bags Emma made her way to the corner of the living room. She hated to wake him, she knew he’d make a racket but it was Peter and Daniel’s big day, and none of them were allowed to miss it.

  Emma gently put her arms around little Michael and pulled him close to her breast. He stayed asleep. Maia thundered out of her room but slowed to a crawl when she saw Emma with the baby. She tiptoed over and rubbed his little hand.