Tears are swimming in my eyes and I offer him a sad smile. “You need to tell him that. He’s a very lost and lonely man. He needs his father more than anything right now.”
I am so tempted to tell him about his diagnosis but I know I’m not supposed to and it would be wrong. Padraig has to tell him, if he’s going to at all. It might even be best to keep it from him, give his father one less thing to worry about.
“How can he be lonely when he has a girl like you?” he asks.
“You can be lonely even with the people you love.” Don’t I know it.
He just nods and the moment we get near the cottage, he gestures weakly to the falconry mews. “Padraig said you’ve taken an interest. Said ye wanted me to teach ye.”
“Only if you have the strength.”
“Bah, I’ll make the strength if it’s for the birds. I miss them ye know. The hawk, Clyde, he’s a real wanker sometimes but he’s a brilliant sight when he flies. I don’t know what will happen to him when I’m gone. Nan can’t live forever. What happens then?”
“I’ll make sure we take care of them. Which is why there’s no better time for me to learn.”
He reaches over and pats my cheek. “Yer a real angel, aren’t ye? I must say, it gives a tired, cranky old man like me some peace to know that you’ll be joining the family. We need strong women like yerself.”
He disappears inside and closes the door.
Once again, I’m torn up inside, my gut feeling like shredded paper.
I almost didn’t want his father to like me. I didn’t want him to have any emotional attachment to me and I certainly didn’t want any attachment to him.
Seems it’s too late for that now.
17
Padraig
“Padraig?”
Valerie’s soft, sweet voice infiltrates my dreams, the one thing these days that’s guaranteed to open my eyes. She makes me want to face the world when all I really want to do is crawl into my darkness and never come out.
I open my eyes and see her sitting on the side of the bed, her bed. It takes me a moment to recognize that. Fucking hell, I was too tired to even go down the stairs and have a nap in my own bedroom.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, leaning in and gently brushing her fingers across my forehead. She feels like an angel.
My mouth is parched and I have trouble swallowing. “Fine. I think I need some water.”
“Stay there,” she says, going into her en suite and bringing out a glass of water. I sit up, carefully, my head feeling heavy, and take the glass from her, nodding my thanks. “It’s the medications,” she says as I drink. “They give you dry mouth.”
She’s been reading up on them, reading up on everything related to MS ever since we got back from the doctor. So far, dry mouth is the only thing that the medications seem to give me. The anti-depressants, which isn’t only for my mood but is supposed to help a range of symptoms, won’t kick in for a few weeks and the other pills only seem to work minimally when I have pain.
It’s frustrating, but to say that is an understatement.
Even in the last few days, my fatigue has increased ten-fold. My balance issues only happen sporadically and I have yet to fall over again like I did with Hooter and my leg spasms at night have calmed a bit. But this weakness, this tiredness, it hits me like we’re in a boxing match, wears me out until I’m down for the count. You can only fight it for so long.
I think my nan knows something is wrong. She’s noticed me napping and commented several times on how tired I look and that perhaps I should take Valerie to the Mediterranean for some sun, knowing I’m not going anywhere now, not with my dad like he is.
But I don’t want to tell her yet. I will. I’ll have no choice. I just hope that until my dad goes, that I can keep up appearances.
And that’s all I’ve been doing, isn’t it? Just keeping up appearances. Pretending that Valerie is my fiancé. Trying to be a good son even though I’m anything but.
I stare at the glass of water in my hands for a moment, almost willing my hand to shake, daring it. But it remains steady. I drink the rest of it down and look at Val.
“I guess my plan of sleeping through the engagement party didn’t work?” I ask.
She laughs softly. “No. And guess what? There is no party.”
“What?”
“Well, there is but we’re the only guests. They didn’t invite anyone. They just wanted to have a fancy dinner with us to celebrate. What a relief, huh?”
“Fuck yeah it’s a relief.” Instead of having to make it through forced conversation with strangers and townsfolk, I just have to deal with my family like I’ve been doing every day.
“But,” she says, tapping her fingers along my arm. “Your grandmother wants us to look nice.”
“Like a suit, that kind of look nice? Because I don’t have one and I don’t want to borrow one from the Major.”
The corner of her mouth curls into a smile and I know she’s picturing me dressed as the Major. “I’m sure a dress shirt and nice pants will do fine. Now, come on. Get up.”
She tries to pull me out of bed but I pull back and grab her wrists until I’m bringing her on top of me. She giggles, her hair spilling down into my face and tickling my nose.
I know she thinks I’m going to put the moves on her as I often do, but the truth is I’m too tired to even think about sex right now. The thought scares me a little but I’m also too tired to be scared by it. I just want to hold her, just want to look at her.
I put my hands at the side of her face, pushing back her hair so I can see her eyes clearly. “There ye are, darlin’.”
“Here I am,” she says, smiling sweetly at me.
Something inside my chest drops, like it’s pulled by a weight in my gut and for a moment I’m free-falling. A terrifying, intoxicating, gorgeous feeling that spreads throughout me. It makes tears burn behind my eyes, threatening to undo me.
I take in a trembling breath, feeling everything all at once and it’s so much but I smile and say, “I should go get dressed then.”
She runs her thumb under my eye, even though I haven’t shed a tear, and kisses the top of my nose before she climbs off of me.
I get up, slowly, carefully and make my way down the stairs to my room to change while she does the same in hers, bracing myself on the wall as I go.
Nan is standing at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in her Sunday best, plus a set of pearls I’ve never seen her wear before. Her white hair is combed back and she’s even wearing lipstick.
“Nan,” I say to her, straightening up and trying to seem normal as I walk down the remaining steps. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen ye look so lovely.”
“Wish I could say the same to you,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong with ye?”
“Me? Oh, just knackered. The winter here is brutal.”
“That’s why I say ye need to take Valerie dear somewhere south. She’s pale as a ghost ye know, and yer looking worse every day.”
“Well thank ye for that very kind remark,” I tell her, heading to my room. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try and make myself look pretty for my engagement party.”
“How about ye try and make yourself look pretty for your nana,” she says before walking down the hall to the dining room, grumbling as she goes. “You can start by getting rid of those bloody tattoos.”
I look down at myself. She can’t even see my tattoos.
I wash my face, fix my hair just so, then slip on an eggplant-colored dress shirt and black pants and, well, hot pink slippers because Nan won’t let you wear shoes in the house, and then join everyone in the dining room.
It looks like quite the feast. With the elegant table settings and polished silverware and fine china, and everyone sitting around the table in their nicest clothes, it really does look like there’s a party going on. I see my Nan even let us drink the good wine, the kind she keeps hidden in a stone shed beside the mews.
/> “Fashionably late,” Major says as I walk over. “That saved a lot of lives in the war, ye know.”
I take my seat beside Valerie.
“Nice shoes,” she says through a laugh. Of course she looks gorgeous, dressed in a long-sleeved black dress that clings to her curves and shows off her fantastic tits without being too lewd.
Not that it stops the Major from ogling her from across the table. Luckily Val seems okay with it.
“Sorry I’m late,” I tell everyone, looking from my dad, who is wearing a blue dress shirt and seems to have more color in his skin, though maybe that’s the wine talking, to Val, Nan, the Major and Gail. Gail looks a bit on edge, sitting stiffly in her seat, wearing a red dress that still has the apron around it.
“Ach, it’s only yer party,” my father says, grumbling already. Thankfully there’s a bit of lightness in his voice, a tone that I haven’t heard in a long time. He sounds stronger too, which gives me relief.
He then looks at Valerie. “And of course yours too, dear.”
She smiles at him and he smiles back and for the second time tonight something inside me drops. This time it’s heavier, a mix of joy and pride and something I can’t place. Val and my dad are bonding. They like each other, might mean something to each other.
It makes me so happy I could burst right here in front of everyone.
It makes me want, need, all of this to stop being a lie.
“Well, Padraig,” Nan says, snapping my attention back to her. “Do ye want to say grace?”
“Yea,” I say and we all lower our heads, folding our hands in front of us.
Dear God, I think, please forgive me for what we have to do tonight. Please know that I’m doing this out of love, that I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want this to go right.
And what I really say is, “Dear Lord, we are thankful for this bounty of food tonight and for our loved ones at our side. I call upon ye to keep us safe and warm and happy and may our blessings outnumber the shamrocks that we grow. Amen.”
A quiet chorus of “Amen” goes around the table.
Now we eat.
And talk.
It’s hard to keep an Irish dinner table from talking.
Along with the good wine, there’s Shepherd’s pie as a side dish, which is my favorite when my Nan does it, and baked cod as the main. For desert we have Irish crème trifle and even more wine.
It’s about then that my dad clears his throat and taps the side of his wine glass with his fork.
We all look at him.
“Speech!” the Major cries out.
“Bloody hell, I’m not making a speech,” my dad says. “I just wanted to get yer attention. I have something here, Padraig, something that belongs to you and Valerie. Something that once belonged to me and yer mother. It brought us both so much happiness, all the way until the end. I hope it does the same for ye both.”
He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out the ring. It’s simple but elegant with a big diamond in the middle and as a child I remember so many people complimenting my mother on it whenever she wore it with her wedding band.
If I really were marrying Valerie, it’s the ring I would give her.
If I really were …
If I really were …
“Now come on over here, son, and get it, I’m not about to get up.”
I quickly get to my feet and go around the table to the head of it. My dad places it in my hand with only a quick glance at my face.
I grasp the ring in my palm, holding it tight, then I lean over and wrap my arms around my dad, giving him a hug.
“Aww,” Nan coos.
My dad remains stiff as a board, not hugging me back, but I don’t care. I know it says a lot from him to give me the ring and I just want him to know how much I appreciate it.
Even if it isn’t real …
Even if it isn’t real …
I let go of him, and he pats my arm.
“Yer welcome,” he says.
My throat feels thick and pinched and I look over to Valerie.
Her eyes are wide and shining.
I smile.
Come over to her side, moving my chair out of the way so that she can face me.
Drop to one knee.
My eyes latch onto hers and I’m trying to tell her that I mean everything I’m about to say, that this isn’t just for show, that I want and need her to be mine, for real, for now, for always.
She might not feel the same. She might leave me soon and go back home.
But what I’m about to do isn’t lip service and it isn’t in jest and it isn’t just a charade.
There is truth behind it.
There is my heart behind it, even if she might never know it.
I’m in love with her.
I know that with every damaged inch of my being.
I love her.
She is the pulse of my heart.
Perhaps this is the only way I can tell her.
I just hope she’s listening.
“Valerie,” I say, taking her hand in mine and holding out the ring. “A chuisle mo chroi. I love you more than you even know, more than any words can say. It sounds cliché but it’s true. I simply can’t express it the way I need to—that was something my mother was good at, but not me. But for now, ‘I love you’ will do. And I’m sorry this is happening like this, that I couldn’t give you a ring the first time around. But now, now I feel like this means something even more. To me, to you, to everyone at this table. You are the pulse of my heart and the thread of my existence and all I ever want is to go on loving you until my dying days.”
I slowly slip the ring on her finger and glance up at her. Her eyes are full of tears but they aren’t happy tears. She looks seriously upset.
Oh shite.
My hand starts to shake. I need to pass that off as nerves.
I hurriedly push the ring over her knuckle and lean into kiss her.
Her tears spill down over my lips.
“I can’t do this,” she says in a ragged whisper against my mouth.
I pull back and smile warily at everyone else, wondering if they heard her. Everyone seems happy, my nan is even dabbing a napkin at her eyes and passing it over to the Major. Only Gail seems unimpressed.
I look back at Valerie and she gets to her feet, fully crying now.
“Excuse me,” she says tearfully, running to the front door, throwing on a pair of Wellies and a coat and leaving the house.
I watch as the door slams shut, stunned, and then look back to everyone else.
“The poor dear is overwhelmed,” Nan says, pausing to honk her nose into the napkin. “There’s a lot of pressure when it comes to having someone else’s ring, ye know.”
“If she doesn’t want it, I want it back,” my dad says.
“Oh don’t worry,” Nan says, putting her hand on my dad’s. “She’s in love with the boy.”
“I know,” he says. “That’s what she told me.”
When did that happen?
I need to stop napping so much.
No, I need to go and get Valerie.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell them and head on over to the door, pulling on my coat and boots. I leave just as I hear the Major say, “So are they married now?”
It’s a full moon and a clear night and like usual, it’s bloody cold. The start of the night’s frost is creeping over the front lawn and twinkling in the moonlight.
“Valerie!” I yell but I don’t see her down by the road.
I run around the side of the house, past the walled garden and the cottage, looking around the falconry mews. “Val!” I yell again.
And then I see someone. Moving shadows among the trees.
I run across the field, my eyes adjusting to the moonlight. “Val!”
As I get closer I see it’s her, walking fast into the forest, her gait uneven.
I follow, the bare branches scratching my face as I catch up to her quickly. I reach out and grab her arm.
/>
“What are ye doing?” I cry out, spinning her around to face me.
The moonlight catches her tears as they fall down her face. “I can’t do this anymore!” she yells.
“Okay, okay,” I say, my hands not letting go and sliding down to her wrists where I can hold her tighter. “It’s okay. Just don’t go running off into the woods.”
She’s sobbing, looking away and my heart is breaking at the pain and anguish on her face.
“Talk to me, please. Tell me what happened.”
“Tell you?” she cries out. “You were there. You just did it. You saw. You proposed to me!”
I try to swallow but can’t. “It was just for show,” I whisper and it pains me to say it.
“I know! I know it was just for show. I know it was a lie. I know you laid it on thick so that your dad and your nan would believe you. But think about what it’s like for me to hear that, as you slipped your dead mother’s ring on my finger!”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought you knew this was going to happen.”
“You were going to get the ring, you never said anything about proposing to me.”
“It felt like the right thing to do,” I try to explain. “I had the ring and I saw you and I just … I just had to do it.”
“They would have believed us otherwise. You didn’t need to take it that far.”
“Well it’s not as if we’re actually engaged.”
“Right!” she yells and then clamps her lips together, nodding and looking away. “Right. We’re not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She shakes her head and tries to turn away from me but I won’t let go. “Why are you crying? Why are you crying, Valerie?”
Her chin starts to tremble and she closes her eyes, tears spilling down but she doesn’t say anything. She lets out a soft whimper.
Something inside me starts to soar, like when I opened that owl’s cage on a night not dissimilar to this one, and watched it take flight over the trees. Flying to freedom, in the night where it belonged.
I place my hand at her cheek, feel her cold skin. “Look at me.”
She shakes her head.
“Look at me, please,” I tell her, trying to turn her face toward me.
My Life in Shambles: A Novel Page 20