“Hey babe,” said Liam, pouring out her usual whiskey.
“Hey yourself,” Aislinn said, still smiling at him. Liam leaned across the bar and kissed her: she made herself kiss him back.
And then she slapped him across the face as hard as she could.
Liam stared at her, stunned, as the pub immediately fell quiet.
“How dare you?” she hissed. “How dare you use me for your own amusement?”
Eyes locked on hers, Liam slowly slipped out from behind the bar.
“Don't you dare come near me,” she growled.
“Just hear me out,” Liam implored, moving toward her cautiously as if she were some sort of rabid animal who might lunge at him if he approached too quickly.
“Hear you out?” Aislinn echoed bitterly. “What's to hear? That you tricked me into falling in love with you for your own amusement?” Aislinn cocked her head quizzically. “Tell me: did you think it was funny to use me that way?”
“Aislinn -”
“Shut up. You don't get to say a word, do you understand? Not a word.”
Liam glanced away, unable to look at her.
“Who are you?” she continued. “I mean truly: who the hell are you? Only the worst kind of scum would do what you did to me. You do realize that, don't you?”
Liam looked down at the floor.
“It was a cruel, insensitive thing to do. But you did it anyway, and what for?” She gestured at the Holy Trinity. “Because you wanted to impress this pathetic pack of bastards into accepting you?” She turned her disgust on Old Jack. “Because this cheap gobshite doesn't pay you enough?” Jack's gaze darted away. “What's wrong, Jack? Can't bear to look me in the eye? Can't bear to hear the truth?”
She heard a few snickers coming from behind her and wheeled around furiously. “You lot think you're any better? You think I don't know you all knew about this? I'm not going to deny that I've spent the past year keeping to myself, or that it was wrong of me to reject the kindnesses you tried to show me after Connor broke my heart and my parents died. But did my behavior really merit this kind of cruelty? Was I so awful to you all that you felt I deserved this? How would you feel if someone did this to you? Chew on that for a few seconds, you heartless bastards.”
Guilty silence reigned. “You're pathetic, every last one of you,” she spat, trying to keep her voice level as tears threatened. “All I can hope is that one day, someone does something as awful to you as you've done to me, so you can see what it feels like. I don't know how you can live with yourselves.”
She whirled back to Liam, her blood pounding so loudly in her ears she could barely hear herself think, “As for you, Yank, I hope you don't have the balls to call yourself a man, because that's the last thing you are. No real man would ever, ever do what you did to me. Rot in hell.”
She stormed out of the pub, slamming the door behind her. Her body was taut as a bowstring, quivering with rage. She paused a moment to take a deep breath and collect herself before continuing on. After a few seconds, she realized she was stomping up the street like some kind of crazed soldier and deliberately tried to slow her pace, but it was no good. She was being propelled forward by an unstoppable wave of anger. She heard the pub door open behind her and curled her fists at her side. It had better not -
"Aislinn!
She quickened her pace, her anger ratcheting up a notch. Did the eejit expect her to stop and turn around? Did he think she'd even want to talk to him?
"Aislinn!
Liam raced to stand in front of her. Aislinn simply walked around him, looking through him as if he wasn't even there
He tried to stand before her again. “Aislinn, please.”
“Get out of my way before I shove you out of the way,” she threatened through clenched teeth. Liam fell into step beside her. “I wasn't lying when I said I loved you. I do. Yeah, things started out as a bet, but as soon as I started spending time with you, I knew you were the one for me.”
Aislinn ignored him.
“Did you hear -”
“Piss off. Liam. Please.”
“I wanted to call it off,” he insisted.
Aislinn laughed bitterly. “Oh, God, would you listen to him, trying to backpedal?” She shot him a venomous, sideways glance. “Don't you understand? The fact that you even made such a wager in the first place tells me you're not fit to lick my boots.”
“It was a mistake, Aislinn. A really, really stupid mistake.”
“Did you think I'd never find out about it?” she railed.“Did you think, even if you eventually told me about it yourself, that I'd forgive you for making a fool of me in front of the whole town? How much of a pushover do you think I am?” She pushed a tangle of her hair off her face roughly. “I want to know how much I owe you for the trip to Dublin.”
“Aislinn -”
“I don't want to be in debt to the likes of you for anything. Now leave me the hell alone. I mean it”
“I'll do anything you want if you just let me explain and give me another chance,” Liam pleaded. “Anything.”
“The only thing I want you to do is get out of my sight. D'you hear?”
“Aislinn, look at me. Please.”
She stopped dead, glaring at him. “Are you thick? How many times do I have to tell you?” she shouted. “I want you to leave me alone! I never want to speak with you again! Got it?”
“Got it,” Liam said quietly.
"Good. Now go back to your stupid, gutless friends and make fun of me, or pity me, or whatever it is you losers do for a laugh.
She left him standing there on the sidewalk, watching her walk away. She should have spit in his face; he deserved so much more than the slap she'd given him in the pub. She never thought she could hate anyone as much as she hated Liam O'Brien right now. God, please, let him get the green light to go back home soon. The idea of his being here for months, maybe even years, was torture.
She climbed up into the cab of her truck, gunned the engine, and headed for home.
*****
Liam wasn't sure how long he stood out on the sidewalk in a daze, watching Aislinn storm away. He knew he deserved the slap and everything she'd said to him. He'd made a choice to make the bet. He'd made a choice not to call it off. He'd made a choice to believe he could have his cake and eat it, too, stupid enough to think she would never find out about the wager. She was right: who was he?
He wished to hell he didn't have to go back inside and face everyone in the pub. The Oak was still silent when he'd run out after her, the air thick with shame. Aislinn was right: they were all complicit. But the thought offered no comfort at all. How could it? He was the main culprit, the scum who had messed with her affections when she was the most vulnerable she'd ever been in her life, and for what? To prove he was better than the three jack-asses who resented his presence in Ballycraig? To demonstrate how he'd always been able to charm the pants off any woman he'd ever wanted? What a fucking loser. Because of his ego, he'd lost the only woman he had ever loved.
He steeled himself and walked back into the pub. People were hunched over their drinks, looking remorseful, no one quite meeting his eye. He couldn't say he blamed them. He wouldn't want to look at himself, either, the despicable Yank who'd turned them all into objects of contempt.
Jack's eyes filled with pity as Liam slipped back behind the bar. “Well?” he asked tentatively.
“Well what?” Liam snapped. “She basically told me to go fuck myself.”
“I suspected as much,” said Jack. “Here.” He poured Liam a whiskey and pushed it toward him. Liam threw the shot back, and Jack poured him another one.
“I shouldn't have called you a coward when you wanted to call off the bet,” said Jack quietly. “I should have let it go.”
“No one here is to blame but me,” said Liam. “I was a coward: I should have had the guts to tell you I didn't care what you thought.” He threw the second shot down his throat.
“I told you she'd nail your balls
to the wall no matter what,” Teague crowed triumphantly.
“Fuck you.”
“Did you really think that once she found out, she'd be all right with it?” Teague sneered. “You're charming, but you're not that charming, Yank.”
“Enough!” Jack yelled. “I'm in no mood for fisticuffs, you hear? Which is where this is headed if I'm not mistaken.”
“I wonder how the hell she found out,” said Liam. He eyed the Trinity contemptuously. “One of you assholes told her, didn't you?”
“I feckin' didn't!” David protested.
“Nor did I!” said Fergus.
Liam turned his gaze to Teague.
“Don't look at me, mate,” Teague snorted. “I might be a wanker, but I'm not that big of a one.”
“Maybe no one told her,” Fergus offered. “Maybe she overheard someone talking about it. I don't think anyone in this town would be so cruel as to tell her.”
“No, but we were all cruel enough to keep our mouths shut,” Liam countered miserably. His fist crashed down on the bar. 'Tuck!"
Old Jack patted his shoulder. “That's it, Liam. You get it out.”
“What the hell am I going to do, Jack?” Liam asked plaintively. “She hates me. She'll never take me back.”
“True,” said Teague, looking pleased.
“I told you to shut your gob!” said Jack with a glare. He poured Liam another shot. Liam had every intention of getting shit faced: anything to numb the pain and self-loathing.
“Maybe after she cools down, she'll realize she loves you, too, and she'll forgive you,” said Jack.
“Yeah, and maybe Santa Claus is real,” Liam jeered. He downed his third shot. “Would you forgive me if you were her? I wouldn't.”
“Now, now, our Lord forgave those who nailed him to the cross,” Jack reflected. “I'm sure she could forgive you. You've just got to give her time to lick her wounds and all that.”
“I'm a moron,” Liam said to no one in particular.
“Would a song cheer you up'?” Jack offered.
Liam gave him a withering glance. “No thank you.”
“Just trying to help,” Jack muttered.
“I know,” Liam said miserably, pouring himself another shot. “I know Aislinn: she's not going to stop coming in here. She'll come in for her whiskey when she's in the mood, and she'll just sneer at me like the asshole I am. Stilt”
“Talk to Nora,” Jack's wife, Bettina, suggested. She'd been stacking glasses behind the bar, listening in on the conversation. “She might put in a good word for you.”
Liam rallied a bit. “That's not a bad idea. She seemed happy when Aislinn and I got together.”
“There you go. I'm sure she'd be willing to plead your case when the McCaf - when Aislinn is ready to hear it.” Bettina colored, turning away to fold napkins.
“I want you to keep paying me my regular wages,” Liam told Jack. 'Tuck winning the bet. I don't want the money now."
“I would,” said Teague.
“That's because you're a jackass,” said Fergus. He looked at Liam. 'If there's anything I can do to help you win her back - anything - you let me know."
“Me, too,” said David. “It's the least we can do.”
Teague said nothing.
Liam thanked them, but he knew it was a lost cause.
Straight Up
Chapter Twenty
************************************************************************************************
Aislinn drove home from the pub slower than usual, trying to appreciate the beautiful stars standing out in the inky sky, but it didn't work. The whole world had been stripped of its beauty, thanks to that New York arsehole.
God, the gall of him, asking her for another chance, as if she'd ever trust the likes of him again! Who the hell did he think he was? As for her fellow Ballycraigers, well, this time she had every right in the world to rebuff them if they came round trying to make amends. In some ways, their being in on the bet hurt even more than Liam's duplicity. She'd known these people all her life, or thought she had. Now she felt herself surrounded by strangers.
The light in Padraig's cottage was still on. Aislinn resisted the urge to check on him. She was in no mood for idle chat: plus. she was afraid that when she told him about the bet, he'd get all worked up and threaten to go into town and blacken Liam's eye, as if he were still a twenty-year-old with a mean left hook. It had happened when Connor had betrayed her: Padraig (and her father, too, come to think of it) had gone mental, threatening to break his bones if he dared ever show his face in Ballycraig again. She decided she'd let Padraig hear about what happened through the grapevine: she had enough on her plate right now without worrying about him fancying himself Barry McGuigan.
She'd forgotten to leave the light on in the mudroom, and so she entered a completely dark house, the perfect match for her mood. It felt asthough the house's silence was mocking her. Did you really think things would ever work out for you? it jeered. You're a loner, just like your da. Always have been. always will be. Just accept your damn fate and get on with it.
“Cut the self-pity,” she chided herself brusquely, slipping out of her boots and jacket. “It doesn't suit you.”
She went upstairs, stopping off in the loo to brush her teeth and wash her face. She studied her face in the mirror, remembering Liam telling her she was beautiful. She couldn't bear it. He hadn't meant a word of it. Not a word.
She padded into her room, not wanting to wake Deenie, who was fast asleep on her bed. The steady rhythm of the old dog's breathing was a comfort. She slipped into the oversized T-shirt she'd bought years ago at the Galway Festival and climbed into bed. When Connor had wrecked her life, she'd thought she'd never recover from the pain. But the pain she was in now, all-encompassing and pressing down on her like a boulder, felt ten times worse. She turned on her side and curled up in a fetal position, drawing her covers tightly around her. When she was little, she sometimes used to think, Nothing can upset me when I'm in the big bed, with its warmth and safety and promise of sleep. She wished she could still believe that.
*****
The next morning. Nora called Aislinn to let her know she was coming back from London. Aislinn's heart sank, not only because she was worried Nora's presence would grate on her nerves, but also because she'd have to tell Nora about what Liam had done to her, and she hated the thought of her sister pitying her. She didn't want Nora's pity or anyone else's. She just wanted to get on with her life.
Nora arrived at around eleven p.m. Aislinn waited up for her, even though she was bone-tired after a day of work and deworming the sheep, one of her least favorite things to do. Padraig's strength came in handy: he was good at holding them down and tipping their heads back at just the right angle so the fluid she had to squirt down their throats didn't spill on the ground or worse, get into their lungs.
“Aislinn?” Nora called out from the kitchen. Aislinn switched off the TV in the sitting room and went to join her sister.
“Here I am.” Aislinn gave her sister a kiss. “You're much later than I expected.”
Nora looked rueful as she put down her bags. “I wanted to squeeze in as much time with Donald as I could, though he'll probably be coming over in a couple of weeks for a long weekend." Jesus wept, thought Aislinn. Would you just admit you want to build a house here and get it over with?
Aislinn just nodded. “How did your research go?”
“Well, I think. We'll see.”
"You must be famished. There's some mashed potatoes and boiled ham in the fridge. I could zap it in the microwave if you'd like.
Nora yawned. “That would be lovely.” She sat down wearily at the table, watching Aislinn as she moved from the fridge to the microwave. “What's wrong?”
“What are you talking about?” How on earth could her sister tell anything was wrong?
“You seem tense. Is it because I'm back?”
“Don't be daft.”
“What, then?”
“I had a tough day, is all.”
Nora scrutinized her face. “You're lying. You look awful. You've been crying.”
It was true: she had been crying before Nora came in, which she hated. Tears made her feel weak.
“Just feeling blue,” Aislinn replied, working to sound blasé. “PMS. You know how it goes.”
Nora chuckled, shaking her head. “You've always been a terrible liar, Aislinn. Just like Dad. Everything shows on your face and in your body language. Did something happen between you and Liam?”
“We split up,” Aislinn said bitterly.
Nora looked shocked. “Already? What happened?”
“What happened is he's a lying bastard of the first degree. You told me to let my guard down and let him in. Well, I did, didn't I? And guess what? He put the boot in. Humiliated me.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, determined not to let loose the flood of tears threatening to have their way. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“Aislinn.” Nora's voice was gentle as she went to Aislinn's side. “Please tell me what happened. Maybe I can help.”
“You? The prodigal sister, returned home and thinking we'll be close instantly? I don't think so.”
Aislinn regretted the words the minute they slipped off her tongue. “I'm sorry,” she said in a quavering voice, holding back a sob. “I'm not thinking straight. I just want to lash out, and you're the only one here. I'm sorry.”
“Sshh, sshh.” Nora gathered her up in arms. “It's all right. People say and do things when they're in a right state, which you are. Talk to me.”
Aislinn burst into tears, holding Nora tight. 'it's too awful. God, I hate him! I hate them all!"
She proceeded to tell Nora about the bet through hiccupping sobs. Just retelling it made her feel humiliated all over again. Nora rocked her, wiping her tears away. Finally, Aislinn broke contact,
“I'm pathetic,” she said vehemently.
“You're not pathetic.”
“Never again,” Aislinn vowed, swiping her tears away. “I mean it. Twice now I've fallen for liars: do you realize that? Twice now I've been kicked in the teeth and turned into someone to be pitied. Obviously the universe is trying to tell me something.”
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