Straight Up

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Straight Up Page 17

by Deirdre Martin


  “And what would that be?” Nora asked gently.

  “Maybe I'm one of those people not meant to be part of a pair. Some people aren't, Nora. Some are perfectly content being on their own, like Padraig. And me.”

  “I don't buy that for a minute.”

  “That's easy for you to say! You're happily married!”

  “Look,” Nora said carefully, taking her steaming dinner out of the microwave. “There's no denying that what Liam did to you was awful. But clearly he regrets it.”

  “Why are you defending him?” Aislinn cried.

  "I'm not. All I'm saying is, people make mistakes, and sometimes, if you truly love someone, you forgive them.'

  “Again: easy for you to say.”

  “Actually, it's not,” Nora murmured quietly. “Three years ago Donald had an affair with one of his coworkers.”

  Aislinn's jaw dropped. “And you forgave him? I would have kicked the bastard out on his arse!”

  “Believe me, that was my first impulse. I was devastated. But he genuinely seemed to regret it. We went to couples counseling. It took us a long time to rebuild things, but we did, and I'm glad I didn't throw seven years of marriage away because he'd made one mistake, no matter how awful.”

  Aislinn was silent, trying to wrap her head around this. “And you trust him?” she asked incredulously. "Alone in London without you? You trust him?'

  “I have to. Without trust, there's no point in having a relationship.”

  “Well, I bloody wouldn't trust him,” Aislinn sputtered. “And I'll certainly never trust that Yank again.”

  “I wouldn't expect you to, feeling the way you do right now. The wound is too fresh. But -”

  “Never,” Aislinn hissed. “I wish to God I didn't have to set eyes on his lying face ever again.”

  “That shouldn't be hard to do.”

  “Yes, it will, because I'm not going out of my way to avoid him. He's the outsider in this town, not me. I will not change my routine for fear of running into him. Let him squirm like the worm he is when I go into the Royal Oak. Let them all squirm. I'll not let him drive me into hiding up here on the farm.”

  “You're right.” Nora wrapped Aislinn in a hug. “I'm so sorry, love. But trust me: you will get over this, and eventually, you'll be ready to get back on the horse. Until then, there's no need for you to suffer alone. I'm here.” She touched Aislinn's cheek. “I hate the thought of you growing old here alone. I truly do.”

  “Well, I don't,” Aislinn said dismissively. “It suits me fine.” She patted Nora's arm. “Now eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

  *****

  As was his usual routine, Liam went over to his aunt and uncle's house for Sunday breakfast the next morning, though God knows he wanted to bail. His hangover was so bad it felt like someone was shooting a nail gun into his skull. He downed two paracetemol and then plodded the half mile to their house, eyes barely open. Coffee. He needed a big mug of coffee filled with a small mountain of sugar.

  As soon as he let himself in, he could tell his family already knew what happened. They were staring at him with worried expressions on their faces. He kissed his aunt, then gestured toward the kitchen. “Can I go grab some coffee?”

  “I'll grab it,” she said. “You go sit.”

  “Thanks. Five teaspoons of sugar.”

  “You got it,”

  Liam convened with his cousins and uncle at the dining room table. The sun was blazing through the windows, making the room supernaturally bright. Liam moaned. “Can I close the blinds?”

  “Headache that bad, eh?” His uncle patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Course we can draw them. I've been there meself.”

  Liam slid into the chair next to his newly devout cousin, Brian. “Let me guess: what happened last night was all the talk after church and as soon as you got home, you told the family.”

  “Yep,” said Brian, who was already helping himself to some sausages.

  Liam got defensive. “And the whole town thinks I'm an asshole, right?”

  “Actually, everyone is feeling guilty, especially since the Mc - Aislinn asked them how they'd feel if it was done to them,”

  “I told you it was a mean thing to do,” said Erin disdainfully.

  Aunt Bridget came out of the kitchen bearing not one but two mugs of coffee. “I thought you might need more than one,” she said. She wrapped her arms around Liam's neck from behind, giving him a loving hug. “We're so sorry about what happened between you and the McCaf - Aislinn,” she murmured sympathetically.

  “Don't feel sorry for him!” said Erin. She looked at Liam with dismay. “I hate to say this, but I've no sympathy for you. I know you love her, but I'm glad she gave you a good telling off and dumped you. You deserve it.”

  “You think I don't know that?” Liam replied miserably.

  Aunt Bridget looked sad. “I wonder if the poor girl will go all hard again.”

  “Wouldn't blame her if she did,” said Erin, glaring at Liam.

  Liam chugged down his first mug of coffee, avoiding his cousin's gaze. He knew it was psychological, but he felt marginally better. Coffee, the great American cure-all.

  “She really walloped you badly, huh?” Uncle Paul asked.

  “Put it this way: if words were punches, I'd be in intensive care right now.”

  Uncle Paul winced. “She doesn't hold back when she gets going, that one.”

  Brian looked at him curiously. “Does she love you?”

  Liam snorted. “Not anymore, obviously.”

  Uncle Paul speared a piece of sausage, pointing at Liam with the fork. “Give her time to cool down,” he advised. “Then go back to her on your knees and plead for another chance.”

  Erin frowned. “He's got to do more than that.”

  “What would I have to do?” Liam asked nervously.

  “Woo her. Prove to her that you want her so badly you'll do whatever it takes.”

  “In other words, wear her down,” Brian added unhelpfully. “If she loves you, she'll succumb eventually.”

  “How would you know?” Erin jeered. “You've only ever had two girlfriends in your life, the first when you were eleven.”

  “Shut up, Erin.”

  “I'm just saying. Don't go trying to give love advice when you don't know a damn thing.”

  Liam closed his eyes. The sharp tenor of their bickering felt like another nail being shot into his skull. He was beginning to wonder how he was going to make it through the day.

  “Erin's right,” mused Uncle Paul, proffering a plate of eggs to Liam, which made his stomach do nauseating flips. “Woo her relentlessly ... yes. It could work.”

  Liam waved the plate away. “And if it doesn't?”

  “Then you'll have learned a hard lesson,” Aunt Bridget said with a sigh of resignation.

  Wear her down. Liam mulled this over as he reached for his second sickeningly sweet cup of coffee. It had worked the first time, hadn't it? Perhaps coupling it with the right wooing and telling her he wasn't going to give up would, indeed, will her back? Yeah, right. If he even set foot on the farm, she'd probably blow his head off. What he needed were some allies.

  He looked around the table at his extended family. “Maybe you could help me.”

  “How?” his aunt Bridget asked eagerly.

  “Put in a good word for me if you see her. I don't know.”

  “Bit obvious, isn't it, your family singing your praises?” Erin pointed out.

  Liam s shoulders sank defeatedly. True.

  “Do what I told you,” she continued with irritation. “Woo her. Properly. Relentlessly.”

  “Hmm.”

  Liam didn't want to admit it, but part of his hesitation regarding this course of action was that he'd never had to woo anyone before. Egotistical as it sounded, until he met Aislinn, his good looks and ability to smooth talk had done all the work for him: all he had to do was express interest in a woman, and she was all over him.

  “Maybe y
ou should talk to her sister,” said Uncle Paul.

  “That's what Bettina said last night.”

  “What's the story with that Nora?” Aunt Bridget sniffed. “For ten years she could barely bring herself to come home, and now all of a sudden she's installed herself up at the farm like the Queen of bloody Sheba?”

  “I think she really wants to reconnect with Aislinn,” Liam explained. “She realized how important family is once their parents died.”

  “Never liked her,” Aunt Bridget continued. “Highfalutin.”

  Liam sprang to Nora's defense. “She's really nice. And she loves Aislinn.”

  “If you say so,” Aunt Bridget said dubiously.

  “Get her on your side first,” said Erin.

  “But like I said, give the McCaf - Aislinn some time to cool down a bit,” added Uncle Paul.

  Liam took a long slug of coffee. “How long?”

  “A few weeks?” said Uncle Paul, looking to Aunt Bridget for confirmation. “Isn't that how long it took you to stop being hotheaded when you gave me the heave-ho?”

  Erin's eyes popped. “You two split up once?” “About six months before we were married,” said Uncle Paul. “She was mad I didn't want to wear a tux for our wedding.”

  “What the hell did you want to wear?” Brian asked.

  “His lucky jacket,” Aunt Bridget said contemptuously. “A right rag it was, frayed bare with holes. I would have looked like I was marrying a tramp. But no, he was insistent. So I told him to take a hike.”

  “I gave her a few weeks to cool off, and then I came round and told her I'd wear the bloody tux.” He leaned in to Liam confidentially. “Pick and choose your battles, son. Some just aren't worth winning.”

  “Watch yourself,” Aunt Bridget warned him. She turned to Liam, patting his hand. “If you love that girl, then do what you have to do.”

  Straight Up

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ************************************************************************************************

  Three days after the “revenge of the McCafferty,” as everyone in town had taken to calling Liam and Aislinn's breakup at the Oak. Aislinn strolled into the pub. Shame flashed through Liam, discomfort following quickly on its heels as she calmly ordered her usual whiskey from Jack. Liam girded himself for her glare, but it never came. Instead, she looked through him like he wasn't even there, which was worse.

  He might not have been surprised to see her, but everyone else clearly was. There was a split second of abrupt silence when she entered before people went back to their conversations, looking somewhat sheepish. No one approached her. There was a distinct aura of coolness around her, an unmistakable vibe that the last thing she wanted to do was talk to any of them.

  Still, Old Jack did try. “Here you go, darlin',” he said, handing her drink.

  “Thank you,” Aislinn said politely.

  Jack cleared his throat nervously. “How's Padraig doing?”

  “Well.”

  “And Nora?”

  “Also well.”

  “Tell her I asked after her.”

  “I will.”

  Jack nodded, out of words. Liam glanced at the Holy Trinity, wondering if they would try to make things as normal as possible by teasing her. But even they were quiet. Aislinn noticed.

  “What's wrong, boys?”

  “Nothing,” Fergus mumbled, looking nervous.

  “I'm not going to bite you,” Aislinn said derisively.

  Teague came to life. “Maybe not us,” he said with relish, “but I wouldn't mind seeing you sink your teeth into the Yank and drawing some blood.”

  “He's not worth the effort.”

  Could you please stop talking about me as if I'm not even here? Liam thought, peeved. If he could, he'd take Teague outside after closing time and punch his lights out. The guy was a prick. He remembered his aunt's words to him a few months back: Still quick to anger. I see. Your mother used to talk about it all the time. Got you into a world of trouble during your teen years, as I recall. Well, he wasn't a teenager punching his way through life anymore. He'd keep his rage in check, even if it killed him.

  He's not worth the effort Ouch. Liam knew Aislinn wouldn't give him the time of the day, but he couldn't help himself: he had to say something. Maybe she didn't want to acknowledge his presence, but he needed to acknowledge hers.

  “Hey.” said Liam.

  Aislinn turned to him slowly. Liam wanted to cringe when he saw the contempt in her eyes. “Did I or did I not tell you I never wanted to speak to you again?”

  Liam caught Teague smirking into his beer and took a deep breath to stop himself from reaching across the bar and grabbing him by the throat. He hated this guy. Hated him.

  “I thought we could at least be civil to each other,” said Liam quietly.

  “Civility isn't my strong suit,” Aislinn shot back, “at least not with the likes of you. Leave me alone.”

  Liam faked a diffident shrug and turned his back to the bar, pretending to busy himself with straightening the bottles of booze along the back wall. Wear her down? Woo her? The woman could barely stand the sight of him.

  Even so, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he proved to be a coward of a different stripe, one who gave up the fight before he'd even begun. No one could turn their emotions on and off like a faucet; furious as she was at him, he knew that deep down, she still loved him. But whether he could get her to believe he truly loved her and was sorry for what he had done was another story.

  *****

  He waited until Wednesday, when Aislinn was at the farmers' market in Omeath, to go talk to Nora. The flock was grazing in the field across the road from the house, all of them halting to stare him down as he walked up the hill. He knew it was crazy, but he swore they knew what had happened. That made it easy to avoid making direct eye contact with any of them. Aislinn told him they interpreted this as threatening, unless they knew you well. Liam had a sudden vision of the flock amassing themselves into a woolly army and leaping over the low stone wall to attack him as payback for what he'd done to their mistress. Death by sheep. Fitting.

  Liam headed around the back of the house to go in through the mudroom, stopping short before he pulled the door open. He wasn't Aislinn's boyfriend anymore; he couldn't just stroll in as he pleased. He'd have to go around and knock on the front door as if he were any other visitor.

  He felt slightly furtive as he walked back around and rang the doorbell, sending Deenie into a paroxysm of barking on the other side of the door. He half hoped Nora wasn't home: odds were high she'd rip into him for what he'd done to her sister. He started preparing himself for the possibility she'd tell him to take a hike.

  “Deenie! Quiet!”

  Liam squared his shoulders as Nora opened the door. She looked surprised to see him, but not unpleasantly so. Deenie, recognizing him, calmed down immediately and began wagging her tail, lifting Liam's spirits just a tiny bit.

  Liam leaned against the doorframe, shoving his hands in the back pocket of his jeans, feeling somewhat sheepish. “Hey.”

  “She's not here,” Nora said coolly.

  “Actually, I'm here to talk to you.”

  “Ah.” Nora hesitated. and for a moment, Liam thought she was going to turn him away. But she opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  Liam followed Nora into the kitchen. “Coffee?” she offered. “I brought some good stuff over from London. Organic.”

  “No, thanks.” He pulled out a kitchen chair. “Okay if I sit?”

  “Of course.”

  He hadn't anticipated feeling this uncomfortable. Clearly the onus of conversation was on him, but he was pretty sure he'd look like a jerk if he started begging her for help right off the bat. He needed to ease into it

  “How was London?” he asked conversationally.

  “Fine,” said Nora. “I needed to do some research,”

  “What's the subject of your article again?”


  “Economic development in South Africa.”

  “Wow, that's -”

  “Boring?” Nora finished for him dryly. “I'm beginning to think so, too. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder what the hell I'm doing in academia at all.” She sighed. “Still I started it, so I'm going to finish it.”

  “The peace and quiet here must make it easy to write,” Liam offered.

  “It does. Plus I get to spend some time with Aislinn.”

  “Yeah, she had mentioned -”

  “Mentioned what?” Nora cut in.

  “You're big on interrupting, aren't you?”

  “Sorry. You were saying?”

  “Aislinn had mentioned you haven't been home much in the past few years,” Liam proceeded carefully. "I think she's enjoying you being here.

  “I wouldn't go that far,” said Nora with a curt laugh. “Believe me, I know my sister.”

  Liam paused. “How's she doing?” he murmured.

  “How do you think she's doing?” Nora shot back. “You've decimated her”

  Liam fought a flinch. “You must hate me.”

  “Hate's a very strong word,” said Nora. "Let's just say that if I could chop off your bollocks and put them in a meat grinder right now, I would.

  “Right,” Liam said grimly. Just thinking about it made his balls retract.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” asked Nora, frowning as the ancient coffeemaker spluttered to life. “We need a new one,” Liam heard her mutter under her breath.

  Liam kneaded the back of his neck. He was going to speak plainly, though for a split second, he wished he possessed his brother's eloquence with words. "I know you're going to laugh your ass off when I tell you this, but I love your sister.

  Nora looked dubious as she folded her arms across her chest. “Uh-huh.”

  “I know the bet was a shitty thing to do. I should have called it off the minute I started having feelings for your sister.”

  “But you didn't,” Nora pointed out coldly.

  “No, I didn't,” Liam admitted, feeling ashamed.

  “Why?”

  “Because I'm a macho asshole, not to mention delusional. I actually thought I'd be able to have my cake and eat it, too: you know, win the bet and keep on seeing Aislinn. I figured once everyone saw how happy we were, who'd be mean enough to tell her about the bet?”

 

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