“You sure?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face, yawning. “Is there enough there for me?”
“Of course.” Aislinn smiled at him, her sexy, sleepy husband. “It'll be nice to have breakfast together.”
Liam shuffled over to her and kissed her on the cheek before sitting down at the table.
“Deenie push you out of bed?” Aislinn asked with an amused smile.
“No. I was having trouble sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you up.”
“You best nap today so you're not dead on your feet tonight,” she advised.
“Yeah, I know.” He looked at the coffee machine longingly. “How long is that going to take? God, that thing is ancient.”
“You sound like Nora. It works fine. And besides, age has nothing to do with how fast it brews. Be patient.” She threw a pat of butter into the pan, scrambling the eggs. “Why couldn't you sleep?”
Liam was silent.
Aislinn turned to him worriedly. “Liam? What's going on? Is everything all right back in America?”
“Oh yeah, everything's great back in America,” he said grimly. There was a long pause. “Quinn called last night. It's safe for me to go home.”
Aislinn felt her heart jerk to a halt. She knew this day would come. She just never thought it would come so soon. No, that was a lie. She had hoped it would never come.
She turned back to the stove, not knowing what to say. Behind her, she heard Liam get up and fetch two coffee mugs from the cabinet. Don't throw up, she told herself. She looked at the wooden spoon in her hand pushing the eggs around the pan: it was shaking. She made herself control it.
Liam appeared at her side, putting a cup of coffee down next to her on the counter. Thank you, Aislinn said quietly.
“Obviously we need to figure this out.”
“Yes,” she managed, not looking at him.
“Do you want to talk about it now, or wait till later?”
“I don't see any point in waiting.” She slid the eggs onto their respective plates, then walked over to fetch the toast.
She could feel Liam's eyes on her back. “Why won't you look at me?”
"Because I need to keep a level head. I need to keep things simple in my mind: Serve eggs. Get toast. If I don't, my head is going to explode.
“I feel the same way, believe me.”
“Come. Sit down. Have breakfast.”
Liam joined her at the table. “Talk to me,” he begged softly.
She forced her eyes to his. “No, you talk to me. Tell me what Quinn said.”
Liam looked pained as he took a long sip of coffee. “The guy who wanted me killed died in prison. He's got no heirs. His crew is scattered. Quinn got word that I'm out of danger. End of story.”
“Except it's not.”
“No.”
The smell of the eggs was making her sick. She forced herself to take a mouthful, trying not to gag as she forced the food down. She put down her fork.
“I take it you want to go home.”
Liam looked pained. “Of course I do. But - us.”
“We're idiots. We probably shouldn't have gotten married,” Aislinn said dismissively. “Big mistake.”
Liam gripped her hand. “Don't shut down on me now, Aislinn. Please.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Talk to me,” he begged again.
Aislinn closed her eyes, trying to put her jumbled thoughts into a coherent order. “I love you. Part of me is happy you're now free to see your family. But you married an Irishwoman who owns a sheep farm in Ireland.”
“Maybe there's a way to compromise.”
Aislinn opened her eyes. “And what would that be?”
Liam hesitated. “You lease your farm to Alec and Jake. We move to America, and I go back to work at my family's bar -”
“You know I've no desire to ever live in a city,” Aislinn cut in.
“You didn't let me finish. We go to New York,” Liam continued, “and we get a farm outside the city. You run the farm, and we see each other on weekends.”
Aislinn stared at him. “You're joking me. I just sold some of my land so I can keep this farm. I love this farm. You know I've no desire to live or work anywhere else. That's a mad idea.”
“Idea number two: we have the ultimate long-distance marriage.”
“What? You move back there, and I stay here?” Aislinn asked incredulously. “We might as well divorce, then. How about this: we keep living the life we've set up here, except now, we're free to go see your family whenever we please.”
Liam looked miserable. “And what am I supposed to do? Work for Jack the rest of my life?”
“What's wrong with that?”
“It's pathetic.”
“Oh, but working for your father isn't,” Aislinn retorted.
“It's a family business. That's different,” Liam countered heatedly.
“You never said that was important to you.”
“I thought it was obvious!”
“And I thought it was obvious I wanted to live in Ballycraig forever!”
Liam cradled his head in hands. “I guess it was,” he said miserably. “I don't know.”
“You do know. You just didn't want to think about it.”
Liam lifted his head, glaring at her. “And you just didn't want to think about how I'd get the green light to go home one day.”
Aislinn swallowed, trying to get hold of her temper so things didn't escalate. “We're both at fault here,” she pointed out calmly. “This issue has always been the pink elephant in the room, and we chose to pretend it wasn't there. But it is. We should have dealt with it ages ago.”
“I know.” Liam grimaced. “See, part of the problem for me is Ballycraig itself.”
“What's wrong with Ballycraig?”
“There's nothing to do here, honey.”
“What is it you want to do that you haven't been able to?”
“Go to the movies.”
Aislinn snorted derisively. “There are cinemas in both Moneygall and Crosshaven. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you've lived here almost a year and, as far as I know, you've never gone into either town even once to go see a movie.” I didn't have a car.
“Oh, please, give over. I've got a truck. If going to the movies was crucial to your sanity, we could have gone any time. Don't deny it.”
“You're right,” he muttered.
“We can go to the damn movies any time you want,” Aislinn continued as anger and desperation began creeping up on her. “You want a satellite dish? We'll get a satellite dish. That'll at least be something.” She chugged her coffee and put her cup down on the table with a resounding thud.
“You're getting pissed.”
“I am. but more at myself than you, for ignoring the obvious.”
Neither said anything for a long time. Finally, Aislinn rose. “I should get to work.”
“Let me ask you something,” Liam said abruptly. “If you had a choice between me and the farm, which would you choose?”
Anger won. “Are you giving me an ultimatum, Liam O'Brien?”
“Of course not. It's just a hypothetical.”
“Well, here's a hypothetical for you: if you had a choice between me or going home to New York, which would you choose? Chew on that.”
She walked out, calling for Deenie from the bottom of the stairs. Deenie came trotting down, and together they walked back through the kitchen into the mudroom. The sentence, “It'll all work out” didn't exist anymore in her vocabulary. It never should have. She was out of words for now, so she left him sitting there, staring out the kitchen window into the morning darkness, brooding and silent.
*****
Liam went into town early. Were it a normal day, he would have awakened somewhere around midmorning, taken a run, enjoyed lunch with Aislinn and Alec, and then gone into town to help Jack sort things out at the pub before they opened. Today, however, he finished his breakfast, showered, and headed directl
y into Ballycraig.
Shit, what a way to start the morning. Yet on a certain level, he was glad it was out there on the table, even if their discussion did take place at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. As he'd expected, the news rocked her, the same way it had rocked him the night before. Despite the ratcheting tension, the longer they talked about it, the more he saw that Aislinn was right: they were both at fault. They should have discussed this earlier. But he couldn't help wonder: would it have made a difference? They loved each other. Would they not have gotten married if they'd acknowledged that one day, a gut-wrenching decision would have to be made, one that could result in mutual heartache? Or would they have given themselves over to their feelings anyway, trying to enjoy whatever time they had together, whether it was months or years?
Stupid as it was, he was smarting over her comment about the movies. He hadn't gone once since he'd moved to Ireland. Not once. As if he went all the time when he lived in Manhattan! If he was honest with himself, his days here weren't that different from his routine at home: late nights at the bar, sleeping in, working out ... the only difference was, in his downtime he often spent time with his family.
The Oak was dark as he unlocked the door and slipped inside. He turned on the lights, slowly taking in the pub, thinking about how every night, it was packed with friendly, familiar faces. He enjoyed working here. It was a lot like home, with one major difference: it wasn't home.
Remembering he still had some coffee in the fridge in his old apartment, he crept upstairs. It was close to six now. He thought he was being quiet, but apparently he wasn't. There was a knock at the door, and then Jack walked in wearing a tatty old flannel robe that he couldn't close fully because of his belly.
“Jesus God, do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Sorry,” Liam mumbled.
Jack rubbed his eyes. “She throw you out?” he asked, looking amused.
“No, but she might by the end of the day.”
“Ah, I detect a note of misery in my young friend's voice.” He leaned against the kitchen counter. “Talk to Jack, boyo - after he gets some coffee down his gullet.”
They made small talk until the coffee was done, Jack bitching and moaning about how much Bettina loved their holiday in Torremolinos, while he'd hated it. “Filled with Brits,” he said sourly. “And Spaniards.” She'd kept dropping hints to him about retiring there, saying that she was fed up with the Irish damp and the way it was seeping into her bones. “I don't know what the hell she's on about, said Jack. ”There's no damp here.
“It does rain a lot,” Liam observed.
“Oh, and I suppose it never rains in Spain?” Jack challenged. “She's a pain in my neck, that one. It's a mystery to me why we ever got married.”
“Love?” Liam offered tentatively, an image of Aislinn on their wedding day stealing into his mind.
“I suppose.” Jack sighed. “She was gorgeous when she was young.” A look of tenderness overtook him. “I still think she's gorgeous now, truth be told. I don't see the wrinkles she says she has, nor the fat arse she's always on about. A piece of wisdom, by the way: if Aislinn ever asks you if she looks fat, always say no, even if she has an arse the size of Croagh Patrick. That's the only right answer to the question if you value your life, especially your goolies.”
Liam laughed. “I'll remember that.” He poured their coffee, and together they sat down at his small kitchen table.
“What's on your mind?” asked Jack, cupping his hands around the mug.
“I heard from my brother Quinn last night. Apparently, it's safe for me to go home.”
Jack looked surprised. “Already?”
“What do you mean, 'Already'? I've been here almost a year.”
“That's not too much time.”
Liam frowned at him. “Says who? It was enough time for me to get married, wasn't it?”
“True, it was.” Jack took a sip of coffee and made a face. “This is swill.”
“It's all I've got.”
“No wonder you're always cranky when you first come in to work, if this what your belly is filled with. It's shite.”
Liam huffed with frustration. “Can we get off the topic of coffee?”
“Sure, sure.” Jack pushed his cup away. “So let me guess: you told the missus, and she said go chase yourself, that she's not leaving her farm to move to New York.”
“Pretty much. I mean, I tried to offer up some compromises.”
“Such as?”
“We go back to New York, and she has a sheep farm outside the city, and I work at my parents' bar on the weekends and -”
Jack waved a hand in the air. “Crap idea, since she just got Nora to sign the farm over to her. Next.”
“Long-distance marriage.”
“Otherwise known as divorce.”
“That's what she said.”
Jack looked mystified. “Look, you two knew this was going to happen one day.”
“I know. But we've avoided talking about it,” Liam said miserably.
“You truly do have Irish blood in your veins.”
“Help me out here, will you?”
Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Question one: this means you can go home to New York to visit whenever you please, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Question two: do you love your wife?”
“That's pretty obvious, isn't it?”
“How much?”
“More than my life,” said Liam, trying not to get choked up.
“Right, here's what I think. You love your wife more than anything. You've built a new life here, one that now allows you to see your family at will.”
“But I want to go home,” Liam said softly.
“Do you? Really? Or do you think you should want to go home after being away so long?”
Liam looked down at the table
“You need to listen to your heart,” Jack declared
Liam sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. “My brother says to listen to my gut.”
"Gut, heart, same thing. It's the best advice there is.
“I know,” Liam said miserably. “I don't know what else to tell you.” Jack stood. “Well, I'm off back to bed.”
Liam looked at him incredulously. “How can you go back to bed once you're up?”
“It's called getting on in age, and trust me, it's not for sissies. I'll see you later.”
Liam nodded, rolling his coffee cup between his hands.
Listen to you'r gut. Listen to heart Liam knew it was the only thing to do, but he felt like his heart was telling him to do one thing one minute and something completely different the next. Suppose he chose wrong?
Straight Up
Chapter Forty
************************************************************************************************
“It does lily heart good to see you back behind that bar,” said the Mouth with a satisfied smile. The Mouth, one of the regulars at his parents' pub, wasn't the first person to express this sentiment when they walked into the Wild Hart to find Liam back at his old post. PJ. back in New York after a worldwide book tour, had said so, too, as had Mrs. Colgan (whose new parrot, Rudy II, was just as annoying as his predecessor). Even the Major, the man of few words, made a point of coming over to say he was pleased to see Liam.
Things had changed in the year he'd been away. The Wild Hart had become the unofficial hangout for the New York Blades, Manhattan's hometown hockey team, who were determined to bring the Stanley Cup to New York for a third time. There was a female bartender, Christie, who'd replaced him. Liam felt bad for her, since she'd been forced to work with his uncle Jimmy, a retired cop who lived to milk his back pain and loved to needle people. That Christie was a firefighter just made Uncle Jimmy's barbs all the more pointed.
And of course, things had changed in his family, too. Maggie and Brendan now had baby Charlie, whom Aislinn couldn't seem to resist picking up and cuddling. Sinead was talking about dating again. Q
uinn's blog had become very popular. Quinn's wife Natalie was managing an extremely prestigious French restaurant. Everyone was happy and healthy, including his parents who, though they were definitely looking older, had lost none of their spunk or backbreaking work ethic.
Liam smiled at Aislinn as she slipped behind the bar and gently tugged on his apron. “We've got to leave for home soon, you know.”
“I know. I just wanted to see if I can get this lot” - he gestured at the regulars - “to give me some decent tips. God knows they didn't before I left.”
“I didn't have the money, then,” PJ pointed out.
“Yeah, but you do now,” said Mary Colgan in a voice tinged with envy. “So don't be a skinflint.”
“It's always been my belief that money can complicate the delicate balance of friendship, said the Mouth, the bar's philosopher. As the great -”
“Please shut up,” Liam begged with a groan.
“Bet you don't miss that,” Christie ribbed.
“Believe it or not, I do.”
Christie looked at Aislinn. “I can't believe you're dragging him home! It's been so much fun having him here.”
“Dad said he's interviewing a replacement for Jimmy, don't worry,” Liam assured her.
“I hate to tell you, but he's been saying that for a year,” said Christie.
“I'll put a bug in his ear before I go.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully.
“Thank you for doing such a great job,” said Liam. squeezing her arm. He turned to Aislinn. “Shall we?”
*****
“Now. we're coming over at Christmas. Don't forget.”
Aislinn smiled indulgently as her mother-in-law reminded her of this for the third time in an hour. The whole family was standing in the small kitchen of Liam's parents' flat above the Wild Hart, all gathered round to say their good-byes before she and Liam flew back to Ireland.
She still got queasy when she thought back on how she'd been on pins and needles the whole day after she and Liam had had their “discussion.” What if he came home and said he wanted to go back to America, and she could take it or leave it? He'd come in after work that night to find her waiting up for him in bed, tense and wakeful, bordering on fearful. He'd stripped off his clothes, slid between the sheets, and, tenderly pushing a few stray wisps of hair off her face, had whispered, nJ love you. Our life is here."
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