All Roads

by Peter Murphy

  When Deirdre returned to the room they were still bickering. Grainne now sat in the seat closest to her father and rested an arm on the bed beside him, staking her claim. And Martin was staking his claim too. “Mom called me to come down with her. I guess she didn’t want to have to deal with . . .” His voiced trailed away as his mother approached.

  “Oh yeah! Well, I’m sure Daddy is much happier now that I’m here,” Grainne hissed unaware, as her mother stood behind her. They really hadn’t changed all that much. They had grown up and filled their lives with children of their own, but when it came to their father they were still as they had always been. Deirdre used to resent Danny for that but now it was theirs to deal with. It was just anger, the first manifestation of grief.

  “I think”—she reasserted herself between them—“he might be aware of us so please, let’s put everything else aside for now.”

  Grainne rose to let her mother sit but perched on the armrest between her and her brother.

  “You’re right, Mom. That’s what Daddy would want.”

  *

  As the afternoon darkened, they had to leave. Martin first, when the office called, and in time Grainne had to pick up the kids. A neighbor had been kind enough but she didn’t want to impose. But she hoped her mother would be all right alone. How long did she intend to stay? Did she want to come over and have dinner with Doug and the kids? No? Maybe another night?

  “As you can see, Danny”—Deirdre leaned forward and absently began to stroke the back of her ex-husband’s hand—“we’re still pretty much as we were when you left us.”

  It almost sounded bitter, and a little judgmental, so she searched for something lighter. “And we still haven’t figured out what to make of you. I was just thinking that it could be fun to put a big question mark on your gravestone. Not that I want you to die or anything. In fact . . .”

  She paused as she searched for her most honest feelings—it was the least he deserved on his death bed. “I suppose I just want to see what fate has in store for you next.”

  He didn’t respond, of course, and just lay there. The only signs he was still alive were the gentle beeps and the pulsing lines on the monitor beside his bed.

  “I don’t know what else to say, Danny, and I must warn you: I have no more tears. You’ve kind of used up your store.” She did stop to sniffle a little and laugh. “I suppose I still have a little love for you and, God love you, Danny, you always needed all you could get.”

  She relaxed as they shared a silence broken only by the beeps and the noises from outside, where nurses and doctors passed in quiet deference. It was peaceful, but Deirdre couldn’t stay much longer. She left her numbers with the desk. They would call if there was any change and she’d be right over. And if nothing had changed she’d be back in the morning.

  “Have a good night, Danny,” she whispered into his ear before she rose and left.

  Chapter 17 – Christmas 2011

  The first thing Grainne thought about when she opened her eyes was her father. She rose quietly and checked her phone. There were no missed messages and that was something to be positive about. But as she wrapped herself in her warm robe she began to feel guilty. Her daddy was still in a coma. Who knew what kind of suffering he was going through?

  She left the bedroom and ghosted downstairs, not wanting to wake anyone. She was considerate—something she never got enough credit for. She knew they all thought she was such a drama queen. She had to be; she was the central nervous system for two families, and every now and then she just had to vent. And she wouldn’t have to if only they would stop and listen to her once in a while.

  It was always down to her to try to make everybody happy. She’d done it with her parents and her brother, then Doug when his hockey dream died, and now her own children. Sometimes she’d tried not getting involved but that only made things worse. Things would fall apart, and then she’d have to try to put them all back together again. If only they listened to her once in a while and not go on making the same mistakes over and over.

  Her mother would have chided her for giving in to self-pity, but she needed to indulge herself a little. Doug had been working late again—and had been for weeks. And when he did come home he hardly had time to speak to her. She couldn’t help wonder about that, even though it was like poking an icicle into her heart. She told herself not to—not now when everyone was so upset about her father. Besides, she might be wrong. He might really be busy. Or maybe he was just out drinking with his friends? He and Martin still had their boys’ night, though they hadn’t in a few months.

  But what if he met someone when they were out and Martin liked her too? He always joked that Doug would be better off with someone else, and she sometimes wondered if he really meant it. Deep down, she knew he really loved her. Very deep, and Doug too. So what if they went out and drank and flirted for a while? It was just a phase men went through.

  She and Rachael used to have a girls’ night out, too, until they both realized they were just far too tired and took turns visiting each other’s houses for girls’ movie night instead. But even that became an effort and just died out. Doug still encouraged her to start it up again. He said that Rachael told him she really liked spending time with her.

  Grainne was never sure about that. Rachael always acted very nice with her but sometimes she seemed condescending. And she never complained about things and always looked bemused when Grainne did. Martin had probably told her all kinds of terrible things about when they were kids.

  Sometimes it got to her. Doug always told her that she was more beautiful even though he did admit that he thought Rachael was beautiful too. And no, he never once wished that Grainne could be more like her—something she always asked after the four of them had been out together.

  She had to. Whenever they were out at a restaurant it felt as though Rachael and Doug were the happily married couple. They just seemed to fit better together, always supporting each other with knowing glances when their respective spouses jokingly complained. Even her mother had noticed but just laughed. She said that Doug and Rachael had probably formed a survival pact. Grainne had laughed along with her, but later it began to gnaw at her and now it was becoming obvious; something was going on.

  She moved mechanically around her kitchen but it followed along behind. She had checked his shirts and his underwear but could find nothing. She called his office often but always got to speak to him directly. But she knew; she had women’s intuition. She always knew things were going to happen before anybody else. Everything that could happen to a family like them happened, and each time only she saw it coming.

  That was one of the reasons she never cut her father out. She always knew a time would come when only she could make it better. Her mother and her brother were in denial. They were always like that—bottling everything up and turning their frustration on her. “Just because you’ve got feelings,” they’d chide her, “doesn’t mean you have to impose them on the rest of us.”

  Grainne knew they really loved her, even Martin. He’d always been there when things started to turn bad. He’d come into her room when their parents were arguing. He’d start clowning around with her, rearranging her dolls or trying to read whatever she was reading. That always drew her out of herself and they’d pretend to fight to drown out the noise below. Only somewhere along the way, it started to get serious. It was around the same time her father left. That was when Martin started to become impatient with her and rolled his eyes whenever she spoke. Her mother said it was because he was becoming a teenager but Grainne knew; it was because her father wasn’t there to stick up for her.

  Oh my God. She was a typical little sister and she knew it back then. She knew what she was doing when she got their father involved. She couldn’t help it, even though he always became really angry at Martin. Then her mother would get mad at her father and, no matter how hard she tried, Grainne
could never put all the pieces back together.

  She paused for a moment to check. The table was set—pulp-free orange juice, whatever cereal was on sale, coffee in a pot—and the diet pop tarts were in the toaster oven. She would take one more deep breath and call up to them. Doug had got them out of bed but had rowdied them up.

  “Doug the pug! Doug the pug! Doug the pug!”

  “Mom?”

  “Doug the pug! Doug the . . .”

  “Listen to me, Daniel.” She bent so she could make eye content.

  “But he . . .” His little face grew redder in ignominy. She always tried him first. Douglas was more stubborn and couldn’t be reasoned with. “Mommy is asking you to please stop teasing your brother. For Granddad’s sake?”

  “Oh no!” their father announced from the doorway. He was clean shaven, freshly showered and dressed in his good suit. Recently he’d been dressing up more for work. It was a sure sign; men only did that when they were in love with someone new.

  “Did I hear any naughty kids in here?” He put his hands on both of their heads at the very same time. He seemed to know how to turn them up and down at will—like the surround sound. She always pressed the wrong buttons. “I just got a text from you-know-who and he was just checking that his lists were up to date.”

  The boys forgot about their rift and gazed at him in shock and awe. He could always do that. He just had to walk into the room to settle things. Where she would fumble and try to out-negotiate them, he’d just pull out something like Santa Clause and they’d stop. When she tried it, they just looked at her as if she was crazy. Their father always bought them the latest, bright shiny gadgets while she tried to find fun underwear and hats, gloves and scarves, which they lost by the end of January. She was just there for all the everyday stuff. Still, she appreciated when he did it. If only he would do the same for the two of them.

  “The Big Guy was asking about you, too, you know?” He stood so close to her as he poured his coffee and reached across her toward the toaster. She could feel his breath on her cheek but she couldn’t look up into his eyes. She mightn’t be who she saw in the reflection.

  “You were very late again.” She moved past him so she could watch her children—with her back to him. She didn’t want him to see she was furious at him. He was out betraying her and the boys, but for their sake she would ignore it for now. At least until after the holidays—and the crisis with her father had passed. After that she would confront him and, after he’d made a full confession, see if she could give him another chance. But only if he promised to stop seeing her. And admitted that it really meant nothing—that he just got a little drunk and made a mistake.

  He’d have to get down on his knees and beg her to forgive him. She would, but she wasn’t sure if she could ever forget it. She’d try—for the kids’ sake—but she couldn’t promise. And they would have to go to counseling. This would never have happened if they took time to work on their relationship. But who had time for things like that?

  They would have to make the time and, in time, when they’d talked everything out, she might be able to forgive him. But only after he’d come to realize how much he’d hurt her and the kids. In time, she would admit that a little bit of it might have been her fault too. She was always pushing him to be better. He’d told her he needed that when they first got together. He asked her to help him become a better man—just like in the movie—but somewhere along the way he stopped wanting that.

  After that, all he seemed to want from her was that she dress up at night and be somebody totally different. And they hadn’t even done that in months. She still wanted to, but she wanted him to be somebody different too. She wanted him to be more smoldering and mysterious. Someone who was walking along a boulevard and saw her and couldn’t take another step without her. And it had to be him so she would be able to look into his eyes and see herself sparkle the way she did before. She couldn’t think of being with anyone else.

  “Sorry, Gra, but I had to work late. You know how it gets?”

  “You work too much. It’s Christmas.” He only called her “Gra” on special occasions, like when he was trying to reassure her about something.

  “Yeah. But I’m trying to get something finished. I’m right up against another deadline.”

  “I hope it’s worthwhile—spending all that time away from me and the kids.”

  That got his full attention and he put down his coffee and took her in his arms. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” She couldn’t look at him; she was wondering if he held someone else that way too.

  “I’m sorry. I know I promised but it can’t be helped. It’s end of the year stuff and I’m swamped.” He tried to lift her chin with his fingers but she wouldn’t let him and turned her head toward the kids who were watching them in stunned silence. She had to step past it, for now.

  “I know, dear, and we all appreciate it. Don’t we?” she encouraged the boys and nodded her head. She didn’t want anybody to see the corners of her eyes where little tears were welling up.

  He noticed and took her into his arms again. “I promise. I’ll be home on time tonight. I promise.”

  She stole a glance at his eyes. Damn, he was good. There wasn’t a trace of lies to be seen. Instead he was looking at her a little quizzically, as if he was wondering if it was all getting to her.

  “Any news on your dad? I didn’t ask already because I thought you might need a break from it.”

  “So why are you asking now?”

  “Because you seem upset.”

  He stood waiting for her answer until his phone rang and, as he raised it to his face, she read the caller ID.

  “I gotta take this,” he explained, looking as though he’d been caught in his lie as he walked from the room. She smiled at her children and turned back toward the stove before she betrayed herself. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  *

  They hadn’t been to The Windsor in a while. Doug was surprised that Martin even suggested it but it was just around the corner from the hospital. When they first started having boys’ night, they hung out there under the watchful eye of Jimmy McVeigh who looked after them, even sending his bouncers to bail them out the night they’d tried to pick up two girls who were with a couple of guys who would have kicked the shit out of them. But the bouncers were bigger, and far meaner, and the matter was settled subtly enough.

  That was back when he and Martin could afford to be young and foolish—the way young men were supposed to be. That was when they bonded forever. That was when Martin started to let down his shields and open up to him. They’d been the best of friends since they made the same team, closer in some ways than to their wives. And when they got together, away from the wives and kids, and all the bullshit of the week, they always got around to talking about it.

  The “Windsor Years” Doug called them, some of the best times of their lives.

  Until Danny found out and started showing up. Even Doug could see that he was begging for another chance, but Martin didn’t want to know and they stopped going. Martin found them a new place but it was never the same. Nothing ever came close, but Doug didn’t complain. He knew things would never be right between Martin and his father.

  He also knew Martin’s mother still saw Danny. Grainne told him, but she closed like a steel gate when he asked how she knew. Doug didn’t have to pry; he knew she was seeing him too. He could tell from the credit card bills. Lunch at places like Swiss Chalet, purchases at the LCBO and, recently, a new winter coat. Her father went through a lot of coats—and visits to the LCBO. Doug never said anything; he still liked her father. Danny always knew how to enjoy himself. But Doug kept his views to himself. Grainne was very prickly on that subject and Martin was even worse.

  The Windsor was a very different place during the day. Efficient, with just a touch of quirky humor. The lunch
time crowd was mostly men grabbing a beer and a sandwich, rebelling briefly from their cubicles, but with their phones on the table in front of them where they could see them. No one could really disconnect anymore.

  Doug ordered a beer and sat at the bar. He didn’t feel like eating. His stomach was knotted enough. The beer would help loosen it so he could breathe again. He had to hang in there. Martin was his last hope.

  On cue he walked in and looked around the whole room before seeing him. When he sat, he carefully tugged his shirt sleeves so his golden cufflinks could be seen, and the gold strap of his watch. Doug had never seen him act so ostentatiously before but he could understand. It was the thing that drove him—never wanting to be compared to his father. It was what had driven him so far up the ladder—something Grainne was always reminding him of.

  “Thanks.”

  “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” Martin slapped him playfully across the shoulder to mask what he really meant. They both knew why they were there and they both knew they both knew.

  “You agreed to lunch. My treat.” Doug had enough for lunch, at least for now.

  *

  “I’m here now.” Martin finally answered his phone. Grainne had been calling for over an hour. “I’m just getting off the elevator.”

  She had called while he was talking with Doug but they both agreed that he should ignore it. He was tempted. He wanted to tell his nosy little sister that he was having lunch with her husband who was about to lose his job and would have to try to make ends meet by delivering pizzas over in North York where no one would know him. Doug hadn’t told her, and as far as she was concerned everything was fine.

  Martin had agreed to see what he could do. He wasn’t making any promises but he’d try to call in a few favors, and Doug seemed happy enough with that. He wasn’t really cut out for the job but Martin would sort something out.

  “It’s about time you got here.”