CHAPTER 22
The Soul Catches Up
LOU’S FATHER WAS BESIDE HIM, looking around the room like a lost child, no doubt feeling nervous and embarrassed that everyone had come tonight for him.
“Where’s Ruth?” his father asked.
“Eh,” Lou looked around for the hundredth time, unable to find her, “she’s just chatting with some guests.”
“Right…Nice view from up here.” He nodded out the window. “City’s come a long way.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d like it,” Lou said, glad he’d gotten one thing right.
“So which one is your office?” His father looked across the river Liffey at the office buildings, which remained lit up at this hour.
“That one there, directly opposite.” Lou pointed. “Thirteen floors up, on the fourteenth floor.”
Lou’s father glanced at him, obviously thinking the numbering peculiar, and for the first time Lou felt it too, could see how it could be perceived as odd and confusing. This rattled him. He had always been so sure about it.
“It’s the one with all the lights on,” Lou explained more simply. “Office party.”
“Ah, so that’s where it is.” His father nodded. “That’s where it all happens.”
“Yes,” Lou said proudly. “I just got a promotion tonight, Dad.” He smiled. “I haven’t told anybody yet. It’s your night, of course,” he backtracked.
“A promotion?” His father’s bushy eyebrows rose.
“Yes.”
“More work?”
“Bigger office, better light,” he joked. When his dad didn’t laugh, he became serious. “Yes, more work. More hours. But I like to work hard.”
“I see.” His father was silent.
Frustration rose within Lou. A single congratulations was all he wanted.
“You’re happy there?” his father asked casually, still looking out the window, the party behind them visible in the reflection. “No point in working that hard if you’re not, because at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”
Lou pondered that, both disappointed by the lack of praise and intrigued by his father’s thinking at the same time.
“But you always told me to work hard,” Lou said suddenly, feeling an anger he had never known was there. “You always taught us not to rest on our laurels for a second, if I recall the phrase exactly.” He felt tense.
“I didn’t want you all to be lazy, by any means,” his dad responded, and he turned to look Lou in the eye. “In any aspect of your life, not just in your work. Any tightrope walker can walk in a straight line and hold a cane at the same time. It’s the balancing on the rope at those dizzying heights that they have to practice,” he said simply.
A staff member carrying a chair in her hand came up and broke the quiet tension. “Excuse me, who is this for?” She looked around at the family. “My boss told me that someone in this party asked for a chair.”
“Em, yes, I did,” Lou laughed bitterly. “But I asked for chairs. Plural. For all the guests.”
“Oh, well, we don’t have that amount of chairs on the premises,” she apologized. “So who would like this chair?”
“Your mother,” Lou’s father said quickly, turning to the others, not wanting any fuss. “Let your mother sit down.”
“No, I’m fine, Fred,” Lou’s mother objected. “It’s your birthday; you have the chair.”
Lou closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had paid twelve thousand euro for his family to fight over the use of a chair.
“Also, the DJ said that the only traditional music he has is the Irish National Anthem. Would you like him to play it?”
“What?” Lou snapped.
“It’s what he plays at the end of the night, but he has no other Irish songs with him,” she apologized. “Shall I tell him to play it for you all now?”
“No!” Lou snapped. “That’s ludicrous. Tell him no.”
“Can you please give him this?” Marcia interjected politely, reaching into a cardboard box she had underneath the table. From it, party hats, streamers, and banners overflowed. She handed the woman a collection of CDs. Their father’s favorite songs. She looked up at Lou briefly while handing them over. “For when you fucked up,” she said, then looked away.
It was a short comment, delivered quietly, but it hit him harder than everything else she’d said to him that evening. He’d thought he was the organized one, the one who knew how to throw a party, the one who knew to call in favors and throw the biggest bash. But while he was busy thinking he was all that, his family was busy with Plan B, in preparation for his failures. All in a cardboard box.
Suddenly the room cheered as Quentin stepped out of the elevator along with Gabe — whom Lou hadn’t known was invited — each with a pile of chairs stacked up in their arms.
“There are more on the way!” Quentin announced to the crowd, and suddenly the atmosphere picked up as everyone looked to one another with relief.
“Lou!” Gabe’s face lit up when he saw him. “I’m so glad you came.” He laid the chairs out for a few elderly people nearby and approached Lou, hand held out, leaving Lou confused as to whose party it was. Gabe leaned in close to Lou’s ear. “Did you double up?”
“What? No.” Lou shook him off, annoyed.
“Oh,” Gabe said with surprise. “The last I saw of you, you and Alison were having a meeting in your office. I didn’t realize you left the office party.”
“Yes, of course I did. Why do you have to assume the worst, that I had to take one of those pills to show up at my own father’s party?” Lou feigned insult.
Gabe merely smiled. “Hey, it’s funny how life works, isn’t it?” Then he nudged Lou.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the way one minute you can be up here, and then the next minute all the way down there?” On Lou’s puzzled look, Gabe continued, “I just mean that when we met last week, I was down there, looking up and dreaming about being here. And now look at me. It’s funny how it all switches around. I’m up in the penthouse; Mr. Patterson gave me a new job — ”
“He what?”
“Yeah, he gave me a job.” Gabe grinned and winked. “A promotion.”
Before Lou had the opportunity to respond, a waitress approached them with a tray.
“Would anybody like some food?” She smiled.
“Oh, no, thank you, I’ll wait for the shepherd’s pie.” Lou’s mother smiled at her.
“This is the shepherd’s pie.” The woman pointed to a mini blob of potato sitting in a minuscule cupcake holder.
There was a moment’s silence, and Lou’s heart almost ripped through his skin from its hectic beating.
“Is there more food coming later?” Marcia asked.
“Apart from the cake? No” — she shook her head — “this is it for the evening. Trays of hors d’oeuvres.” She smiled again as though not picking up on the hostility that was currently swirling around her.
“Oh,” Lou’s father said, trying to sound upbeat. “Then you can just leave the tray here.”
“The whole tray?” She looked dubious.
“Yes, we’ve a hungry family here,” Lou’s father said, taking the tray from her hands and placing it on the tall table so that everybody had to stand up from their chairs in order to reach.
“Oh, okay.” She watched it being placed down and slowly backed away, trayless.
“You mentioned a cake?” Marcia asked, her voice high-pitched and screechy.
“Yes.”
“Let me see it, please,” she said, casting a look of terror at Lou. “What color is it? What’s on it? Does it have raisins? Daddy hates raisins.” They could hear her questioning the waitress as she headed to the kitchen, her cardboard box of damage-limitation items in hand.
“So, who invited you, Gabe?” Lou felt anxious, not wanting to discuss Gabe’s promotion any longer.
“Ruth did,” Gabe said, reaching for a mini shepherd’s pie.
“Why wouldn’t you think so?” Gabe shrugged. “She invited me the night I had dinner and stayed over at your house.”
“Why do you say it like that? Don’t say it like that,” Lou said childishly, squaring his shoulders at him. “You weren’t invited to dinner in my house. You dropped me home and ate leftovers.”
Gabe looked at him curiously. “Okay.”
“Where is Ruth, anyway? I haven’t seen her all night.”
“Oh, we’ve been talking all evening on the balcony. I really like her,” Gabe responded, mashed potato dribbling down his chin and landing on his borrowed tie. Lou’s tie.
At that, Lou’s jaw clenched. “You really like her? You really like my wife? Well, that’s funny, Gabe, because I really like my wife, too. You and I have so fucking much in common, don’t we?”
“Lou,” Gabe said, smiling nervously, “you might want to keep your voice down just a little.”
Lou looked around and smiled at the attention they’d attracted and playfully wrapped his arm around Gabe’s shoulder to show all was good. When the eyes looked away, he turned to face Gabe and dropped the smile.
“You really want my life, don’t you, Gabe?”
Gabe seemed taken aback, but he didn’t have the opportunity to respond. Just then, the elevator doors opened and out fell Alfred, Alison, and a crowd from the office party. Despite the noise of Lou’s father’s favorite songs blaring through the speakers, they managed to announce themselves to the room loud and clear, dressed in their Santa suits and party hats, blowing their noisemakers at anyone who so much as looked their way.
Lou darted from his family and ran up to the elevator, blocking Alfred’s path. “What are you all doing here?”
“We’re here to par-taay, my friend,” Alfred announced, swaying and blowing a party horn in his face.
“Alfred, you weren’t invited,” Lou said loudly.
“Alison invited me.” Alfred laughed. “And I think you know better than anyone how hard it is to turn down an invitation from Alison. But I don’t mind being sloppy seconds.” He laughed again, wavering drunkenly on the spot. Suddenly his sight line moved past Lou’s shoulder and his expression changed. “Ruth! How are you?”
With a swallow, Lou turned around and saw Ruth behind them.
“Alfred.” Ruth folded her arms and stared at her husband.
“Well, this is awkward,” Alfred said. “I think I’m going to go and join the party. I’ll leave you two to bludgeon each other in private.”
Alfred disappeared, leaving Lou alone with Ruth, and the hurt on her face was like a dagger through his heart. He’d gladly have anger any time.
“Ruth,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you all evening.”
“I see the party planner, Alison, joined us, too,” she said, her voice shaking as she tried to remain strong.
Lou looked over his shoulder and saw Alison, little dress and long legs, dancing seductively in the middle of the floor.
Ruth looked at him questioningly.
“I didn’t,” he said, the fight going out of him, not wanting to be that man anymore. “Hand on heart, I didn’t. She tried tonight, and I didn’t.”
Ruth laughed bitterly. “Oh, I bet she did.”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“Anything? Ever?” She studied his face intently, clearly hating herself, embarrassed and angry at having to ask.
He swallowed. He didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t want to lie. “A kiss. Once, is all. Nothing else.” He spoke faster now, panicking. “But I’m different now, Ruth, I’m — ”
She didn’t listen to the rest of it. She turned away from him, trying to hide her face and her tears from him. She walked over and opened the door to the balcony.
“Ruth — ” He tried to grab her arm and pull her back inside.
“Lou, let go of me. I swear to God, I’m not in the mood to talk to you now,” she said angrily.
He followed her out onto the balcony, and they moved away from the window so that they couldn’t be seen by anyone inside. Ruth leaned on the edge of the railing and looked out at the city, the cold air blowing around them. Lou moved close behind her, wrapped his arms tightly around her body, and refused to let go, despite her body’s going rigid as soon as he touched her.
“Help me fix this,” he whispered, close to tears. “Please, Ruth, help me fix this.”
She sighed, but her anger was still raw. “What the hell were you thinking? How many times did we all tell you how important this night was?”
“I know, I know,” he stuttered, thinking fast. “I was trying to prove to you all that I could — ”
“Don’t you dare lie to me again.” She stopped him short. “Don’t you dare lie when you’ve just asked for my help. You weren’t trying to prove anything. You were fed up with Marcia ringing you, fed up with all the details, you were too busy — ”
“Please, I don’t need to hear this right now.” He winced.
“This is exactly what you need to hear. You were too busy at work to care about your father or about Marcia’s plans. You got a stranger who knew nothing about your father’s seventy years on this Earth to plan the whole thing for you. Her.” She pointed inside at Alison, who was now doing the limbo, revealing her red lace underwear to all who were looking. “A little tramp whom you probably screwed while dictating the party guest list,” she spat.
“That didn’t happen, I swear. I know I messed everything up. I’m sorry.” He was so used to saying that word now.
“And what was it all for? For a promotion? A pay raise that you don’t even need? More work hours in a day that just aren’t humanly possible to achieve? When will you stop? When will it all be enough for you? How high do you want to climb, Lou?” She paused. “Last week you said that a job can fire you, but a family can’t. I think you’re about to realize that the latter is possible after all.”
“Ruth.” He closed his eyes, ready to jump off the balcony then and there. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Not me, Lou,” she said. “I’m talking about them.”
He turned around and watched his family now dancing in a train around the room, kicking up their legs every few steps.
“I’m racing with Quentin tomorrow. On the boat.” He looked at her for praise.
“I thought Gabe was doing that?” Ruth asked in confusion. “Gabe volunteered right here in front of me. Quentin said yes.”
Lou’s blood boiled. “No, I’m definitely going to do it.” He would make sure of it.
“Oh, really? Is that before or after you’re coming ice-skating with me and the kids?” she asked before walking off and leaving him alone on the balcony, cursing himself for forgetting his promise to Lucy.
As Ruth opened the door to go back inside, music rushed out, along with a burst of warm air. Then the door closed again, but he felt a presence behind him. She hadn’t gone inside. She hadn’t left him.
“I’m sorry about everything I’ve ever done. I want to fix it all,” he said with exhaustion. “I’m tired now. I want to fix it. I want everyone to know that I’m sorry. I’d do anything for them to know that and to believe me. Please help me fix it,” he repeated.
Had Lou turned around then he would have seen that his wife had indeed left him, that she’d rushed off inside to once again cry her tears of frustration for a man who had convinced her only hours previously that he had changed. It was Gabe who had stepped out onto the balcony when Ruth had rushed off, and it was Gabe who’d just heard Lou’s confessions.
Gabe knew that Lou Suffern was exhausted. Lou had spent so many years moving so quickly through the minutes, hours, and days that he’d stopped noticing life. The looks, gestures, and emotions of other people had long stopped being important or visible to him. Passion had driven him at first, and then, while on his way to the somewhere he wanted to be, he’d left it behind. He’d moved too fast, he’d taken no pause for
breath; his rhythm was too quick, his heart could barely keep up.
As Lou breathed in the cold December air and lifted his face up to the sky, to feel — and appreciate — the icy droplets of rain that started to fall onto his skin, he knew that his soul was coming to get him.
He could feel it.
CHAPTER 23
The Best Day
AT NINE A.M. ON SATURDAY, the day after his father’s seventieth birthday party, Lou Suffern sat out in his backyard and lifted his face and closed his eyes to the morning sun. He’d clambered over the fence that separated their one-acre landscaped garden — where pathways and pebbles, garden beds and giant pots were neatly organized — from the rugged and wild terrain that lay beyond human meddling. Splashes of yellow gorse were everywhere, as though somebody in Dalkey had taken a paintball gun and fired carelessly in the direction of the northside headland. Lou and Ruth’s house sat at the very top of the summit, their back garden looking out to the north with vast views of Howth village below, the harbor, and out farther again to Ireland’s Eye.
Lou sat on a rock and breathed in the fresh air. His numb nose dribbled, his cheeks were frozen stiff, and his ears ached from the nip in the wind. His fingers had turned a purplish blue, as though they were being strangled at the knuckles — not good weather for vital parts, but ideal weather for sailing. Unlike the carefully maintained gardens of his and his neighbors’ houses, the wild and rugged gorse had been even more lovingly left to grow as it wanted. It had roamed the mountainside and stamped its authority firmly around the headland. The land here was hilly and uneven; it rose and fell without warning, apologized for nothing, and offered no assistance to trekkers. It was the student in the last row in class, quiet but suggestive, sitting back to view the traps it had laid. Despite Howth’s wild streak in the mountains and the hustle and bustle of the fishing village, the town itself always had a sense of calm. It had a patient, grandparental feel about it: lighthouses that guided inhabitants of the waters safely to shore; cliffs that stood like a line of impenetrable Spartans with heaving chests, fierce against the elements. There was the pier that acted as a mediator between land and sea and dutifully ferried people out as far as humanly possible; the martello tower that stood like a lone aging soldier who refused to leave his zone long after the trouble had ended. Despite the constant gust that attacked the headland, the town was steady and stubborn.
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