by Kelly, A. S.
“Have you ever thought about proving them wrong?”
He looks at me, curious.
“You know, training, getting better…”
“How?”
“Well, you’re here for fuck’s sake!”
“Did you just say ‘fuck’?”
“No! Hell, no!”
“You did. You said—”
“Okay, I said it, but that’s beside the point.”
“What is the point?”
I stand up and gesture for him to do the same. “Come with me,” I tell him, jumping down from the stands. Then I turn to the other bored-looking kids sitting there. “Okay, guys. So you’re all losers. And that’s fine, it’s not a problem. You see?” I point to myself. “I’m a loser too. The one who has to sit on the stands and help. But you know what I say? I’m tired of watching. It’s time to get up and do something.”
They all look at me, shocked. Maybe I was a bit too harsh.
“Come with me. Uncle Nick is going to give you a few tips to make you less nerdy – or, at least, to make you seem less nerdy.”
“Seriously?” asks the boy next to me.
“You can count on it, mate.”
“Cool.”
I look at this boy, so scared and insecure. But, in his eyes, I see he’s looking for payback, and an old image starts to flare up inside me. It’s faded over time, but it’s still there, right in my chest.
“Yeah. Really cool.”
7
Nick
As soon as I sit at the dinner table at my parents’ house, I can already sense the piss-taking that is about to descend over me. Ian and Ryan are sitting across from each other, exchanging glances and stifling laughs. I know that their irritating little titters are directed at me.
I ignore them, concentrating instead on the meal in front of me, vaguely listening to everyone’s chatting – mainly centred around the family’s new arrival. The only woman I can love wholeheartedly, who I’ll keep loving for the rest of my life. Every so often, I glance at her, just as everyone else keeps doing; but she’s already worked out that, to survive the O’Connors, you have to pretend to be asleep to avoid everyone else’s bullshit.
“So, Nick…This new…job?” Ian says, barely holding in his laughter.
Speaking of bullshit: now it’s my turn. I keep eating, slowly chewing my meat. “I was giving Jamie a hand.”
“So what do you have to do?” he presses, curious, as Ryan stops eating and leans back in his chair, contemplating his next move.
“I’m helping the kids.”
“Oh,” Mum exclaims, confused.
“It’s the UCD centre’s summer camp.”
My father’s fork hangs in mid-air. “You? Working with kids?” he pipes up too. I guess, deep down, those two dickheads do have his DNA. Well, kind of.
“What do you have to do?” he asks, but I can sense the laughter in his tone, which only spurs on my idiot brothers.
“Jamie’s running the summer camp this year and he asked me to be his vice. We’re teaching the kids how to play.”
My father clears his voice. “Teaching kids.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” I ask, annoyed.
“Nothing.”
“Go on, say it.”
“Your dad isn’t saying anything, Nick, don’t get wound up. He’s just surprised, like I am.”
“Why are you all so surprised?”
“It’s just…strange.”
I cross my arms and wait, but Mum has no intention of expanding.
“Well, I think it’s a step in the right direction,” Ryan says, clearly trying to shove this even further down my throat. “You’re making a career for yourself.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Here we go,” Chris says, rolling her eyes.
“Rugby player, model, coach…What are they going to make you do next? Water boy?”
“Coaching isn’t that bad – and it’s still rugby, right?” Riley tries to jump in to my rescue, but she hasn’t realised yet that when you step out onto the field with the O’Connors, it’s a fight to the death. A massacre, with no prisoners.
“It’s just for two weeks,” I try to clear up. “And it’s actually not so bad.”
“Of course, Nick. I think it’s nice,” Mum comments.
“You could always learn something,” Dad adds.
“I’m actually there to teach.”
Ryan and Ian both try to chew down their laughter.
“Boys,” Mum scolds them.
“Spending time with them will definitely help you,” Dad goes on. “They could teach you something really important.”
“Like what? How to win the last level of MarioKart?” Ryan says.
“The fact that you even know what you’re talking about says a lot,” Chris says, helping me out.
“It’s Evan’s fault,” Ryan says, immediately shifting the blame to her son.
“Hey, even I don’t play that stuff. It’s for little kids,” Evan responds, disgruntled.
“And you’re not a little kid?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Chris says, resting her elbows on the table and dropping her head into her hands.
The poor woman is already exasperated. I wonder how long it’ll be before she kicks Ryan out. I hope she warns me first – I wouldn’t want to miss the show.
My dad leans over to me and speaks softly, so the others won’t hear. “You can always learn something, Nick. From anyone – and especially from kids.”
“I don’t get what you mean.”
“You will,” he says, before turning back to his dinner.
* * *
“How come the physiotherapist is coming over so late?” I ask Mum as I help her load up the dishwasher.
“This is just so that they can meet each other. You know, for your dad…”
“Sure. I hope he likes her.”
Mum sighs. “Me too.”
“Martin says that she can work with any type of patient, even the most difficult ones, and ones with specific…conditions,” Chris comments delicately.
The problem with this family is that everyone speaks without thinking – no one has any issues spouting all kinds of bullshit – but no one has the courage to talk about Dad, to give it a name.
Dad has Alzheimer’s. It has a name, for fuck’s sake. Let’s use it.
He’s getting worse, even if, thankfully, he’s not a complete invalid yet. He can still sit and talk with us most of the time, but the doctors have told us quite clearly not to wait around for any miracles. And they’re right. We all know it, but it’s impossible not to hope that it’ll be a while before things really start to deteriorate.
But Dad has started to close himself off, and everyone’s noticed it. He goes out less and less. To be honest, he never goes out at all anymore. After the last few instances, which sent Mum into a total panic, we decided to stop putting her nerves to the test. He’s starting to hate hospitals, too – they make him uncomfortable, and he doesn’t like the doctors. Taking him for a check-up has become really difficult, and after his accident at home, things have got much worse.
The days he spent recovering after the surgery were terrible. He was agitated and nervous, and would lash out for no reason. As soon as he was home, things were a bit better, but he refused to go to any kind of centre for his physiotherapy. We tried to reason with him, we waited a while, but by that point, we had to make a decision: and Chris’ idea, to have someone come to the house, was the best solution we could think of.
We’re all just hoping it pays off.
The doorbell goes. Our physio’s here.
“Can you go, Nick?” Mum asks nervously.
“Sure, no problem.”
I close the door of the dishwasher and head to the front door, ready to let her in. But when I flash one of my best smiles, fate, destiny or maybe bad luck, hits me square in the chest.
8
Ca
sey
“Nervous?”
“A bit. I wish I knew a bit more about this patient.”
“That’s why I’m introducing you,” Martin says. “Relax, you’ll like him.”
“I don’t have to like him, I have to work with him.”
“Even better.”
“How come this has to be a home visit? If he just has a torn meniscus, could he not have come to the hospital?”
Martin sighs thoughtfully.
“Oh no. There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
“Maybe…”
“Martin!”
“I didn’t want to hide it from you, I just wanted you to meet him first. I haven’t known him for long, but what he’s done for his family is really admirable.”
“Okay, but I’d rather know what’s happening before I meet him.”
“He’s ill.”
“Ill? Ill how?”
“Alzheimer’s.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling sorry for him. “And he doesn’t…?”
“He’s still fine. He has his moments where he gets confused and agitated, but for now his family can still handle everything – even though it’s not easy.”
“Of course, I get that.”
“But after his accident, things have got worse. It’s like he’s lost the will to fight, you know? He keeps a lot to himself, and he’s developed this aversion to doctors, hospitals, and going outside at all.”
“That’s understandable, his accident probably made him consider everything a little more. He’s probably scared of having another one.”
Martin turns suddenly and looks at me. “This is why I asked you.”
I smile at him.
“And you need it, right? What with them cutting back your hours at the hospital.”
“Damn budget cuts! I really could’ve done without that.”
“Well, luckily your friend Martin is here with his tights and superhero cape.”
“I don’t see any tights.”
“Trust me, I’d look amazing.”
“You look amazing in everything,” I say, letting my gaze slide over him.
Martin is charming and charismatic. He’s sarcastic, he’s funny, but he can also be sweet when he wants to be. He has dark, magnetic eyes and sandy hair that’s always tousled. He has that kind of face you want to punch, but that you find irresistible at the same time.
It’s a shame he’s off-limits.
“Ready?” He switches off the engine and turns to face me.
I pull myself out of my daydreams about Martin and finally look up at where I am.
“Oh no!”
“What?”
“This is the O’Connors’ place!”
“You know them?”
“Shit!”
“Okay, so apparently you know them pretty well. Let’s see…which of those three dickheads is the problem? Ian, Ryan or Nick?”
I shake my head, avoiding the question.
“I don’t know Ian very well, but he doesn’t seem too bad. I can’t say the same about Ryan though – unfortunately, he’s Chris’ boyfriend.”
I turn suddenly towards him. “Really? Ryan O’Connor?”
“Yup.” He rolls his eyes.
“You never told me.”
“I’m hoping that sooner or later he’ll disappear. I also didn’t know you knew him.”
“Ryan and your Chris.”
“She’s not my Chris.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Don’t change the subject. We’ll talk about Dickhead Number Three another time – now I’m just wondering which one is your dickhead…although, by this point, I think I’ve worked it out.”
I sigh, looking at the O’Connors’ front door.
“So, Dickhead Number One, eh? What happened? A bad break-up? Did he cheat on you? Did he leave you for a Victoria’s Secret model?”
“Nothing like that.”
“So what’s the problem? Were you secretly in love with him, hoping that sooner or later he’d notice you?”
I turn back to look at him.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Don’t say anything!”
“He’s not the one from the swimming pool, is he?”
“I told you not to say anything!”
“I won’t. But, again: fuck.”
“You’re doing it again!”
“Sorry, you’re right.”
“I wish I’d never told you. It’s your fault, though. It was your brilliant idea to go and get a drink after work.”
“You’re the one who can’t handle your alcohol.”
“I handle it perfectly fine. My tongue just slips, you know that.”
“True. I always find a way to get people to confess their secrets to me. It’s one of my many talents.”
“I don’t want to know the others. I’d rather ignore them.”
Martin takes my hand, and I lift my gaze to meet his.
“You’re good. Actually, no: you’re the best. I shouldn’t even have to tell you. And you’re the right person to help Mr O’Connor. Besides, you need the extra work, don’t you?”
“I can’t go into that house, Martin. I can’t work for them. It would be…too weird.”
“Somebody here won’t have forgotten,” Martin implies cheekily.
“Keep your mouth shut.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Martin…”
“I promise, Casey. I won’t say another word.”
“And don’t say anything to Chris.”
He scoffs. “You can count on me.”
“I hope so.”
“So…What are we going to do about Dickhead Number One?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It isn’t really a problem.”
“How do you feel knowing you’re going to see him again?”
“Why, does he live here?” I ask, suddenly overcome by panic.
“No, but he’s always here visiting his family. He moved back to the city a few months ago, and I don’t know how long he’ll be staying for.”
“So he’s back.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
And he didn’t even let me know.
“You know, I think it was destiny that made this series of events drop you right onto his doorstep.”
“We actually bumped into each other a few days ago at the hospital, but I thought he was just visiting to see the baby.”
“You see? I’m right. It’s fate. How was it?”
“Awkward. Mainly for him.”
“Interesting…” Martin grins at me. It’s one of those smiles that always means trouble – that means this ridiculous situation will only get worse.
“You could always get the upper hand here with the surprise effect.”
“To do what?”
“To make him see what he’s missing out on.”
“He’s not missing out on anything.”
“That’s what you think.”
I sigh, exasperated.
“I don’t know why, but I think he’ll realise what he’s missing – and soon. Of course, if you give him a little push…”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Please, Casey. He’s a guy – and, from what I’ve seen, he’s not particularly switched-on, while you’re pretty and clever. And you’re a woman… You could bring him to his knees just by batting your eyelashes or wiggling that beautiful arse of yours.”
“Why should I? I don’t see any reason to.”
“Aren’t you someone who likes a challenge? Show him that he doesn’t understand a fucking thing about women, and show yourself—”
“What?” I threaten him.
“That you’re not that girl from the swimming pool anymore.”
Martin, I hate you.
“Unless there’s something else…”
“Absolutely not!”
“You don’t feel anything for him, do you?” Martin scrutinises my expression.
“Nothing. He has no effect on me at all.”
“Perfect. So what are we talking about then?”
I drop his hand and turn back to face the O’Connors’ house. A sea of emotions, memories and anger washes over me, and I can’t handle it all at once. Because when it comes to Dickhead Number One, my head loses all logic, all my good sense is fried and I completely lose any grasp of reality. But it’s been eight years, and so much has happened since then; I’ve grown, become much stronger. I’m immune to his charm and his bullshit – but he’s still the same as always.
“Nothing,” I say to Martin, turning back to him. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
I open the passenger door and get out of the car. I gather up my courage and head towards the front door, followed by Martin. I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell, ready to dive into the past and show Nick O’Connor – and myself – that no one has been standing around, waiting.
9
Nick
“Hi, Nick,” Martin says. “We’re here for our first meeting.”
I don’t answer him. I stand there in the doorway, frozen to the spot, not making a noise.
“This is Casey,” he says with a smirk that makes me suspect that someone here knows something he shouldn’t.
“Can we come in?”
I stand there, not moving, not speaking.
“Er…” Martin is starting to look uncomfortable. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Martin,” Casey steps in. “Nick’s just surprised to see me.”
“Nick!” Mum appears behind me. “What are you doing, just standing there? Where are your manners? Let them in right now.”
I step aside to let them through the doorway; Casey passes me and goes over to my mother, as Martin approaches me and says, under his breath: “You can close your mouth, now. Or you’ll be drooling all over your mother’s carpet.”
I suddenly close my mouth, realising that it actually was hanging wide open. I’m sure that was a pretty picture.
“Good evening,” Mum says, rushing to greet our guests. “I’m… Oh, Casey!” Her voice shoots up an octave. “What… I can’t believe… It’s so nice to see you!” Mum throws herself at her, squeezing her so hard that she almost can’t breathe.