by Kelly, A. S.
And as this angel – as Mum calls her – who came into our lives to save Ryan’s arse, talks to me calmly and sweetly, she makes me feel for the first time ever like I can take on this challenge. Something else starts to shift within me, and this time it really fucking hurts.
When my gaze falls onto her again, as she helps my dad down the steps into the garden, and guides him into a seat next to us, moving around our house as if she had always been part of the family, as if she were the missing piece, I start to understand that I wasn’t the only one lying.
The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision, says her T-shirt today.
And even an idiot like me could get it.
I know what all this means. I know how she feels, how I feel, and I know that everything that has happened between us in the past eight years is as clear as day.
I know that Casey lied, too.
And I know why.
22
Nick
Casey grabs her bag and heads towards the front door.
“Thanks for coming today, especially on a Sunday,” Mum says to her.
“It’s no problem, Karen. It was my pleasure, I had a lovely afternoon.”
“You could stay a little longer if you like?”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”
“Don’t be silly! Stay and have dinner. We’re having grilled steak, sweet potatoes and ratatouille.”
“Honestly, I don’t want to disturb.”
“Nonsense. The more the merrier! And Ian’s on his way, too, so we’ll all be here.”
“Exactly, it’s a family evening.”
“And you can’t miss it,” Dad says, joining in with the conversation.
“I’m not family.”
My parents exchange a glance: one of those glances that only the two of them understand, one that says everything. They have that sense of understanding that only belongs to people who have been in love for thirty-five years, wonderful people who have raised a family with love, respect, and solidarity. Two people that are crazy about each other, who I’m certain not even death could part. But it’s also a glance that means they have a plan: an open fire that will turn one unsuspecting victim’s life upside-down. And this time, I’m their target.
I just hope they have good aim, so I can come out of this in one piece.
And I hope no one gets caught in the crossfire.
“Of course you are, dear. You’re part of this family,” Dad says, and I can’t do anything but try to swallow down my stupid heart, to try and stop it leaping out of my throat and onto the ground. At least it would prove to everyone that I really do have one.
* * *
The dinner table is total chaos. There are too many of us; we’re loud, irritating, argumentative. But Casey doesn’t seem at all uncomfortable. She doesn’t even seem to want to escape as soon as possible.
I’m sitting next to my dad, who’s at the head of the table, with Riley on the other side – thank God, as she’s the only person I can stand in this family – and behind us, the love of my life is sitting there in her bouncer, alert, staring at the ceiling with her huge, curious eyes.
Every so often, I glance at her, to check if she’s okay, while Riley sits next to me, smiling sweetly every time she catches me looking.
“So, Casey. How’s everything at home?”
Mum is always the first to start a conversation which, more often than not, ends in a dark, dead-end alleyway with only a wall in front of you for you to slam your head against.
“Really good, thanks,” Casey says, filling her mouth with beef. “My dad’s out on a date tonight.”
“Seriously? Coach Madigan?” Ryan asks, shocked.
“Uh-huh,” Casey says, chewing, before taking a sip of wine then carrying on. “He’s seeing one of our neighbours.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mum says.
Why the hell would she care?
“It was about time,” Casey adds. “I’ve been trying to convince him to date for years, but he’s a tough nut to crack. I actually think it’s all thanks to Mrs Reynolds. She won’t stop bringing us biscuits, cakes, sometimes casseroles… She’s luring him in through his stomach, and it’s working.”
“Well, I’d say that you and your dad seem to have the same…nature,” Mum says, amused, watching Casey shovel her steak into her mouth as if she hasn’t eaten in weeks.
Casey laughs. “Sorry.”
“What for? Do you have any idea who else is sitting at this table?” Dad says.
“Well then, while I’m here,” Casey says, standing up to pierce the last slab of beef with her fork, “I’ll make the most of it.” She sits back, looking longingly at her steak, totally unaware that’s she’s risking her life. Ryan always takes the last piece of steak: as well as being the most annoying one, he’s the one who eats the most. And the one who’s less inclined to share his food.
“And how’s work going?” Mum continues.
Casey is Mum’s victim today. It should bother me, but it doesn’t. For starters, if she concentrates everyone’s attention on her, then my brothers may come out of this evening without a scrap. Secondly, I want to know everything about her. Luckily, Mum is so predictable that I knew she’d kick off the evening by diving straight into other people’s business. It’s a problem that everyone shares in this family, and I’m certain that we get it from her.
“It’s alright,” Casey says vaguely.
“Do you like what you do?”
“Sure.” Another vague response.
“Didn’t you want to be a doctor, once?”
Fuck, Ryan. Hallelujah! Finally, he’s useful for something. Maybe – just maybe – I’ll give you half my steak.
Casey stops for a moment, her fork suspended in mid-air. I see her waver a little, as if she doesn’t know whether or not to respond. Then she composes herself and says: “I used to. But things change.”
A dry, evasive response. She doesn’t want to say it, and that’s not like her.
“You have a great job,” Mum says, attempting to save the conversation. “And you help so many people.”
“Not as many as if I’d been a doctor,” she says, biting her lip.
There. She said it. She closes off the conversation and closes off herself. Casey never does that: it must mean that she’s hiding something, and that our nosey, prying family can’t know anything about it.
Nice move – even though it doesn’t work in my favour.
“And you guys,” Casey says, taking control of the conversation, “you did it. You made it onto the team.”
“Obviously,” Ryan responds.
Same old smartarse.
“Well, I had some serious doubts about you,” Casey shoots back.
“How come?”
“I never expected you to get onto the team at this age.”
“Are you saying I’m old?” Ryan says, getting heated.
“I never doubted Ian, though. He’d been ready for years.”
“Thanks, Casey.”
“Don’t be a suck-up,” Ryan complains. “There’s only two years’ difference between us!”
“Yeah, but he started first and didn’t waste any time playing for the baby teams.”
Oh shit.
“And what would you know about where I played? Maybe that’s thanks to someone…”
That piece of…
“Ryan…” Dad intervenes.
“And I’m not old, by the way.”
“Well, actually…” A melodious voice pipes up amongst the crowd. Little Evan is starting to grow on me. I need to spend more time with this kid. He needs my guidance.
“Don’t you start. You don’t even know if you’ll make it onto the team.”
Ouch. He shouldn’t have said that.
“At least I still have a good few years ahead of me to show I’m worthy.”
“If you are worthy…”
Chris scoffs; Ian gets to his feet, probably off to grab a beer or escap
e out of the back door; Riley pretends to check on the baby who, in the meantime, has decided to make the wisest decision: sleeping. I knew she’d be the most intelligent one in the family.
Evan and Ryan start to squabble, Dad keeps eating, my mum shakes her head and Casey laughs.
Why is she laughing at this?
I can tell that she doesn’t know that things are about to get ugly, and will probably end in another fistfight in my parents’ garden, with my dad trying to break it up and Ryan being grounded. Chris will probably leave him there, locked outside, while I go back to my apartment with a pounding migraine and an unbearable stomach ache.
“And if we’re all being honest, Nick’s the one who’s old.”
There we go. My favourite brother has come back to throw shit at me, just to stop him from drowning in his own.
“Say that again!” I jump to my feet, my fist balled up threateningly.
Ryan stands up too, screeching his chair back.
“Oooh, I’m so scared. I could knock you out in a second with my hands tied behind my back.”
“Sure, your muscles would be enough,” Chris adds sarcastically, taking a sip of her wine.
His comment about Evan obviously didn’t go down well. I guess someone’s sleeping on the sofa tonight.
“Whose side are you on here?” Ryan asks, agitated.
“The right side, mate,” Evan interjects. “Remember, blood before—”
Then my dad stands up.
He doesn’t need to screech his chair back, or yell at everyone. He lifts his gaze and lets it fall onto the two people arguing. Silence descends over the table, and everyone sits, frozen, waiting for the next move.
Ryan is the first to sit down.
“Like fuck am I going to spend the next few days clearing out the garage,” he mumbles through his teeth, and we all burst into laughter as if nothing had happened.
Because when you live with a bunch of nutcases like this, nothing really makes sense – apart from the fact that, today, there’s one more person sitting at this table of madmen. Someone who has kicked everything into high gear, sparked the fuse, and doused the flame with petrol, just to speed the process along.
And I can’t help but think that she was the only person missing from this crazy picture. The only thing that gives my life meaning.
23
Casey
I say goodbye to the family, after having survived that chaotic day, and I head towards my dad’s car that he’s kindly letting me use until mine is fixed. Luckily, Mrs Reynolds has her own car, so he didn’t have to drop me off. I open the door, but before I can get in, the O’Connors’ front door opens again, revealing the figure of Dickhead Number One.
I can’t be bothered to talk to him. I’m tired and I just want to go home. I’ve eaten way too much, and I just need to lie down and wait for the storm in my stomach to subside; but if I just leave like this, he’ll think he has some kind of power over me, that his presence intimidates me. So I close the driver door and lean against it, waiting for him to approach me.
Nick meanders slowly down the driveway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His face tells me that he has no idea where to start.
“I thought you’d have escaped by now,” he says, less certain than he wants to come across.
“I could’ve. I’m still faster than you.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says, his mouth curling into a smile.
“You’re starting to get too old for these things, Nick.”
“Not for everything,” he says suggestively, lighting a fire on my skin just by the intensity of his gaze.
“I’ll prove it to you right now if you like. I could wipe the floor with you, O’Connor.”
I’m provoking him, even though I know it could be a step too far – but I can’t help it. Nick brings out everything in me. He brings me out into the open, and that’s why he’s so dangerous.
He knows full well who I am. But I know who he is, too.
“Even if that’s true, I know where you live. And now I know that your dad’s gun can’t kill me, I can turn up at your door at any moment.”
“My dad could break your legs even without a gun.”
“I don’t need them anymore anyway.”
I look at him, one eyebrow raised.
“I’m done with sport.”
“Modelling pays better, does it?”
“I’m done with that, too.”
“How come? Were your arse cheeks starting to droop?”
His smile grows wider.
My God. Don’t do it. Don’t stare at his lips. Don’t think about them. Don’t fantasize about them.
Those lips have nothing to do with you.
“My arse is just fine. And I think you know that already.”
“Well, you shouldn’t believe all the articles you read. We both know that PhotoShop can work miracles.”
“That’s not the case.”
“So why have you given it up?”
“I’m just not interested in it anymore.”
“Something else you’ve got bored of?”
“It was just time to stop.”
“Are you thinking of finally getting your head looked at?” I wind him up some more.
He shakes his head. “It’s time to get back what I left behind.”
I sigh, and it hurts.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Then don’t, especially not if you can’t finish what you started.”
“Touché.”
“I’d better go.”
“Please, just stay another minute.”
“I don’t see why I should.”
“Because I’m asking you.”
“And you always get everything you ask for, right?”
“Jesus, Casey. If only it were that simple.”
Hearing my name on his lips has always had the same effect. No one else can say it like that, as if the whole alphabet were hiding in those five letters, fusing together to make the sweetest, sexiest words in the world.
“Eight years, Nick. That’s a long time.”
“I know,” he says, sighing heavily.
“You left. You had another life, you made your choice. There’s nothing to explain. You made it perfectly clear at the time – and the fact that you didn’t feel the need to call even once in all that time made it even clearer.”
“I left everything behind, Casey.”
“It didn’t seem like you had anything.”
“I had everything that really mattered. But I was too stupid to realise at the time.”
“No offence, Nick, but I don’t think you’ve changed much since then. You’re still the same.”
“And I’m not enough.”
I sigh again, and it hurts even more.
“Nothing happened. You don’t have to justify yourself. What was it? Just a little fling. One night, a few too many drinks, and a friendship that became…too much.”
“That’s what you think?”
“That’s what you made me believe.”
“I didn’t want things to go that way. I never meant to just disappear like that.”
“But you did. You shut me out of your life. What were you scared of? Did you think that I wanted some sort of control over your life? That I would’ve been ready to stalk you, follow you around, demand something from you? I meant nothing to you then, and I mean even less to you now.”
“I’m not so sure about that anymore.”
“But I am. And, deep down, so are you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt the need to just disappear like you did.”
Nick looks down.
“Do you know what I see, Nick? I see your usual quick decision-making, throwing yourself into something and then not knowing how to drag yourself out of it. I see you wanting to have something just because you know you can’t.”
“Is that what you think?” He lifts his gaze and pins me down with his deep, blue eyes. “You think I can’t have it?”
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Jesus, Nick. You’ve ruined me. You’ve ruined every chance for me to have a relationship, to let a man make me feel anything; to long for something great, something unique.
You’ve ruined my expectations, my dreams.
You’ve ruined me, Nick. And you can’t fix me now.
“No,” I tell him. Because he left, taking with him all the joy in my life, all the laughter, all the good times. My damn heart.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night. The last night. Ever since I saw you at the hospital, it’s all I can think about. I’ve thought about it for years. I always think about it.”
Don’t do it, Nick. Don’t say things you’re going to regret. Don’t play around with stupid, naïve Casey.
“I haven’t thought about it for years.” I’m protecting myself. From him, and from me.
“So why do I think you’re lying to me?”
“Because it’s who you are: you can’t accept rejection. You can’t imagine not having your magical effect on women. But you know, Nick, not everyone wants a money-loaded celebrity, a star, a model, or whatever you are now.”
“So what does a woman like you want?”
I take a deep breath and decide to give him what he deserves. I hope it hurts him at least half as much as he’s hurt me.
“Maybe I don’t even know myself, but I’m certain about what I don’t want: I don’t want someone like you. A nomad, someone who prances around with no intention of laying his roots anywhere. Someone who disappears for eight years. Someone who tells you he’ll come back then leaves you waiting.”
I look him straight in the eyes and lie, like I’ve never lied before.
“I just don’t want you.”
24
Nick
After I say goodbye to my family, I get into my car, ready to go back to my apartment and forget about my conversation with Casey – and hopefully forget about the huge arsehole I made of myself.