Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Fin looked at the Claddagh ring in his palm as the plane levelled out.
It was dull under the dimmed cabin lights but its symbolism was as shiny as ever.
The seat next to him was empty because Sweeney should have been sitting in it.
The space yawned like a chasm between him and the person sitting on the aisle.
Which is kind of how it felt inside right now. A gnawing, yawning empty.
Everyone had been surprised when they’d learned about Sweeney’s early departure and had wanted to talk to him about it all fucking day even though they’d known she was waiting for the green light from her boss to go to Indonesia.
He’d been trying not to think about it.
Trying not to think about how badly the big empty pit in his stomach ached. How much worse it felt than any split he’d had with a woman. Which was crazy because he and Sweeney were fake.
Pretend. She’d said it herself.
The thing was, it hadn’t felt pretend, and Fin didn’t think she’d really thought that either.
The care and comfort of each other certainly hadn’t because there’d always been that and those moments had felt as genuine as always.
But there’d been an extra something during their interactions since this whole farce had begun, a connection that had felt different to friendship.
And it was that connection that had pushed them into each other’s arms. Forever altering their relationship.
The terrible panicky sensation he’d been pushing down all day floated to the top again. What would become of them now they’d seen each other naked? Now he’d been inside her. Now she’d wrapped herself around him and whispered yes, yes, yes in his ear as he came his brains out.
Because he didn’t want to lose her from his life.
And yet, he knew, it could never go back to the way it was before last night. They’d let the genie out of the bottle on that one.
Behind him, he could just hear the chatter of kids over the white noise of the cabin. They’d had a truly amazing experience and had much to tell their friends when they got back to school on Tuesday, but they were going to sleep well tonight when they finally got into their own beds.
So would the adults!
Their voices, their accents, were so familiar and he found himself smiling.
He’d missed the Aussie twang. The Irish brogue—so very, very different—was endlessly fascinating, but hearing a cacophony of kids over the course of the weekend—shortening words and lengthening their vowels and ending their sentences with but or giving it that little lift at the end that made it sound like a question even when it wasn’t—had been like music to his ears.
Music that was embedded in his DNA.
He’d missed the comfort of a familiar tongue.
The way it clicked inside, like a square peg going into a square hole.
Like slipping into the arms of a favourite, well-worn t-shirt all soft and stretchy from age and multiple spin cycles.
Ireland had been perfect for what he’d needed two years ago, but now that he’d read his father’s letter and confronted the emotional baggage of that time, maybe it was time to return to Australia?
He was clearly homesick. But he hadn’t been prior to the Gold Coast. Had he? Maybe being back was having a cumulative effect? Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe this … restlessness was a symptom of something deeper?
Sighing heavily, he closed his fingers around the ring and pocketed it.
It had been an exhausting weekend—game wise and giant fuck-off bed wise—and he was utterly spent.
There was no point trying to figure out any of this now—Sweeney or his sudden bout of homesickness.
They weren’t issues he could solve on a two-hour flight.
They were the kind of issues he probably needed to talk about, but the person he wanted to talk about them with had just buggered off to Indonesia and who knew where after that.
Then, as if his cousin had peered inside his head from twelve rows back and discerned Fin’s mental gymnastics, Donny appeared, squeezing past the person in the aisle seat and plonking his ass down.
‘You okay, dude? You missing Sweeney?’
Which made the hundredth time today someone had asked him that question. ‘Absolutely,’ he replied, the only answer a loving fiancé could give.
Despite his sudden hankering for home, Fin suddenly couldn’t wait to be flying away from their mothers’ shit show of a lie.
‘I still can’t believe you two are a thing.’
Fin shot his cousin a derisive smile. ‘Took us by surprise as well.’
‘What a weekend, huh?’ Donny shook his head, clearly moving on.
‘Yeah.’ Fin smiled. ‘It was an amazing experience. Thanks to Mai. She was the true driving force behind all this.’
Donny smiled smugly. ‘I’m a lucky guy.’
He had no idea. ‘Yeah.’ Fin sobered, suddenly envious of his cousin’s unremarkable suburban life. ‘Don’t screw it up.’
Frowning, Donny stared quizzically at Fin. ‘Is there something up with you?’
‘I’m fine,’ Fin dismissed, forcing a smile. ‘Just tired.’
Donny didn’t say anything for long moments, just regarded Fin with a serious expression. ‘You know you can talk to me, right?’
Fin blinked. Donny had perfected the class clown persona in primary school and hadn’t truly relinquished the red nose and floppy shoes, so this was a turnaround.
He didn’t know what was stranger—his cousin so earnest or the fact he was actually contemplating confiding in him.
Not about the Sweeney stuff but maybe about the other.
‘Okay, who are you and what have you done with Donny?’
‘What? I can be serious.’
Fin narrowed his eyes in faux suspicion. ‘Donny?’ he said, grasping his cousin by the arms and giving him a shake. ‘Donny? If you’re in there, blink twice.’
Donny rolled his eyes and went one better. Two, actually, as he flipped Fin both his middle fingers. ‘I have depths,’ he protested.
Fin almost laughed out loud. Donny was as deep as a puddle.
‘They’re just …’ Donny shrugged. ‘Unplumbed.’
Unplumbed? Unhinged, more like it. But, sighing, Fin decided to give his cousin the benefit of the doubt. He stared out the window for a beat before he returned his attention to Donny. ‘I’m thinking of … moving back home.’
Donny’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline. ‘To your mother’s?’
‘No.’ Fin rolled his eyes. ‘To Australia. Melbourne maybe?’
A big grin split across his cousin’s face. ‘Melbourne? Yeah?’
Fin laughed at the barely concealed glee in his expression. ‘Maybe,’ he said noncommitally, in case Donny got all gungho and CafePressed the shit out of an entire range of we’re getting the gang back together merch.
‘Why?’
‘I think my itchy feet aren’t so itchy anymore.’
He nodded. ‘What would you do?’
‘I can easily get a job.’ He still had contacts in the finance sector in Melbourne but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. His dad had been right about it being superficial. ‘But … I’m thinking I want to try something completely different.’
‘Like?’
‘I … don’t know.’ And that was the truth. Suddenly, Fin was standing at a crossroads where he couldn’t see anything in any direction.
‘What’s Sweeney say?’
Christ, Sweeney. In the continuing saga of the fake fiancé scenario, of course they would have had conversations about this.
‘I haven’t really raised the issue yet.’ Which was another truth and, given how much they’d lied lately, it was good to be honest where he could.
‘I’m still kicking it around for myself. ’
‘Okay, well … don’t forget she left Ballyshannon like a bat out of hell the second she could and didn’t really look back.’
And now Fin knew why. ‘It won’t be there,’ Fin reiterated.
‘But if it’s Melbourne, then you won’t be far away. Take it from a guy who knows what side his bread is buttered on. Happy wife, happy life.’
It wasn’t exactly Proust but it was salient so Fin had to give him that.
Or he would have, anyway, if he wasn’t so hung up on the whole wife word.
He swore he could feel the Claddagh ring burning a hole in his pocket.
It might not be a big word but those four letters sure packed a hell of a wallop.
Like another four-letter word starting with L.
‘Your mamma,’ Donny added, ‘is going to throw a party.’
Fin groaned. The last party his mother threw hadn’t turned out so well for him. He was avoiding another one at all costs.
‘If it counts,’ Donny said with a sly grin, ‘I vote for you coming back.’
Fin snorted. ‘It doesn’t.’ But he returned the grin. ‘Thanks, though, for … listening. I didn’t think you had it in you.’
Donny double-tapped his chest with the side of his fist. ‘What can I say?’ He sighed dramatically. ‘Not all heroes wear capes.’
Fin rolled his eyes. ‘You and your superhero fetish.’
‘Hey, those suits are cool.’
‘Please, you just want to wear your jocks on the outside.’
Donny winked. ‘Who doesn’t?’
*
Fin was no closer to solving anything as he climbed off the bus that had transported them from Tullamarine to Ballyshannon, but the idea of making the big move had crystallised further.
It put a spring in his step as he exited the bus into the cool, misty night.
The same could not be said for the kids.
It was close to midnight and they weren’t so chipper now, having all crashed on the trip and been rudely awakened.
The less sleepy kids on his team managed to fist bump him as they walked past, but it was lacking in enthusiasm. Winnie and her grandparents were almost last off the bus.
‘What do you say to Fin?’ her grandmother prompted after they’d both clutched him in tight, grateful bear hugs.
Winnie smiled at him shyly as she signed, ‘Thank you.’
Fin returned her smile and repeated her sign. ‘Thank you. You’—he pointed at her—‘made me very proud.’
And in the chilly, damp night it was as if the damn sun had come out as Winnie threw her arms around Fin’s waist and hugged him tight.