Chapter 7
7
MALLORY
O f course I know it's stupid, but all Friday evening I imagine Brady meeting that other woman. How he kisses her. How he touches her. How he sleeps with her. And it's driving me crazy!
I'm fully aware that I'm overreacting. After all, I barely know him. It's not like we've had ten dates and I'm completely in love . There's absolutely no reason to feel hurt. Because this is just how dating works. You meet someone, maybe two or three times, and then decide if you like the person, if you want to see them again, if you want to take things further. We had one kiss. A spectacular kiss deserving an A-plus, but still, it's not like we've reached the point of no return.
Sure, I know some people end things even after first-time sex, but for me sex is so special that it would really devastate me, because I'd only sleep with a man if I really, really liked him.
As Carrie so aptly put it, I tend to get clingy, but this is crazy even by my standards.
Man, before I go completely nuts here, I pack my gym clothes and drive to the fitness center. Once there, I get on the treadmill. I start slowly, but quickly increase the speed because I need to exhaust myself enough to just fall into bed later and stop overthinking.
My music blocks out all ambient sounds, my pulse pounds in my ears, my breathing is labored, but my legs move faster and faster.
Don't think anymore. Don't think anymore. Don't think anymore.
And then suddenly Brady is standing in front of me.
It surprises me, but this time I don't stumble—I just keep running as we stare into each other's eyes. No idea how long this lasts; it feels like hours, but eventually he reaches for the controls and slowly reduces the speed until I'm just walking, until I stop completely.
Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, I stand there, my ears relieved when I remove my headphones.
"Hi," he says.
I say nothing, just stare at him. Why is he here? What about his sex marathon? Was the ex more of a ghost from the past than the wet dream come true?
"For two people who ended things yesterday, we see each other quite often," he jokes.
But even that doesn't get me to say anything. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't trust myself right now. I would either cry or scream, and I suspect neither would be a good idea.
"It was a mistake."
He looks at me disarmingly.
"What?" I croak.
"Ending things yesterday."
"Did you see her?"
"Yes."
"And then you realized she's not the right one after all?"
"Yes."
"Then, sweetheart , it wasn't a mistake to end it."
I get off the treadmill and march to the locker rooms. That worked out great. Now I'm completely exhausted and still thinking about him the whole time because he had the nerve to show up here today. I'm really a lucky girl. I'd like to speak to whoever's in charge of this. What is this? Bad karma? Did I step on someone powerful's toes?
This was really bad luck.
I step into the shower and wash off the sweat. My makeup is waterproof, but after this intense workout, it's been compromised too. I assess the damage after showering and decide that only removing it completely will help. Good thing I always carry wipes with me.
Afterward, I apply makeup again. Not too much since I'm just going home, but there's a chance I'll run into Brady again. And he shouldn't see me so unprotected. I need my armor and my camouflage.
When I'm done, I walk out, and of course he's standing by the door.
"I'm sorry," he says softly.
I sigh. "I'm sorry it didn't work out with your ex, but I clearly told you: I'm not a consolation prize. Now you know it doesn't work with her, and you want to try with me? That's just not it. That's not how I'm wired and it's not what I want."
"I made a mistake."
"And I believe in second chances, but some things are just not compatible."
He runs his hand through his short hair. "I'm not usually like this. Honestly."
I shrug. "But this is the only way I've known you, so I can't verify that statement."
"Then get to know me."
"I..." But I don't know what to say. "I'll think about it."
"Okay. Can I give you my number and you'll reach out when you have an answer?"
"Okay." I take my phone from my pocket and save his number. "I don't know how long I'll need to think, but I'd appreciate it if you'd wait and not try to influence my decision."
"Promise."
He gives me a slight smile, but I can't bring myself to smile back.
brADY
It's not a no. That means something, right? She could have rejected me outright, but she asked for time to think. I'm pretty sure that means something. It has to.
The two hours at the gym didn't help. I'm still just as confused as I was during my conversation with Mindy.
A daughter. That's the kind of thing that only happens in movies from the nineties. Not being told you've had a daughter for eight years, I mean. Daughters themselves still happen these days, of course.
But why didn't she tell me?
Well, in a way I can understand her. She was pregnant, probably uncertain, and a baby is expensive. She had to choose between her rich husband and a poor schmuck. Can you blame her for choosing the guy with money? I don't think so.
Maybe I should ask her if she knew from the beginning who the father was. But better not. If I found out she was having sex with both of us at the same time back then... Oh. I'm so stupid. Of course she was having sex with both of us simultaneously! Otherwise, he would never have believed the child was his for eight years!
Okay. Don't think about it anymore.
So it's possible she truly didn't know at first and then hoped the one with money was the father, simply because he could offer the child more. At least financially. The way Mindy talked about her husband, he probably couldn't offer the girl much emotionally. Neither of them has much family, and I have a way-too-large family full of people who would have showered the child— my child—with love. I see it with Orla's daughters. Don't they say it takes a village to raise a child? I'm not sure if a village of crazy Irish people is what they meant, but we're definitely enough to qualify as a village.
I run my hand over my head. Whew. A child.
I never wanted children. But of course I wouldn't be an ass—I would have been there for the girl. Will be there for her now. Kira.
I hope she likes me.
I smile at the thought because I'm already making arrangements. A stupid word, but becoming a father so suddenly isn't easy either. Usually you have nine months to prepare, though you'd certainly still feel it was all happening too fast.
Thirty-two years old and I feel like I urgently need to talk to an adult, which is why I call Orla. It will reinforce her belief that she's the boss of all of us, but if she has some good advice to offer, hopefully the others will forgive me.
"Uncle Brady!", Aoife squeals from my phone.
I can't help but, smile. "Hello, sweetie. How are you?"
"I had a bad dream."
"Oh no! Why's that?"
"Don't know. There were monsters under my bed."
"Did Mom chase them away?"
"Hmm." She doesn't sound convinced. "Can you come to chase them away?"
"It's a bit late now, don't you think?"
"But I won't be able to sleep otherwise."
"Who's on the phone?" I hear Orla's muffled voice.
"Uncle Brady is coming to chase away the monsters!"
Then I hear some rustling before Orla says: "Oh Brady, really? It would be absolutely fantastic if you could come chase away the monsters. Aoife clearly doesn't believe I'm a qualified monster hunter and has been making a fuss for the last hour and a half because she doesn't want to go back to bed. You'd be doing me a huge favor."
"Alright, I'll come over now." Thank God.
"Thank you! I owe you one."
"I'll remind you. See you soon."
* * *
I ring the doorbell at Orla's house. She lives in South San Francisco, which is less than half an hour from Palo Alto. When she opens the door, she looks exhausted. Aoife comes running down the hallway and throws herself into my arms. Her eyes are red from crying.
Orla just mouths the words: "Thank you."
I nod with a smile before carrying Aoife up the stairs to her room. I set her down at the doorway.
"Okay. You wait here while I check for monsters, alright?"
She nods seriously.
I step into the room and look around. Aoife is a little whirlwind, the type who says: Here I am, make room! Her bedroom reflects that. She's not a typical girl, or what was once considered typical for girls. No pink or purple anywhere in sight, though I'm well aware that it's completely stupid to reduce girls to pink.
Aoife is currently interested in science. She has a solar system hanging from her ceiling, and on her small desk sits a microscope that Thea gave her. She's Cameron's partner's best friend and founded a biotech company. Since Thea told her about it, Aoife has been fascinated by everything that holds the world together.
I look in the closet, in every drawer, check under the bed.
I turn to my little cousin. "No monsters."
"But maybe there are."
"Then we need anti-monster spray."
She looks at me with wide eyes. "Really?"
"Wait a second. I'll go get it."
I quickly go downstairs. Orla is sitting on the couch with her eyes closed.
"Is she in bed?"
"Almost. I need anti-monster spray."
I open the pantry where Orla keeps all sorts of stuff. I find a spray bottle, rinse it out before filling it with water.
"Where do you keep labels?"
"In the right drawer."
I open it, pull out a white sticker, write Anti-Monster Spray on it and stick it on the bottle. Orla watches me with amusement as I head back upstairs.
Aoife is waiting for me. I show her the bottle. "Here. This works against every kind of monster." I spray water under the bed and in the closet. "Monster-free."
She hesitantly enters her room. Then she looks at me with relief. "Monster-free."
She climbs into her bed and I place the bottle on her nightstand.
"If you see one, just spray it and it will disappear."
She yawns. "Okay, Uncle Brady."
I tuck her in, stroke her dark blonde hair. "Sleep tight, sweetie."
She closes her eyes and it doesn't take long before her breathing becomes steady. I stroke her head before turning off the light. Her night light casts stars on the wall.
Aoife doesn't like the door closed, so I leave it open as I go out and flop down on the couch next to my cousin.
"Is she asleep?"
"Yep. Uncle Brady is the top monster hunter." I laugh.
"Man, thank you. I'm so relieved I won't even tease you for that line." She grins. "I love them both dearly, but Aoife is really pushing my limits right now."
"She's a real firecracker."
"She doesn't get that from me."
I laugh. "Yeah, right."
She tries to punch me in the side, but she's too exhausted and drops her arm before making contact. "I wasn't a firecracker."
"That's true. You still are."
"Hit yourself for me, would you?"
"Hey, no violence."
"That doesn't apply to dumb cousins."
"They're both really cute."
"Lucky for them." She smiles lovingly. "Hey, why did you call in the first place?"
"I need advice, but if you're too exhausted..."
She sits up, turns toward me. "Of course not. Tell me."
"You know Mindy," I start, stroking my beard.
"Vaguely."
"I know you all thought it was a mistake, but I met with her today. I just had to because things felt so unresolved. I don't know. Anyway, I immediately sensed it wasn't right anymore, but then she told me she doesn't know where she and her daughter can go."
"And this is your problem because...?"
My fingers find the hem of my sweater, fidgeting with it. "She says the little girl is my daughter."
Orla's eyes widen. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah, I'm supposed to be her father, and that's also why her husband left her, because he just found out and kicked her out. Now he's refusing to support them financially, which is why she came to me."
"Wow, I can't believe it. You're obviously getting a paternity test."
"Of course, but she's pretty desperate. If there's a chance this girl is really mine, then I have to help them. Despite everything."
"Sure, but I can also imagine she just said that so you'd help her."
"I wouldn't rule that out either, believe me. But still."
Orla puts a hand on my arm. "You're just one of the good ones. So you offered her help."
It's not a question.
"I told her she could stay at my place. Now I just need to figure out where I'll sleep in the meantime."
"Not with her?"
"No way."
She smiles at me. "We have a guest room, if you want it."
"Really?"
Now she does hit me in the side. "That's not a serious question."
"Thank you."
"Though it's total chaos here twenty-four hours a day. Just so you know. Otherwise, Tara's in Chicago right now and wouldn't mind if you stayed at her apartment."
There's something in her face that makes me take notice. "Would it help you if I stayed here?"
She nods slowly. "Everything's overwhelming me right now. George isn't much help either because he's in Cleveland for a job and only here every other weekend. Usually the girls are with him two days after school. And that's what's missing."
"Why haven't you told anyone you needed help? There are plenty of us around. Aunt Bridget would probably be thrilled to see her granddaughters more often."
She rubs her nose. "I didn't want anyone to think I was weak."
"That's nonsense! Everyone knows you're Superwoman. And what's the point of having such a big family if you don't take advantage of it in cases like this?" I squeeze her hand. "But if I can stay here, I'd be very happy to help you."
"Thank you."
I shake my head. "O'Brien women are crazy."
"Hey, that applies to all O'Briens equally." She rests her head on my shoulder. "You're really a knight in shining armor."
I press my cheek against her head. "And you're impossible for not telling me sooner that you needed me."
When she doesn't answer, I know she's fallen asleep.
I shake my head, amused. Why is it so hard for her to ask for help? She's always there for all of us. Sometimes it's tough love , but she would give her left arm to help any of us. We would do the same for her. And I'll make sure she gets the support she needs right now.
Carefully, I lay her on the couch, cover her up before I drive home, realizing that I didn't really ask a question and Orla didn't really give me any advice.
Maybe spending more time with Aoife and Róisín isn't such a bad idea; I can practice for Kira.