Chapter 21
21
MALLORY
T aking stock: Mallory Callahan, thirty-one. Two best friends, Carrie and Tina, whom I meet once a week and sometimes on weekends if we feel like it. One best Grandma, whom I visit at least once a month. One best cooking class that doesn't make me any less of a disaster in the kitchen, but makes me laugh every week. We shop together, prepare the meals, agree every time that my food doesn't taste good at all, drink plenty of alcohol, and laugh our heads off.
How long has it been since I've done that? Since I was so happy that I laughed out loud? And I don't mean a restrained haha, but a laugh that makes your stomach hurt afterward.
But continuing my inventory: One best boss, who has realized that we need to hire someone else so I can finish work at six every day. One best job, which no longer just involves the tasks of an assistant, but has also given me the press department. And one best gym that I now regularly…ier visit. I can't really motivate myself that often. One best cinema, because every Tuesday I go with Annabel from the cooking class to see the Marvel movies that are shown there. And one best brother, who Skypes me twice a week to tell me how Gustavo is doing. And it's absolutely mean to say, but this is my absolute favorite soap opera.
When Gustavo appeared in the video chat one day, I squealed so loudly that all the sirens in the neighborhood went off. Almost. Of course Neil was terribly embarrassed, but I didn't care because I was just so happy that after all the back and forth, the two of them are finally a couple.
This Friday evening, I'm sitting on my couch in my living room, listening to a violin concerto. It's from that iconic movie Cinema Paradiso . Carrie gave me the soundtrack because she found it so beautiful. But I found a version on the internet that I like even better. By a violinist from San Francisco. Tara O'Brien. And maybe that name made me think of Brady.
But today I have my eyes closed and am enjoying this moment.
When you're lonely, every second you spend alone is torture, only reminding you of what you're missing.
When your own life is filled with people and laughter and great moments, then even alone you're never lonely.
Gran was right—of course!
You can't put your own happiness on someone else's shoulders. It doesn't work and isn't fair either. Because we are all only responsible for ourselves. Unless you have children, then for them too, but no one is responsible for another person's happiness. You can make someone happier because you're there, but you can't be fully responsible for their happiness.
Am I happy? This question suddenly occurs to me.
Maybe not completely yet, but it's coming. It's actually going to be really good.
Yes, this is definitely a version of happiness. It shows me that I have it in my own hands. Even if it sounds clichéd, but you are the architect of your own happiness. It just took forever for me to realize that. But now I can't unsee it.
And that's why I can't wait for New Year's Eve.
brADY
On Sunday, Eoin, Cian, and I go hiking with the kids. Though I use the term hiking loosely. Kids don't understand the concept of brisk walking, because at every corner they have to look at something, at every second intersection they need to use the bathroom, and at every third one they ask if we're nearly there yet. They don't want to accept that the journey is the destination, which is why Eoin simply announces that the destination is the old boathouse a few kilometers away.
After that, they no longer ask if they're almost there, but focus on reaching the end. They still need to use the bathroom constantly. And pick up acorns just as often.
Suddenly Kira stumbles and falls. I'm at her side immediately, checking her knee. She's bleeding, but it's not bad.
She begins, to cry. "It hurts so much, Dad," she whimpers.
I freeze.
Did she just call me Dad ?
"What?" I ask, confused because suddenly so many emotions are washing over me.
"It hurts so much," she repeats.
"Did you... did you say Dad?" I ask, almost reverently.
"Should I not?" she asks fearfully with tears in her eyes.
"No, you should, if you want to."
She looks at me with relief and I pull her into my arms.
"It's an absolute honor to be your Dad, mo leanbh ," I whisper in her ear.
She cuddles against me. "It still hurts."
Oh right. Completely forgot that we need to address the medical situation here. I take the first aid kit from my backpack. Eoin and Cian look at me in horror. They don't understand either. Kids get hurt all the time, which is why you always need bandages.
I clean the wound with a spray before putting on a bandaid. With Elsa on it.
"Dude..." says Cian once he's found his voice again.
"Oh, shut up."
"Ha, Uncle Brady said shut up !" Aoife shrieks laughing.
I roll my eyes. No one is as gleeful as a child who can tattle on someone. "Is it better now?" I ask Kira.
She nods. I help her up and she tests her leg. "All okay."
"Good."
For a few minutes she holds my hand before running after Aoife again.
Cian shakes his head.
"Leave it," I reply, a bit embarrassed. Papa bear is in the house, I know.
"Dude," his brother Eoin now says before laughing. "That girl is turning you into a softie."
I run my hand through my short hair. "Absolutely she is."
I quickly count the children before looking around for Róisín. She's fallen behind a bit, so I wait for her. "Everything okay, little one?" I ask when she reaches me. I hold out my hand, which she takes.
She nods, but doesn't look like it.
"You can always tell me if something's bothering you."
She struggles with herself before blurting out: "Everyone likes Aoife better than me." And then she starts crying.
I pull her into my arms, and she buries her face against my stomach. "Sweetheart, that's absolutely not true."
"But Kira likes her better."
I can't deny that, since my daughter told me that she finds Róisín boring, but I'm certainly not going to point that out to her. "There will always be people who prefer Aoife, and always people who prefer you."
"Nobody prefers me."
I know I shouldn't say it—it's absolutely clear to me that it will only get me into hot water—but she looks so desperate that I whisper in her ear: "I prefer you."
She looks up. "Really?"
"Really. But keep that to yourself, because you're not supposed to say things like that."
I wink at her.
And it's true, I realize. Aoife is the one who seems more open and fun and lovable at first glance, but it's Róisín with her quiet, loving manner, who always holds back, that I prefer. Even though it's terrible to say something like that, and I would always deny it if someone ever asked me.
"Okay," she says with a smile.
"But why aren't you playing with the two of them? Tag, or whatever they're playing?"
"I'm not as fast as they are," she admits.
"I bet you can run super fast."
"I can't."
"But I'll bet an ice cream on it. If you're the first to reach Cian, I'll buy you a huge ice cream. And if I'm first to reach Cian, you have to buy me a huge ice cream. Deal?"
I hold out my hand to her.
She grins and shakes on it.
I draw a starting line with the heel of my shoe, behind which we line up. "On your mark, get set, go!"
Any other child would have already started running, but Róisín waits and follows the rules.
But when she finally runs, she really runs. Though I can see what she means. It's more difficult for her. The serious illness has left her weaker than her sister, who's two years younger. Still, she's absolutely not slow.
"Cian!" I call out as we're almost there.
He turns around in surprise before catching Róisín, who beats me. Just barely. Laughing, he spins her in a circle while she beams because she won. This child is an absolute treasure.
"Wow, you really ran," I comment. "This is going to be expensive for me."
"You don't have to..." she begins.
"A bet's a bet, so start thinking about which flavors you want."
She grins. Happy and carefree, just how I want to see her from now on.
Cian carries her a bit longer before setting her down. When we finally reach the boathouse, the kids are so infinitely tired, as they assure me, that I call Finn, who picks us up in Orla's car. I hardly even notice that Aoife and Kira high-five each other because they've pulled one over on me.
* * *
Before we drive home, I leave Kira in the care of my family and go for ice cream with Róisín. Just her and me, and the biggest ice cream I've ever seen.
She grins at me as I place it in front of her. "Wow, that's huge!"
"You won't be able to finish it all by yourself."
"Yes, of course I will!"
But she doesn't mind when I help her. And then she leans back in her chair. "I can't eat anymore."
"Looks like your eyes were bigger than your stomach, huh?"
She nods. "Definitely."
"Alright, let me get two more ice creams for the rascals, and then we'll head back."
Róisín is obviously in a sugar coma, because she just smiles blissfully. But I'm glad that she looks happy. She really deserves it.
* * *
In the evening, I tuck Kira into bed. Next weekend, the last one before Christmas, we're finally moving into a different apartment. One where we both have our own rooms.
"Did you enjoy the weekend?" I ask her as I tuck in the blanket.
"Yes, very much."
"And everyone liked you after all?"
"Yes." She looks at me. "You talked a lot with Róisín."
"Because she's my little cousin."
"But she's boring."
I brush the hair from Kira's face. "Róisín was very sick for a long time. That made her quieter, because she was busy trying to get well again."
"Oh. Is she healthy now?"
"Yes, she is. But something like that shapes a person."
"What does that mean?"
"Our experiences change us. They change how we see the world, make us stronger or sometimes weaker."
"Hm. So it's not her fault?"
"No, it's not."
"Will she change again?"
"That's possible, but maybe this is just how she is now. People are different. But she's a very sweet girl. She's definitely not boring once you get to know her."
"Hm." She thinks for a moment. "But she doesn't like the same things I do. She reads and draws and does crafts. She doesn't run around and stuff."
"But you draw sometimes too."
"Yes, but I prefer running."
"That's okay too." I smile at her. "I'm not saying you have to be friends with her, but I'd appreciate it if you'd give her a chance."
"I'll think about it."
I kiss her on the forehead. "Alright. Sleep well and sweet dreams."
I slowly get up, turn off the main light, and turn on her night light.
"Dad?"
"Hm?" I ask from the doorway, my chest swelling with pride.
"Do you love me?"
"More than anything else."
"Good."
I quietly close the door behind me. This child holds my heart in her hands.
MALLORY
"Whatever happened to your seduction skills?" I ask Tina when my two friends are over at my place the week before Christmas.
"Let's not talk about it," says Tina.
"Oh, that bad?" I ask.
"Hmm, no."
Carrie grins. "Ah. A lady enjoys and keeps quiet."
"Something like that." She grins.
"Did he take you from behind?"
As always, Carrie doesn't mince words.
"Maybe." Tina blushes.
I grin at her. "Oh la la. Sexy times ."
"Very funny. But it's true. Joe was pretty taken with my little show, and when I whispered in his ear that I'd like it from behind, he was immediately on fire. Afterward, we talked about it, and he said he'd really like to experiment more in the bedroom, but he didn't want to push anything on me because he thought I was satisfied as things were."
"Just goes to show that communication is everything." Carrie looks at me. "Speaking of which... You look absolutely fantastic."
I blush, and since I'm not wearing makeup, my birthmark is actually visible. "I don't know how we got to this topic, but thanks."
Tina strokes my cheek. "I've never seen such rosy cheeks on you before."
"They were always hidden under a pound of makeup," Carrie remarks.
"Unfortunately true," I admit.
"Why did you never show us what was underneath?" asks my tactless friend, and I don't mean Tina.
"Because it's not so pretty."
Never in my life have I seen Tina as angry as in this moment when she stands up in front of me. "Not so pretty? Are you out of your mind? You're so damn beautiful that I'm nearly blinded."
"Well," I dismiss it.
She grabs my shoulders, looking at me seriously. "I never want to hear that from you again, is that clear? You, my dear, are absolutely enchanting, every single bit of you."
"Even this pimple here?" I joke, pointing at the bump next to my mouth.
"Even that. You will never put yourself down like that again. Do you understand?"
"Fine."
"She's right," Carrie explains while pouring us more wine. "I don't want to hear that shit anymore either. Wow, you have a port-wine stain. So what? I have a mole shaped like Australia on my thigh. Ha! You're not that special." She grins at me before handing me a glass.
"But mine is on my face."
"Fine, you win. You have the coolest feature of all of us." She laughs as she clinks her glass with mine. "To you. The stunning Mallory Callahan."
Tina also clinks her glass with mine. "To you. The enchanting Mallory Callahan."
They both look at me expectantly. I roll my eyes before saying, "To me. The beautiful Mallory Callahan."
"Yes, girl! I'll drink to that!" Carrie takes a big sip. "Now, show us how to make these spring rolls. I'm hungry already."
With rosy cheeks, I explain: "It's actually quite simple. You take this wrapper here, put the vegetables and noodles on top, then fold it over here in front, fold the sides in as well, and then you roll... Oh."
Carrie cracks up when it doesn't work. But I managed to do it well in the cooking class just two days ago. Not as well as the others, but still pretty good. Really.
Tina also tries to hide a grin. "Oh Mallory. You may be the beautiful Mallory Callahan, but you'll never be the good cook Mallory."
"Damn it! I really could do it. Let me try again."
But instead of making perfect rolls, after the third attempt we start laughing uncontrollably, and then order pizza.
My plan B should never be becoming a chef. Not a chance.