Chapter 25 Commiseration
COMMISERATION
LANEY
Icouldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. When I’d woken this morning, it was to an empty bed and house. My erstwhile husband and his sister were gone, and I was left to spend the day on my own unpacking, exploring the neighborhood of Charlestown, and doing my best not to text Ronan.
At two-thirty, I lost the battle. At two-forty-five, I tried to flirt. And then had done everything I could think of to avoid checking my phone for the response that would not come.
Perhaps we’ll pick up where we left off, husband.
“Pathetic.” I pawed through one of Ronan’s cabinets, looking for tea to go with a book I’d found in the living room.
If I hadn’t known he was a bachelor, Ronan’s kitchen would have given it away.
His fridge was full of bottled water, cold-brewed coffee, and pre-portioned meals delivered by a service once a week.
He owned exactly four spices (salt, pepper, cayenne, and an unopened bottle of garam masala), but kept a shelf full of supplements (including three types of protein powder).
Even the closet we were supposed to share held only a week or so’s worth of simple yet quality clothing meant for the office (suits) or the gym.
I found myself wondering if Ronan did anything else with his time.
At least I knew he read. There was no shortage of materials for that.
“Well, you definitely don’t go to the grocery store,” I muttered. “Ah, chamomile. You’ll do.”
He didn’t actually own a teakettle, so I put on a saucepan of water to boil, then sat at the small kitchen table to sift through the resumes Ronan’s assistant, Ruth, had sent over to replace me as the creative director of Meráki.
Who needed to flirt when I could work, right?
I was just getting into the third application when the bell for the intercom went off.
I frowned. According to Ronan, none of his family members had this address besides Shea. Had she forgotten something this morning when they left?
I went to the front door and went through the somewhat onerous process of turning off the security system. When I opened it, however, it wasn’t Shea standing on the front stoop, but a pretty blond woman whom I vaguely remembered from last night.
“Delaney?” she asked.
“Laney, yeah. And you are?”
“Hi, I’m Simone.” The woman patted her chest over the white eyelet dress she was wearing. “Brendan’s girlfriend. We didn’t get to meet properly last night with all the fuss, and Brendan kind of turns into a pumpkin after eleven, so we left early.”
I blinked. “Oh. Oh, right. Hi, yes, come on in. Does, um, your companion want to join us?”
I gestured beyond her, where a large man was standing with his hands folded as he surveyed the street.
Simone shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s just Robbie. Brendan’s a little worried after what happened last month, so he sends Robbie with me when he can’t come. He prefers to stay outside guarding the door.”
I stood aside while she entered the house, a paper bag-covered object tucked under one arm. “How, um, did you get this address? Ronan doesn’t give it out to his family members.”
It was a weird thing to admit, and I wondered if I’d crossed a line by saying it. There were a lot of things Ronan and I hadn’t actually discussed yet, I was starting to realize.
Simone looked around with undisguised curiosity as she followed me into the small living room.
“Shea told me. I mentioned this morning that I wanted to meet you, and she gave me the address so I could bring you this, but only if I promised not to tell anyone else about it.” She handed me the bag.
“Something about getting back at her brother for a bad night’s sleep? ”
I turned my attention to the bag, which held a delicious-looking loaf of fresh bread, before she could see me blush and counted to ten before I set the bread on a console and turned back. “Thank you, this looks amazing. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. I just came to commiserate, I suppose.
” Simone was still too busy looking to notice my discomfort.
“When I found out that Ronan of all people had gotten married, I had to meet you, if just to let you know you’re not alone.
” She walked up to a large shelf bearing Ronan’s extensive philosophy collection and dragged a finger over the spines of the collected words of Heidegger. “Has he actually read all of these?”
“He says so, but who knows?” I wouldn’t have been surprised. The man quoted ancient works like Wikipedia, and in a very un-bachelor-like move, Ronan didn’t have a television. A mind like his needed something to keep it occupied.
“Huh. Everyone’s got secrets.”
“Or at least a hobby.”
“True.” She took a seat on one of the leather chairs near the fireplace. “I’m a baker myself. And Brendan likes birds.”
I grabbed my tea and sat in the other chair to face her. “Birds?”
Granted, I hadn’t actually spoken to the stern, imposing man who hadn’t given a toast of thanks, had barely spoken to anyone, and hadn’t smiled once except at Simone. Overall, he reminded me of a rain cloud—the complete opposite of the sunshine his girlfriend embodied.
“Birds,” she confirmed. “He’s crazy about them. Spends hours every day hiking through the woods to track them down. Takes my niece with him on Sundays. Have you ever watched a six-foot-three giant make warbler sounds with a four-year-old? It’s freaking adorable.”
I had no idea what to say. Adorable wasn’t a word I would use to describe Brendan Black any more than I could imagine him or any of his very urbane siblings on a farm.
“My point is that the Black family can and probably will surprise you,” she went on. “I’m not saying I like any of them—I don’t, truthfully, and they don’t like me either. So far as they know me, anyway.”
That genuinely surprised me. “They don’t like you?” I didn’t know her, but Simone exuded warmth, kindness, and safety that anyone would enjoy, or at least trust.
Simone gave an oddly sad shrug. “Doesn’t seem that way.”
“Even Ronan?” Somehow, I already knew the answer.
Again, that odd shrug.
Now I was frowning. “He’s never said a bad word about you to me.”
What could Ronan possibly have against this sweet girl? From what I understood, Simone had only met Brendan a few months ago, and like me, she hadn’t spent much quality time with Brendan’s family. In fact, hiding their significant others seemed to be something the brothers had in common.
Simone tucked a loose strand of blond behind her ear. “I didn’t come here to badmouth your husband. And as much as I love Brendan, I doubt he would have been any nicer to you if you had come along first.”
Now I was even more confused. “But… why?”
“How much time have you spent with Niall Black?”
“I just met him last night.”
Ronan’s father had been, in a word, terrifying. He was the polar opposite of my father, who was about as mild-mannered as it got—soft-spoken, nonconfrontational, eager to please. Even as an octogenarian, Niall Black was basically the human equivalent of a hammer. He came down hard and ruthless.
I had never felt as insignificant and small as when he interrogated me and I left only with the comment about my mother’s necklace. Nothing else about me had mattered.
“Has Ronan told you anything about how they grew up?”
I shook my head. I figured it wasn’t worth hiding, since everyone knew we had just met.
Simone didn’t seem surprised. “They weren’t always this rich. When the boys were young, that was when Niall was getting the business started in Southie, back when it wasn’t so nice. Brendan has only shared bits and pieces. It’s hard for him to talk about.”
“I don’t know if Ronan remembers much. He was young when they left, right?”
Simone shook her head. “Not that young. They lived there until Niall met Violeta and shipped the boys off to boarding school. Brendan was twelve, I think? Maybe older. So Ronan would have been, what, eight? They had plenty of money by that point, but he kept them in the old neighborhood on purpose. To harden them up, Brendan says.”
“By what, exposure?”
“And survival.” Simone rubbed her mouth, thinking.
After a few moments, she seemed to have come to a decision.
“Brendan told me a story once about when the boys were children, and Niall had to go away on business. Instead of bringing them or hiring a babysitter or someone to take care of them, he left them at the house with a twenty on the table and told them to fight it out for whoever would get to eat a full meal. Everyone else had to eat expired cereal and water.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s child abuse!”
“That’s parenting, Niall Black-style. He made them fight for everything. Brendan says that’s why Ronan is so good at it—as the youngest of the boys, he had to be tough enough to survive the other two.”
“Who won?” I couldn’t help but wonder.
For a split-second, I could imagine all three Black brothers as children: tall for their age, probably a bit skinny from neglect, with a knowing and intensity that no one should have at any point in time.
I found myself blinking away a tear. That bastard.
“You know, I never asked,” Simone said. “It didn’t seem important.”
“No, I suppose it’s not.”
“But that’s why I think all the Black children are basically just wounded animals.
They lash out because they perceive change as a threat, and love and vulnerability as a danger.
God knows they were all punished for it often enough.
” She shook her head. “Between you and me, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Niall for what he’s done to Brendan. That man is beyond saving.”
As little as I knew her, I sensed that was quite a line for Simone to cross. She seemed like a person who believed in silver linings, who genuinely wanted to see the best in people, even when they were at their worst. For her to write someone off like that, it had to be bad.
Or else she and Brendan really did love each other as much as people said. I got a glimmer of just why Brendan Black had thrown away the luxury and privilege of his life for a chance at happiness with Simone. No one had ever given him the safe space to be who he really was, birds and all.
Had anyone given that to Ronan? Or had he just taken it for himself in the form of self-medication, books, and a house where no one could find him?
I glanced at my phone, which still lay silent on the coffee table.
Maybe I didn’t need to be so hard on him for not answering my silly little texts.
Maybe, like me, he wasn’t good at flirting either.
No, that was wrong. He was very good at flirting—he did it with me every chance he got, to the point where I doubted it meant much to him at all.
Maybe it was the opposite problem, then. Maybe it was that when words actually meant something, he didn’t know what to do with them. So, even though he used the word “wife” like a costume he had me try on, “husband” meant something to me, lighthearted or not.
Ronan, quick as he was, undoubtedly knew it. Maybe that explained the sudden silence.
“Anyway.” Simone stood, ready to leave almost as quickly as she had come.
“I didn’t mean to impose. Brendan just had a quick meeting with his realtor to sell his apartment, and I wanted to take a second before we left to say hello.
Let you know that if you ever need to talk to someone about…
what it’s like… I’m just a phone call away. ”
“Are you leaving Boston so soon?” I found myself wishing she could stay just long enough for me to get my thoughts together and come up with the questions I knew I would have.
But Simone was shaking her head as she went for the door.
“No, we have to get back. Chores to do. Bread to bake. Birds to find.” She slipped me a piece of paper with her number scratched on it along with an address in Vermont.
“But we’ll be back for the reception, I’m sure.
In the meantime, come visit if you want. My door’s always open.”
“Thanks.” I fingered the paper. “I just might do that.” If only out of morbid curiosity and the desire to see one of Ronan’s siblings milking a cow. “Wait.”
Simone stopped, the door open, with a kind smile. “Yes?”
I bit my lower lip, thinking. “Any advice for someone new to all of this? The family, or maybe the life they inhabit?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m the best role model for blending into their world, but…
” Simone tapped her lip, thinking. Then she nodded.
“I’d say it’s easy to get sucked into everything they’ll ask of you.
Ronan is supposed to be the new face of the company, which means you’ll be the face of his personal life.
It will feel easy to lose yourself in that, so I would tell you to carve out time for self-care.
Identify the things that calm you down and bring you peace. And don’t let go of them for anything.”
“And if they won’t let me do that?”
She looked a bit sad at the idea. “Again, I might be the wrong person to ask. I wouldn’t let go, and I ended up taking their son with me. I don’t know if Niall would let that happen again.”
“Maybe it’s not his choice,” I said impulsively. Almost protectively.
Oddly, it wasn’t the idea of anyone holding me back that bothered me so much. I had come here of my own accord, already drifting in a life that had seemed aimless since Mom’s death. For want of a better direction, this one seemed to work.
But Ronan wasn’t like that. He actually seemed to know what he wanted separately from his family, whether it was a private world of books or the right to marry whom he wanted, when he wanted, regardless of his father’s approval.
I bristled at the idea of anyone trying to take one bit of it away from him.
Simone eyed me a bit more curiously, and her smile was touched by melancholia and hope. “Maybe. I hope not.” She leaned in to give me a squeeze, and I found myself hugging her back. “Goodbye, Laney. And good luck.”