40. Kieran
KIERAN
The next morning is just as awkward and weird as I suspected it would be.
When I show up at the coffee shop in time for my shift, Zara and Audrey are there. They both seem to pounce on me. “Kieran! You didn’t have to come in today,” Zara cries.
“Sit, sit,” Audrey says, waving me toward a table.
“Hey, I’m fine,” I insist. “And I quit my job at the ad agency yesterday, so I wasn’t about to lose these hours. I’ll probably have to find another afternoon job now.”
“Don’t worry about any of that yet,” Zara says. “How’s your dad?”
“According to my text messages, he slept all night. I’ll go see him later.”
Roderick emerges from behind the counter to set a plate down in front of me. I look down to find a fresh bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon. He gives me a wink and heads back to the counter without a word.
Audrey and Zara watch me with big eyes.
“What?” I ask, uncomfortable with their attention.
“Nothing,” they chorus.
“Uh-huh,” I grunt. “Go on. Ask your questions.”
Audrey puts on her best who me face. “I’m not nosy.”
“You are the nosiest person I’ve ever met,” I counter.
“Well, I try to rein it in,” she says with a sniff. “But Zara said you kissed Roderick right in front of her. And I missed the whole thing.”
“What if Zara was just putting you on?” Roderick suggests from behind the espresso machine.
“Just answer yes or no,” Audrey says. “Is he really your boyfriend? I’m having a little trouble believing it.”
I never wanted to be the center of attention, but now that I am, I might as well have some fun with it. “What would you say if I told you that Griffin already knows the answer?”
“ No .” Audrey’s eyes widen again. “Before me? How is that even possible?”
“Well…” That’s when my bravado runs out. Because I really don’t want to explain that super-awkward moment from Christmas morning. “Roddy?” I call. “Help!”
“Aw, you call him Roddy!” Audrey squeals. “That is the cutest thing ever.”
“So do you!” I point out.
“It’s more adorable when you do it. Say it again. Wait, let me get a video.” She unlocks her phone.
“No!” I yelp.
Laughing, Roderick reappears. He sets an espresso next to my bagel plate. “What’s the problem?”
“Come here a second, please. Closer,” I beckon. Since I’m not a fan of explaining my feelings, this just seems easier. When he’s near enough, I grab him by the T-shirt and pull him down for a lip touch. “Thank you for the bagel and the coffee.”
“Anytime.” Smiling, he gives my shoulder a squeeze before disappearing into the kitchen.
“Oh man ,” Audrey says with a dreamy sigh. “I ship it.”
“You—what?”
“She’s a fan,” Zara says from the counter. “Audrey, leave that boy alone. You can go home, too. This wasn’t supposed to be your shift.”
“But I’m here now.” She swings her feet onto an empty chair and rubs her belly. “I’ll only go home if you guys promise to come to Thursday dinner next week.”
“What’s on the menu?” Roderick calls from the back. “Kieran needs an incentive to be dragged out to Tuxbury and gawked at.”
“There will be no gawking,” she says with a sniff. “But there will be buttermilk-fried chicken, creamy potato salad, spicy Asian pickles, and corn fritters.”
“Oh man,” I breathe. “The gawking might even be worth it.”
Everybody laughs.
Around noon, my dad is moved into a regular hospital room and is allowed a couple more visitors. “I should go up there,” I say, dreading it. How is my father going to feel about me now that his secret is out?
“We’ll go together,” Roderick suggests. “We can get noodles afterwards.”
All the noodles in the world won’t make it easier. But I head to the hospital anyway, with Roderick at my side.
When we approach my dad’s room, we see my mother standing at Dad’s bedside. She notices us and joins us in the hallway, closing the door behind her. She looks exhausted.
“Sally,” Roderick says. “Don’t take this the wrong way. But when is the last time you slept?”
“I don’t remember,” she says.
“Let me take you home, Ma,” Kyle says, appearing in the hallway with a cup of coffee. “I’ve been saying that for hours.”
“Okay,” she says. “Thank you. Let me get my coat.”
While she’s fetching it, Kyle puts a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Sure,” I grunt. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Because this is stressful as hell. Is he taking good care of you?” Kyle nods toward Roderick.
“Well, yeah. But I’m all right.”
Kyle crosses his arms and frowns. “I’m sorry I was a tool yesterday.” He turns to Roderick. “And I’m sorry if I was a tool to you at any point.”
“I’ve met bigger tools,” Roderick says curtly. “But this macho big-brother thing you’re working today is kind of hot.”
“Roddy.” I sigh.
He snickers. “Sorry. I’m more inappropriate when I’m nervous.”
Kyle flashes him a quick grin. “Okay. Whatever. I’m taking Mom home now.”
“You want help tomorrow?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I got it. Go on.” He points at Dad’s room. “You take over here. He’s been asking for you.”
“Okay,” I say as my stomach rolls.
I can’t avoid it any longer. I step into the room alone. My father is lying on his back, his eyes shut, his face pale. There are bandages visible on his chest, and he seems frail, older than a man in his early fifties.
I’ve spent plenty of time irritated at my dad, but until now, I never spent much time wondering what it would be like to lose my dad. And I’m not ready. I sit down heavily in a chair and try to hold myself together.
His eyes flicker open, and he turns his chin to see who’s there. “Kieran,” he says tiredly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. “Sure.”
He closes his eyes again. “That’s how we always do it, right? We say we’re okay no matter what.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “We do.”
“Your mother told me everything. I can’t believe how we failed you. In a tree at church? That is not how I wanted you to hear the truth.”
“I wasn’t supposed to hear it at all, right?”
His eyes flip open again. They’re a dark brown color that the Shipleys all share. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake. If I could go back in time and find a better way, I would. You were such an angry teenager, and I struggled with it.”
“I know.”
“I understand now that you probably thought I loved your brother more. He was easier for me to understand, though. I had no idea what you were going through—that it was my fault you were so angry.”
My throat is closing up now. “Water under the bridge,” I croak.
“Secrets burn you,” he whispers. “I didn’t understand that when I was young. Don’t make the same mistake, if you can help it.”
“I’m trying,” I say, fighting off tears. “I swear.”
He swallows hard. “Good.”
“I have a boyfriend. You met him,” I blurt out. “Roderick. Maybe that seems weird to you, but it doesn’t to me.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’m sure I can get used to the idea. Thank you for telling me.”
I gulp back tears. “You’re welcome.”
“Hey, my wallet is in that drawer.” He nods toward the table beside the bed. “There’s a picture in there. Pull it out for me.”
Grateful for something to do, I open the drawer and fish out my dad’s ancient leather wallet.
Inside there are slots for two photos. One is a picture of Kyle, circa first grade.
And the other one is a photo I’ve never seen before.
I’m maybe one year old. My dad is holding me, and I’ve got my small hand on his face.
And he’s smiling so widely at me. The way a man smiles at his little boy.
“It wasn’t always difficult,” he says. “Let’s both try to remember that.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice breaking.
“You take that one,” he says. “I have the same photo on my bureau at home. Show it to your boyfriend, so he knows what a cute baby you were.”
I slip the picture out of the plastic sleeve. My relationship with Dad is heavy. But the photo is light in the palm of my hand.
When I finally come out of Dad’s hospital room, I find Roderick and Father Peters on adjacent waiting room chairs, their heads bent together in deep discussion.
“Hey,” I croak. “What are you two scheming about?”
“Tacos and enchiladas!” Father Peters says. “We’re trying to figure out which one is easier to serve to two hundred people.” He jumps to his feet. “How is your father?”
“He’s all right for a guy with severe lacerations and no spleen.”
“Ah. I’ll visit him in a moment. How are you holding up?”
“Fine.” I take a deep breath. “Better, actually.”
“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder. “I’m going to ask you a question, but I don’t expect an answer right away.”
“Okay?” That sounds ominous.
“Do you want me to find your biological father? Your mother told me about him this morning. I’ve never met the man, but I’m sure I could track him down. If that ever becomes important to you, just say the word.”
“I don’t think so,” I say abruptly. “But thanks.”
He gives me a quick hug. “You call me if you need anything. My door is always open to you. Both of you,” he says, including Roderick. And then he strides out of the waiting room.
“Whoa,” Roddy says, rising to his feet. “Would you ever want to meet your sperm donor?”
I’ve wondered about him, for sure. But the man got a parishioner pregnant and then made himself scarce. “Parents are difficult. I think I already have all the parents I can handle.”
“Aw. They sure are.” Roderick wraps his arms around me and gives me my second hug in as many minutes. “Are you ready to go out for noodles with me?”
“More than ready,” I admit. And I give him a tight hug back.