37. Catriona
Thirty Seven
Catriona
“I’ll treat you to the best-kept secret delicacy in town.”
Rian tips his Ray-Ban sunglasses - that I doubt are the fake kind - down and glances at me from over the frame. “I’ve already been there, tasted that, and can sign the t-shirt…”
“Rian!” I can’t help but laugh despite my burning cheeks. “This place has the best cinnamon scone you’ll ever taste!”
It’s been hard, the last days, keeping up the act in the office, pretending Rian and I are nothing more than we have ever been.
But somehow, it’s also exhilarating, finding new ways to sneak hot looks or passionate kisses without anyone noticing.
Such as Rian conveniently finding a reason for Mona to skip the meeting on the north side of town, close to my favourite bakery.
Leaving Rian and me on our own.
I half expected Rian to have a hotel room booked for us for a quickie. And I wouldn’t have minded at all…
“And how come you know about this best-kept secret?” With his jacket slung over his shoulder, I can only barely keep my attention on the road in front of me instead of roaming over that snug white shirt.
I know exactly what’s hiding underneath.
I’ve counted each defined muscle, licked every groove between them.
“My uncle dated a girl who worked there, and she later became my aunt. So, my whole family became, and still are, regulars. Back in the day, we all used to meet here on Saturday mornings for a cinnamon scone and a brew. Some of my best childhood memories are from this shop.”
“You don’t do it anymore?”
“No—hey!”
Rian’s husky chuckle is a warm caress as I try to stop him from undoing my hair.
“That’s better,” he says as my hair flows down my shoulders. He tugs on a strand and his burning gaze drifts to my lips. “You were saying?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t go there anymore?”
“Oh, yes. I mean, no.” I lick my lips and mentally slap myself back to focus.
“At some point, it stopped. I guess life got in the way? Once we became teenagers, Eric had hurling games on Saturdays. Daniel had different support groups on the weekends. My grandfather passed away. I had schoolwork and weekend work.” I pause for a second, lost in my memories.
“So, yeah, we don’t meet up on Saturdays anymore, but we all use the bakery when in the area. It’s the one luxury I allow myself.”
“One luxury? How much does one of these cinnamon scones cost?”
“You’re not supposed to ask the price of a gift,” I scold, embarrassed to admit that wasting a few euro is considered a luxury for me. “This is my treat, so accept it and keep your gob shut.”
He holds his hands up defensively. “I won’t say another word!”
As we enter the bakery, it suddenly dawns on me that it may be a mistake bringing Rian here. I quickly scan the row of tables and my shoulders sag in relief that none of my family members are here.
“Catriona, good to see you!”
My shoulders hike right back up. One of the sisters running the bakery flashes a big smile between her red cheeks. I’ve never seen her away from the café, so I don’t know if it’s the hot ovens that keep her flushed or if this is the way she always looks.
“Hillary, how are you?” I greet while my own smile feels stiff.
“Ach, you know, the usual aches and pains, nothing new, love. Nothing new.”
She eyes Rian with a bit too much interest, and I hurry to deliver my order before any questions are asked. “Hillary, could I please have two cinnamon scones and two coffees to go – one with a dash of milk?”
“For sure, love. The scones are just out of the oven.”
“Oh, that’s great!”
I tap my foot impatiently, sensing the heat from Rian as he leans into me from behind. He discreetly points to one of the buns in the glass display and whispers as he tucks my hair behind my ear, “Doesn’t that one look like Smyth?”
I snort. “Don’t say that! I’ll never be able to eat it again without—”
“Cat!”
A chill, and not the good kind, makes its way down my spine. That voice is all too familiar. I sense my face drain of colour as I slowly turn. That stiff smile is back on my face.
“Ma. Patrick. Hi!”
Of all people, of all people, I had to run into my mother!
Patrick’s arm is draped over Mum’s shoulder, lovingly and possessively.
Mum is dressed in a purple tunic over black tights, her work outfit at the hair salon where she’s the receptionist. Her eyes shine with a mix of surprise, hope and unasked questions as they shift back and forth between Rian and me.
“Are you out for lunch?” I squeak, trying desperately to delay the unavoidable introduction.
“Yes, it’s not often I have the time off to take your mum out for lunch, but I was lucky today,” Patrick replies and tucks Mum closer to him. Lucky indeed…
“Catriona, are you going to introduce us?” Patience isn’t one of my mother’s virtues, and she has obviously already reached her limit.
I quickly glance up at Rian. His eyebrow twitches when I don’t immediately respond. I clear my throat.
“Ma, Patrick, this is my colleague Rian, from KSS.”
I hold my breath, hoping Mum won’t recognise the name. Although it’s a traditional Irish name, it’s not that common. “Rian, this is my mother, Alison, and her partner, Patrick.”
I’ve hardly finished the sentence before my mother says, her words all drawn out, “Rian? As in Rian Kearney?”
“Uh-huh.”
Rian extends his hand, but Mum shifts her eyes to me. “As in your boss?”
“Yes, my boss,” I reply weakly.
“Mrs Taylor, it’s nice to meet you.”
Oh-so slowly, Mum turns to Rian. The frostiness in her gaze is sharper than icicles. Reluctantly, she shakes Rian’s offered hand. “It’s Miss Taylor.”
“I do apologise.” A frown appears between Rian’s brows. He turns to shake Patrick’s hand and gets a much friendlier response.
“Well, what brings you to this part of town?” Mum snaps.
“A business meeting, inspecting new premises that KSS might take on,” I respond and button my jacket.
“And which premises would that be?”
“Can’t discuss the details, Ma. Client confidentiality, you know.” I try to sound light-hearted, but the words don’t come out that way.
“And you decide to bring your boss here for lunch?”
“Your cinnamon scones and coffees, Catriona.” Hillary’s interruption is heaven-sent. Until the words are followed by, “Alison, Patrick! I didn’t see you there. Are you all having lunch together? Do you want me to change your order to sit-in, Catriona?”
“No!” I almost shout. “Sorry, we have to get back to the office.”
Rian’s face is blank. He has no idea what’s going on or why I am acting this way, but thankfully he picks up on my eagerness to leave. Fishing for his wallet, he mumbles, “I’ll get this”, while I grab the bag with the scones and my coffee.
“Apologies for having to run off,” he says as he takes his own coffee, leaving a generous tip. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Taylor, Patrick.”
Patrick replies, but Mum only gives him a sharp tip of her head. She turns to me. “Call me tonight.” It’s an order.
“Sure, Ma. See you, Patrick.”
I practically run out of the bakery. Rian easily falls in beside me as I stride quickly down the street.
He waits until we are a block down the road and about to cross the River Liffey before asking, “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”
For half a second, I consider pleading ignorance but decide to settle on half the truth.
“I may have mentioned to my mother that you’re a prick.”
His booming laughter lifts some of my heavy mood. “That may explain her attitude towards me.” He pauses. “But it doesn’t explain your behaviour.” The look he gives me shows he won’t accept any bullshit.
I don’t respond, can’t find the words. At this moment, I hate his perceptiveness.
“Catriona Taylor, are you ashamed of me?” He sounds incredulous, like that possibility has never crossed his mind.
“It’s not that. It’s the fact that you’re my boss. She thinks I should know better, because she…um…”
Rian stops abruptly. “‘I am my mother.’ That’s what you said to me when I came to your apartment that first time. Your mother had an affair with her boss, didn’t she? Is that why she’s Miss Taylor?”
“Yes,” I admit. “The affair ended with me. And now she’s totally disappointed in me for repeating her mistakes.”
He leans down, raising an eyebrow. “You have to forgive me, but I’ve never been any woman’s disappointment or mistake before.”
I can’t help but laugh, loving that he is able to make me do so despite how distraught I feel.
He spots a bench along the riverbank.
“I wouldn’t mind having this coffee while it’s still warm, and I’ve heard rave reviews about this cinnamon scone, so I’m not going to let it go to waste. How about you tell me your story while we eat?”
“The scone was supposed to be my treat, and you paid for it,” I reply sullenly.
“That’s okay. After meeting your mother, I’m probably barred from the bakery for all eternity, so I trust you to buy the scones in the future.”
Again, I laugh, warmth spreading from somewhere behind my ribcage.
Sitting on the bench, he lets me take my time telling the story of how I came to be, my mother’s mistake, my struggling childhood with just the two of us, and my almost non-existent relationship with my father.
“I sometimes wonder what it would’ve been like if I’d been closer to my dad, if his wife had accepted me.
I overheard her say once that it was a good thing my grandparents were dead so they didn’t have to experience the shame.
” I think I hear Rian mutter ‘bitch’ under his breath before I continue.
“I’ve never met my dad’s siblings, my aunts and uncles.
I have eight cousins who I hardly know the names of.
I could have been close to a whole other family.
I’ve only met my older siblings on a few occasions, and to think that I’m the aunt of four children I’ve never seen…
” I’m quiet for a while, struggling to get words past the lump in my throat.
“I guess it’s not knowing what could’ve been.
Maybe they’re all horrible and I’m really the lucky one who doesn’t have to be part of it. ”
I try to say it as a joke, but Rian doesn’t buy it. There’s no joy on his face as he wraps his arms around me, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, and buries his face in my hair.
“It’s their loss. If they only knew what they’re missing out on.”
I close my eyes, hiding the tears that his comforting words have caused. My breath hitches before I allow my body to melt into his safe embrace.
* * *
How I wish I had that safe embrace now, back in my apartment, as the phone rings.
“So?” Mum’s tone is clipped.
“Yes, Ma,” I answer as evenly as possible while my fingers turn white clutching my phone.
“What’s going on?”
Despite having rehearsed this conversation over and over all afternoon, I’m unable to come up with an answer.
“Are you dating him?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yes.”
“Catriona, you lied to me. You made me believe he was treating you badly, I gave you all my support, and then, behind my back, you start seeing him?”
Guilt flushes my skin, but I try to tamp it down.
“Only very recently. And I didn’t like him to begin with,” I say defensively, but it comes out weakly.
“And you think he’ll stay with you?” My hesitation makes her continue with renewed force. “Men like him eat girls like you for breakfast! Whenever he’s lost interest in you, he’ll move on to the next one and you’ll be left picking up the pieces.”
“Maybe it won’t last, maybe he’ll move on.” Or marry Alexandra. “But he makes me feel good, and that’s worth a little heartache, don’t you think?”
“You don’t know the first thing about heartache, how it will paralyse and debilitate you. You do not want to do this, Catriona!” Mum’s voice raises with every word, making me raise my own.
“I can’t not take chances just because I might get hurt. That’s not living, Ma. That’s being a coward.”
“Catriona, of all people, you should know that you don’t want to do this! You don’t want to date your boss! You know what I went through!”
“At least my boss isn’t married!”
There’s a gasp on the other end of the phone.
God, what did I just say? Never, in my whole life, have I condemned my mother for being with a married man.
She was only nineteen at the time, while my father – the married one – was thirty-four.
All blame is on him. What I wouldn’t do to take the words back!
“Ma, I’m so sorry…”
“He’s not married? Is that your excuse?” Her voice has venom in it that has never been directed at me before. “What about this Calla woman? Haven’t you told me that Rian is as good as engaged to her?”
I clench my jaw, trying to stop myself from screaming in frustration. “That – that’s different…”
“Wake up, Catriona!”
“I can’t live my life based on your mistakes, Ma! I have to make my own!”
I hang up and throw my phone onto the sofa.
Angry tears burn my cheeks. I’ve never hung up on my mother, not even during my rebellious teenage period.
It doesn’t feel good. This whole situation has left an awful taste in my mouth.
The ugly things we said… I’ve always had my mother’s support.
And now I’ve betrayed it. I’ve disappointed her.
But in some way, she also disappointed me.
Already in my running gear, I grab my keys and head out.
But the salty mist on the Fairview along Dublin Bay doesn’t soothe my mood or the growing unease in my stomach.
My phone shows no messages or missed calls when I return forty minutes later.
I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip to hold back the tears.
Mum is my best friend. I can’t lose her.
Not over a fecking man. I open the messaging app.
I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. Please forgive me.
I hold the phone, waiting, waiting.
The phone chimes.
Catriona, you could never disappoint me. I’m just worried about you and I’m overprotective. I’m your mum, I can’t help it.
A lump forms in my throat. I hesitate, then send another message.
Will you be there for me when he breaks my heart?
I’ll always be there for you.
This time, I can’t hold back the tears, but curl up on the sofa, sobbing.
When my tears subside, I feel strangely calm.
The guilt I’ve been carrying over the last weeks has worn me down.
Coming clean has lifted that constant ache.
Although it might be the opposite of what Mum wanted, knowing that she’ll be there for me makes me want to dive into my relationship with Rian even more.
You only live once. What’s the point of holding back?