Chapter 34
Bonnie
“Seriously, Sabrina, I’d take any help you can get,” Brooke says, cradling a contented Lily Rose against her. I quickly realized how exhausting it can be with one tiny baby.
“And you’re having two, so it’ll be double the workload,” I helpfully point out.
We’ve put together a surprise baby shower for Sabrina. I’d suggested it to Brooke, and she offered to host us. There’s also a few ladies from Sabrina’s art gallery.
“God help your vadge.” Stella gives Sabrina a loving pat on her hand.
“Okay, don’t scare her now, Stella,” Brooke warns.
“Well, since you’ve been there, Brooke, why don’t you enlighten us if things do ever remain the same down there?” Stella replies. “I’ve always wondered—and before you say anything, think carefully because this might impact whether I will ever let a man put his baby inside me.”
“Well, to be completely honest, for the first couple of weeks, it’s like a car crash scene,” Brooke begins, and we all laugh. “But after a few weeks, everything changes again and goes back to normal.”
“So, essentially, you’re saying no sex for the first couple of weeks after?” Sabrina looks more terrified by that prospect than actual labor.
“Trust me, babe, you will have your hands full with the babies. You won't be thinking of sex,” Brooke reassures.
“I don’t know about that. It seems to be all I want to do these days,” Sabrina protests.
“No wonder I thought I spotted a pale-looking Jordan with a black eye the other day,” Stella quips, for which she gets a playful flick from Sabrina.
“Well, you can get back to us, Sabrina, on how it is in a few weeks,” I point out. To Brooke, I say “So, when do you think our heathen friend will be back in commission after delivery?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Sabrina, although you may not feel like it for weeks, out of nowhere, it’ll hit you one day. God help that man, wherever he is at that point because he’ll bedone for.”
“Well, I’ll cheers to that,” I say, raising my glass of club soda. The others hum in agreement and touch their glasses to mine.
We play a few baby games, present Sabrina and the twins with gifts, and then Brooke leads a session on bathing and changing diapers while we’re watching with rapt attention as though she’s demonstrating a life-saving procedure. It may as well be, with how much work babies can be.
My phone vibrates, and I grab my purse and quickly excuse myself. I’ve been expecting Ethan’s call all day. He’d gone to Berlin for meetings and was meant to swing by Munich this afternoon for another round of treatment from his eye specialists. I’ve been anxiously waiting for an update.
Munich is a few hours ahead of New York, and since it’s just after 5 p.m. now, he should have finished the procedure. I move to another room in the sprawling penthouse, and once out of earshot, I fish the phone out, noting the unknown number with puzzlement. Perhaps he’s calling from the hospital?
“Hello?”
“Siobhán?” The soft voice on the other end makes my heart stop. “Siobhán, is it really ya?”
Oh, God. “Ma?” My voice breaks. “How did you find me?”
“Yer…friend, Silas.” Twiggy.
I quickly find a surface to sit on. It’s a child’s bed. I must be in the room Xavier set up for his niece, who likes to spend time in their home. “Um, how are you, Ma?” She sounds awful.
I hear sobbing, but not an actual reply. “Where are you calling from?” I ask.
“At the train station. Some kind soul let me use their phone,” she finally responds.
“What happened to yours?”
“Left it back home. I was just out for a stroll to clear me head. Oh, Siobhán!”
“You’re scaring me, Ma.” A few months ago, I would have hung up on her. Maybe even after Nan’s funeral. But in a few weeks of being with Ethan and his family, I’ve had so much love and chances to heal.
It reminds me of a puppy Maeve and I found out in the cold one day, all skin and bones. We’d hid her in a box in our garage, and even though we didn’t have a lot to feed her, with the care and attention alone, her fur became glossy and she got stronger in just a couple of weeks—until, of course, my father discovered her and made us give her up.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Ma?”
“Can y’ever forgive me?” she whispers.
“What?” My heart seems to be knocking against my chest. Oh, my. Hot, salty tears spring to my eyes. I can't do this. Not without Ethan next to me.“Um, Ma, I can’t—”
“Siobhán, please. I’m beggin', just hear me out.”
I take a steadying breath.
“It's a disgrace, Siobhán, how blind and daft I've been. I had one baby and one job: to love ya. And I couldn't even do that right. Can't imagine the horrors ye've faced. And it's on me that y’endured so much pain.”
No, Ma, you can’t begin to imagine, no.
This admission is everything I always wanted to hear. Everything that led to losing myself in a vortex of pain, drugs, and meaningless sex. And ultimately finding myself with friends who accept and respect me, a family who values me, and an all-consuming passion with Ethan.
It’s everything I wanted to hear, but it’s not nearly as satisfying as I imagined it would be.
Is it too late for us then?
“Ma, you were in as much a bind as I was. The Sect—”
“Is a load of horse crap!” My eyebrows fly up in shock. Speechless, I stare at the phone for a few seconds before putting it back to my ear. I can’t believe my mother. Swearing and also calling the Sect a choice name?
“Come again?” I can’t help but ask.
“It’s just a compilation of hot, steamin’ bollocks. It's all a fuckin’ con, made to fleece people.”
“Ma, I don’t understand.”
“The money folks give up isn't for the needy. The masters divvy it up among themselves. Your da has a sneaky account over in the Cayman Islands and heads off to some fancy spot once a year with the masters for a couple of months, livin’ large. That's their so-called 'annual retreat,' not to get inspiration in the poverty-ridden places we were led to believe they were seekin’ guidance from,” she explains.
I can’t believe my ears. “What the hell, Ma? How do you know this?”
“Silas told me. Showed me proof and everythin’.”
I remember the last conversation with my dad—well, the only one in the past ten years.
… But no, you roll in with a Ghost, flauntin’ how far you've come from the Limerick days.…
I had wondered how he knew the model of the luxury car. The first seeds of dread start to take over, too. My mother might be telling the truth. The Harmonial Sect might be one giant scam.
“How is Twiggy, um, Silas, how is he even mixed up in all of this?” I ask.
“I think the funeral did a number on him. Quite shocked by all that went on. He gave me his number and told me to call if I was ever in a bind or I felt like gettin’ out.”
Twiggy had seemed even more traumatized than I was over the things I must have endured as a child.
His reaction is the reason one of the highest transgressions was befriending someone outside the Sect. Because they’re more likely to see that the rest of the members have been brainwashed.
As much as my skin crawled to be in that Sect assembly at Nan’s funeral, I didn’t see anything they did as insanely strange. Because I’m used to their beliefs.
Twiggy must have been flabbergasted.
“I called him last week, Siobhán. Since that day in Clonmel, seein’ ya again, I’ve been crippled and riddled with guilt. It all came to a head when yer da left for the retreat and…”
“What happened?”
“The stand-in master needed some information from Paul’s desk, so he had no choice but to give me the code.” She takes a deep breath to ground herself. “Siobhán, I found that the purification the devout Harmonials do when they turn twenty-five and fifty is a sexual one. They sleep with the masters. Your da has been gettin’ cozy with different fellas and lasses once a month for the last twenty years, and I had no clue.”
Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick.
“When I called him to confront him, he seemed gobsmacked that I didn't know. Seems the whole parish knew except me, and it’s all consensual. They sign consent forms and everythin’… but it was too much bullshit for me. Especially with how he treated ya. I called Silas and told him I’d had enough, and that’s when he told me about the money.”
“Where the hell is Da now, is he still at his ‘retreat?’”
She gives a sad laugh. “Aye, for the next six weeks.”
“You mean he’s probably somewhere like Monaco?”
“Aye, or somewhere like that,” she says, though it’s clear she doesn’t care where he is, as long as it’s away from her. My mom starts crying again. “I’m so sorry. I should never have let anythin’ come between my love for ye. Nothin’ should ever come between a mam’s love. Not faith or prejudice or personal choices. Nothin’. I understand now why ye ran. We pushed ye far away.”
I look around, suddenly remembering I’m in Lisa’s room in Brookes's penthouse.
For the past ten minutes, I was back in Limerick. The place I used to call home. I know exactly how it feels the moment you realize that you’re homeless. That the place you called home is now a raging hellhole, and there’s no way you can ever go back there.
My mother is at that point now. She wants to leave.
Somehow, I know that’s why she’s calling. Maybe Ethan’s sixth sense is finally rubbing off on me.
She can easily leave if she wants to. She has no job, except to be the wife of a Sect master. No friends except those in the Sect.
“Ma, do you want out?” I hear a deep sigh.
“Where would I go?”
“Anywhere.” I hesitate. “You could even come to New York. To me.”
“Oh, Siobhán! I don’t know.”
“I think you do, Ma. Even if you’re not leaving for good, you should clear your head. Surely, there can’t be any rule in the book against visiting your daughter?” I ask.
“I’m done with the Sect, Siobhán. This past week was like scales fallin’ from me eyes. But I’ve never been out of Ireland.”
She’s never been on a plane. She can’t do it by herself.
“Okay. How about you go to Twiggy—Silas—in Dublin? Take a bus there, and I’ll come and see you when I can?”
She starts to cry again. “Okay, Siobhán.”
I disconnect. What did I just do? I need Ethan. I try his number again, and it goes to voicemail.
I sit for long minutes after speaking to my mother. Did I do the right thing? Should I have made her suffer a bit? Am I being gullible again, to believe her? Dropping everything and flying across the world to see the woman who has hurt me more than anyone else in the world seems foolish.
She was a hurting, broken, and oppressed woman, too.
Deciding to go with my gut, I book the next flight out to Dublin before I change my mind again and text Twiggy.
Me: Twiggy, I don’t even have the words right now, but thank you. Ma needs you. She wants to leave and come to you. I’ll be at yours tomorrow. Let me know if you’re not in Dublin ASAP. Thanks, dear.
I don’t know how long I sit on Lisa’s bed, my heart pounding and feeling faint and sick for what I’m about to do. I don’t even know this woman, not really. I’m so terrified of being hurt again.
I remember the night I ran away from home with my heart in my throat and the 350 euros I’d bought with my innocence. It’s exactly how I feel now, knowing there’s no going back once I choose to do this.
I walk to the adjoining bathroom on shaky legs and splash some water on my face and take a few breaths to settle my roiling stomach. The feeling clings and holds on, and within seconds, I’m bent over the toilet, retching violently.
I’m still on the bathroom floor when Brooke pokes her head in, then seeing the state I’m in, rushes into the bathroom.
“Bonnie? Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
She kneels next to me and sees the tears on my face. “Gosh, Bonnie, come here.” She helps me up to the sink again. There, she holds me while I cry, gently patting my back, telling me it’ll be okay.
I draw back, wiping my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be silly. Is everything okay, Bonnie? You scared me. Is it…Ethan?”
“Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s my mom. She’s okay,” I say when I see the look of alarm on her face. “She’s okay, she’s not hurt or sick. She just did something that she should have done ages ago, and it’s overwhelming. I can’t talk about it right now, but I’ll tell you later.”
“Oh, I see. I’m so sorry, Bonnie. You look like you need to lie down, darling.”
“I-I need to go actually. To Ireland.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yeah, I just booked a last-minute flight, and it leaves around ten tonight. I’m so sorry to flake on everyone, but I really need to go.” I hope she, and the rest of my friends, will understand.
Brooke produces a clean tissue out of nowhere, wets it, and wipes my eyes. I suppose that when you have a baby, you have to be prepared for the release of bodily fluids at any time.
“Have you spoken to Ethan?” she asks.
My face crumples. “Not yet. But I’m sure he’ll be in touch when he can.” He should have been finished with the procedure by now.
“Do you need us to help with anything? Should we see if Stella is free to go with you, or maybe she can meet you there?”
“Oh, no, please. It’s fine. I’ll be okay in Dublin. It’s probably going to be a bit messy, so it’s best if I sort things out on my own.”
“Alright.” She sighs. “You do what you need to do. I’ll just tell the girls you had to go to Dublin urgently, okay? We’ve got your back, babe, always and no matter what. Remember that.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.