Chapter 21 Life is good
Life is good
Morgan
TWO MONTHS LATER
Life is good.
A little over two months of having a routine and some stability has made me feel like… well, me.
I’m earning my own money.
Sleeping better.
Eating better.
Smiling more.
I won’t pretend like some days aren’t hard but facing them feels easier. I still avoid large crowds if I can and prefer going places I know, but it’s no longer stopping me from doing things.
I’m happier. And while I’m proud of myself, it doesn’t take a genius to work out that I owe a lot of this new, old me, to Paddy.
My friend.
Sitting on a blanket under the oak tree, the early morning sun kisses my face, warming me. A nearby pony snuffles the grass, picking at the short blades protruding from the light layer of frost, not fazed by being so close to me.
His gentle nibbling makes me stop. With a sigh, I close my notebook with the pen inside.
Truth is, over the past few weeks, I’ve allowed myself to overthink about my friend.
Because that’s what Paddy and I still are.
Friends.
I like to think of our relationship as comfortable. Just two people who, regardless of how much we get on or look out for one another, never seem to tell each other how we really feel.
Although comfortable with him is nice, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more. I know it. I’m pretty sure he knows it too. And yet, nothing ever amounts to anything.
Paddy likes me in the same way, I’m certain.
I mean, not to sound big headed, but we spend almost all of our free time together over at his place.
And, there are these moments when I think he’s going to kiss me like he did at Evie’s competition or tell me he has feelings for me.
I was once even so sure he was about to tell me something; I mentally made a bet with myself that this was it.
Finally, we were about to move out of the friend zone, and Paddy O’Keefe would be my boyfriend.
But he never did, and I felt short changed.
The pony raises his head, staring at me with his ears facing forward.
“Sorry.”
One of his ears faces backwards before he drops his head back to the grass.
Yeah, I wish my head would quieten too.
That’s why I came out here so early. Sure, I’m freezing, but I enjoy the stillness. The calm of breathing in the fresh air as the world slowly stirs.
It’s also my new favourite place to write.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the card Sarah handed to me a while back. I’d completely forgotten about it until I found it in my bag the other day. When I went to toss it, I don’t know, something inside me screamed at me not to.
Just like Holly did.
“You need to send him some of your work”, she’d said forcefully when I told her about what happened with Sarah.
Of course, I have no intention of doing so, but for whatever reason, this little card feels likes a paperweight in my pocket. I know it’s there. Pressing into my side like a constant reminder that if I want to, I could take a chance on myself.
Tucking it away, I pull out my phone, wanting to talk to my bestie.
“Who is this?”
I laugh under my breath. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
Holly grumbles.
“What time did you go to bed?”
“Well, if it’s seven-thirty now,” she moans, “then I guess four hours ago.”
My eyebrows pinch. “Holly,” I say sternly.
“Oh stop. You know I have no choice.”
She does, but she refuses to take the easy route. “You’ll burn yourself to the ground.”
She moves around and the phone muffles. “Since submitting my assignments, all I have done is work.”
“I know,” I tell her. “When’s your next day off?”
“Not ‘til Sunday.”
My mouth drops open. “Sunday?”
“Mm-hmm.” She yawns. “Want to have a girls’ day? I fancy dying my hair and eating my body weight in chocolate.”
“Sounds good to me. Want me to grab what we need?”
“That’d be great,” Holly says sleepily, yawning again.
“Alright. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Thank you.”
“Call you later.”
She hangs up, and I put my phone away. When I’m ready to leave, I pack up my things, cutting across the field and following the river back to the lower end of the village. I make my way down the track and let myself in through the O’Keefe’s gate. The door opens before I can knock.
“Good morning.”
“Morning, dear.”
Siobhan opens the door for me, and I slide off my boots on the mat.
“Did you get some writing done?” Her eyes flick down to my bag in my hand as she closes the door behind me.
“A few pages.”
She claps her hands together, eyes sparkling. “That’s grand. Coffee’s in the pot. I’ll go get Evie.”
I take off my coat and make my way through to her kitchen like I always do. Grabbing a mug and pouring the coffee, I add five sugars and take a seat at the table. The newspaper’s already out on the table with Mr O’Keefe’s glasses sitting neatly on top.
Intrigued by the picture on the front, I skim over the headline and sip my coffee as I read. Distant voices then have me looking out the window.
Coming towards the house side by side, Paddy and his father walk with their heads down, deep in conversation. Paddy stops and throws his hands up in the air. “What am I supposed to do?” I catch him saying.
Frank O’Keefe turns to face him. “Honestly, son. I have no idea. But you need to be careful.”
Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, I quickly look back down at the newspaper.
“Anything interesting?” Siobhan asks me, both arms full of dirty laundry.
“No,” I tell her, pretending to read. I pick up my mug and take a sip before placing it back down. “Just boring politics.”
She grumbles. “Waste of time, if you ask me. Bunch of lying—”
“Morning, Morgan.” Evie dances into the kitchen, cutting Siobhan short.
“Wow, you’re full of beans this morning.”
Evie opens the cupboard for a bowl and grabs the cereal. “It’s the holidays. No school for a whole week!”
“How are you liking your new school?”
Evie shrugs, humming under her breath. “It’s good. I’m brainier than half the kids in my class.”
“Way to stay humble,” Siobhan says, closing the washing machine door and turning it on.
Pulling out a chair, Evie kneels on it while pouring cereal into a bowl. “Uncle Paddy said not to lie. So I’m not. I am cleverer than most of the kids there.”
Me and Siobhan both laugh, looking at one another. “Well, if Uncle Paddy says so, I guess he’s right,” Siobhan agrees.
“He is,” Evie confirms. “Just like he was right about that old guy the other day.”
“Evie,” Siobhan then scolds. “That old guy has a name, you know.”
Evie eye rolls Siobhan, chomping down on her first mouthful of cereal.
Siobhan lets out a sharp sigh. “His name is Bert.”
Milk splashes on the table as Evie snorts into her spoon. “Bert.” She shoves another spilling spoon into her mouth.
“Yes, Bert. And he is very lucky that Patrick was there to help him.”
“I know,” Evie says with her mouth full, milk slipping past her lips. “Uncle Paddy said if we’d been a minute longer, tentacles would have grown out of his arse.”
Siobhan’s mouth drops open. “Evie. He needed his inhaler. It had nothing to do with his… you know.”
I cover my smile, and Siobhan shakes her head in disgust.
“What? Uncle Paddy—”
“That’s enough about Uncle Paddy,” Siobhan tells her with a flick of her wrist. “When I see him, he’ll be getting his behind whooped for telling you nonsense like that.”
Evie giggles. “I can’t wait to see it.”
The cheekiness of Evie never ceases to make me smile. But when the back door that leads straight into the kitchen swings open, it quickly fades, seeing Paddy’s expression.
He looks downbeat.
“Morning,” I say, still watching him.
He holds my gaze before slipping his coat from his shoulders and hanging it on the hook. “You’re up bright and early.”
“So are you,” I counter, wondering why he is.
Since not being allowed back to work as soon as he wanted, Paddy’s been helping Mr O’Keefe in his garage.
“Cars won’t mend themselves,” he tells me, earning a pat on the back from his dad.
They both take a seat at the table. It’s just after eight. It’s chilly, but the sun is beginning to warm the air.
“What are both your plans for today?” Siobhan asks.
Paddy and I exchange a look. “After we’ve taken Kevin out, I’m having my last lesson, then going into town and booking a driving test.”
“Oh, dear, that’s wonderful news,” Siobhan sings happily. “Once you can drive you won’t have to catch that awful bus anymore.”
Paddy grins with his head down.
“Yeah. I can’t wait.”
Truth is, I haven’t caught the bus once since Paddy started giving me lessons. He’s let me drive to and from work every day without fail. Not wanting to cause a stir, we’ve kept it a secret, mainly so that my parents don’t put an end to it.
“And yourself, Patrick. Any plans?” Siobhan places a plate of fresh toast on the table, along with some jam and peanut butter.
I eye it cautiously, glands swelling, nose turning up.
“I dare you to have a spoonful,” Paddy jokes, unscrewing the lid and thrusting his finger in before shoving it in my face.
Idiot.
“I’d rather eat glass,” I grumble in disgust, batting his hand away.
Siobhan swiftly swipes it off him, placing it in the cupboard. “Sorry, dear.”
I sip my coffee, enjoying the way Siobhan takes my side.
Paddy frowns at me playfully, then licks his finger and pours a mug of coffee for himself. “I’m actually going to see Tom around lunch. Then I’ll be back to help Pops.”
“You think he’s going to give you your job back?” Siobhan asks quickfire, and suddenly all eyes are on Paddy.
I feel like an intruder, even though of late, a morning coffee with the O’Keefe’s on my days off has become part of my normal routine.
Paddy remains silent.
A pang of sorrow hits me hard for him. We all know he wanted his job back sooner rather than later.
When his boss called him in the car after my first driving lesson, I couldn’t help but listen. Paddy was made to see a councillor for three weeks and, based on her assessment, then he would hear whether he could return.