Chapter 15
‘Donal, what were you thinking?’ Maureen took the cup he held out to her.
Her hand was steady now that she’d had a chance to recover from the fright he’d given her and the ensuing kerfuffle with the neighbours.
She’d drawn the curtains and curled up on the sofa, while Pooh, sound asleep and oblivious to all that had happened, snored on his doggy blanket.
Donal set his cup on the side table and sank into his recliner. To atone, he’d swept up the broken china in the kitchen and made the tea. ‘I had a mask on today up in Terri’s attic. You know, breathing in fibreglass insulation and rat droppings is no good.’
‘That’s sensible.’
‘Sensible it might be, but it was awfully hot and itchy. My beard was driving me mad, and I decided it was time for a change. I thought I’d surprise you.’
‘Well, you certainly did that. Do you not remember picking Pooh up from Rosemary and Cathal’s once we got home from the cruise?’
‘I do, Mo.’ Donal shook his head slowly at the memory. ‘We were convinced they’d replaced him with a different dog.’
They both looked at Pooh. Rosemary had forewarned them he’d had a little trim in their absence before bringing him out.
Mercifully, his curls were back to normal now because the groomer Rosemary had taken him to had clipped him within an inch of his life.
She’d left him with pom-poms where no self-respecting poodle would want them.
The memory was still raw, and they shuddered in perfect unison.
‘Do you know, thinking on it now, I reckon Rosemary hoped we’d disown him.’ Maureen’s brow furrowed. ‘I wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘Mo, are you saying you’re going to disown me?’ There was a twinkle in Donal’s eyes.
‘No, not at all. I’m merely giving you an understanding of the shock I felt when you appeared like that.’
‘I’m beginning to understand.’
‘And it’s not that I don’t like it, Donal. You’re a fine-looking fella. I just didn’t expect to see you denuded like this.’
‘Fair play, but my face is very smooth. Here, have a feel.’ Donal angled a cheek towards her, and Maureen leaned over to stroke it.
‘Smooth as a babby’s bum,’ she declared. ‘But, Donal, you sing in a Kenny Rogers band. Did you think about that? Your fans won’t be happy when you rock up at our next gig looking like a freshly plucked chicken.’
‘Kenny shaved his beard off a few years ago.’
‘He never.’
‘He did. Although, to be fair, he grew it back quick smart.’
Maureen eyed him. ‘It’ll grow on me, Donal.’
‘Are you being funny?’
‘No.’
‘And will you be staring at me like that all evening?’
‘I expect so. I don’t see how I’ll get used to it otherwise.’ Maureen sipped her tea.
‘Fair play.’
‘You did take my mind off Róisín, Donal. I’ll give you that much.
I’m thinking I might go around after we’ve had our dinner and have a word with her about this home birth business.
I did try ringing earlier, but Aisling’s probably been in her ear and told her I’m not happy about it because she didn’t answer. ’
‘Mo, where and how she decides to have the babby is up to her and Shay,’ Donal ventured gently.
If anybody else had said that to her, Maureen would have bristled, but she respected Donal’s opinion. ‘Yes, but I’m her mammy and, aside from knowing best, I’m worried. How would I live with myself if something went wrong and I hadn’t said a word?’
‘To worry is a mam and dad’s lot. You know that. If you sit down with Rosi and explain your worries instead of going in all guns blazing like, then I think she’ll at least hear you out.’
‘You’re right.’ Maureen tapped the side of her cup.
‘Then there’s Bronagh’s mam, Myrna. I’ve all the time in the world for her.
She’s a lovely woman who’s not been dealt a fair hand with her health, but it’s meant Bronagh hasn’t been either, and I’m surprised and annoyed by her behaviour.
She’s upsetting the applecart, making a fuss about Bronagh and Lenny buying a new house, saying she won’t move and the like.
Then there’s her insistence on that ungrateful daughter of hers being Bronagh’s matron of honour when it’s me she’d rather have.
Hilary’s a bully, and if she’s involved in Bronagh’s wedding, she’ll take over. ’
‘It’s the change.’
‘Myrna’s well past menopause, Donal.’
‘No, Mo. I realise that. What I mean is change itself. That’s what she’s frightened of.
At her time of life, it won’t be easy, and it’s making her lash out.
As for the sister, well, I can’t help you there, but it sounds like Bronagh needs to stand up for herself where she’s concerned.
What does Lenny have to say about it all? ’
‘He’s still in Liverpool, packing up his house, but I’m sure he’d be saying the same thing I am.’
‘Well, perhaps he needs to come back and tell Bronagh that in person. That’s what relationships are about, after all. Having one another’s backs.’
Maureen thought about this. ‘You’re a very wise man, so you are, Donal McCarthy, and I’m glad you’ve got my back.’
‘Even if I look like a plucked chicken?’
‘Even if.’ Maureen laughed.
‘So, does that mean I can have potatoes with my grilled chicken tonight? Because I’m starting to feel like a rabbit with all the salad we’ve been eating.’
Ah God love him, the hope shining in his eyes would melt your heart, Maureen thought, remembering her own misdemeanour. Her fingers went to her top lip. ‘Donal, there’s something I need to tell you.’
‘I’m listening, Mo.’
Out it came in a rush. ‘I’m after eating a cream cake at the pirate café in Howth today.’
Donal recoiled, feigning shock and betrayal. Then, trying not to grin, he said, ‘Never mind, Mo. Terri slipped me a wedge of chocolate cake this afternoon.’
They started laughing.
‘I suppose we could have a few potatoes with our dinner.’
‘And pudding?’
‘Don’t push it, Donal.’