Chapter 14
Days passed by achingly slowly as we adjusted to being a four instead of a five.
There was still a lot of activity around the house as aunts, uncles, and cousins from both sides of the family dropped in and out daily.
They brought pre-made dinners, bits of shopping, or took Bailey for a walk.
While it helped to not have to think about any simple day-to-day things, it also removed the ability to think about anything aside from the gaping open wound in my chest, or how I was watching my loved ones diminish into nothing in front of me.
I thought dealing with my own pain would be the hardest part of grief to battle through, but watching that pain reflected on my brother's face, seeing it break my father into an unrecognisable man, or how it turned Mam into an empty shell, made the agony too much to bear. I found Fionn in the garage that morning, sobbing his heart out on the ground with old Christmas decorations and tools in pieces from his rampage - breaking and smashing everything he could get his hands on. I held him until the sobs subsided, and he wiped his eyes and pushed to his feet, dropping a kiss on my forehead before he silently walked out the garage. I took Bailey up the fields for a long walk after that, needing to get away from the cloud of grief surrounding our house before it suffocated me. Once I'd passed the fairy fort in Healey’s field, I screamed until it felt like my vocal cords would rip right out of my throat. I screamed and screamed until no sounds came out, and Bailey laid her beautiful brown head in my lap as my whole body trembled. My rage that Shea was gone was starting to shift towards the man himself. I didn't care if it was nonsensical; he'd left me. My big brother who had been my protector and best friend my whole life just stopped existing, the steady calm presence my family used to centre us, disappeared. And now we were supposed to just deal with it. I didn't want to deal with it. I wanted to fast forward to five years later, when I could take a full breath without my lungs feeling like there were shards of glass lodged in them. When I could have effectively ticked off the five stages of grief and not worry about having to deal with such life-altering bullshit again. When the sun started to set, I sighed and pulled myself together. I knew it would be a bad idea to get stuck out here when it got dark, given the rabbit and fox holes scattered all through the land and the high chance of breaking my neck in the dark. When I trudged into the house with a bracing breath, I was met with Mam’s blank eyes turning to stare at me. Out of everything that had happened, looking at my mother was the most crippling part. She reminded me of a character from a sci-fi movie that was soulless. She made physical movements and spoke, but like she was a reanimated corpse instead of a person. It was as though her grief over losing her child had killed her spirit. Like when Shea’s soul left his body, he took my Mam with him. Another reason to direct my anger at him. It wasn’t enough for us to live without him, but now he’d effectively taken Mam with him too.
“Do you want me to start dinner, Mam?” I asked as she continued to stare at me with those dead eyes.
“No, love, I’ll make a start on it now,” she smiled at me.
The smile was even worse than the blank stare, like there were two strings hooked into the corners of her mouth that pulled her lips up.
I shrugged and moved into the sitting room to sit with Dad.
His eyes were red and swollen while he watched some repeat of a David Attenborough documentary.
Where Mam had curled so far into her shell we couldn’t find her, Dad couldn’t seem to hold it together for more than ten minutes.
I’d never seen him cry before, but since we’d lost Shea, he was dehydrated most of the time.
I’d never lost someone this close, so I didn’t know what was normal.
But I felt like Mam and Dad were on two different ends of a spectrum in how they were grieving, with me and Fionn just muddling along in the middle, not sure how we were supposed to feel in it all.
Dad’s shoulders started to shake as he watched a lion pouncing on a zebra, and I sat on the arm of his chair as he buried his face in my hair, soaking me in his tears.
I guessed on that spectrum, I was leaning more towards Mam’s form of grief.
Except I didn’t feel that deadness inside, just rage.
********
A few days later, I sat sandwiched between Niamh and Ella watching the sunrise with coffees in hand.
It had been two full weeks since Shea’s death ran me over like an artic truck, and it was my first time getting out the house to see my friends.
Dad had gone out to cut the lawns yesterday with his face set in grim determination, so I was taking that as a positive shift from sitting in a puddle of his tears in front of the TV.
It made me want to do something positive for myself too, which is why I found myself between the two anchors I’d had in life since childhood.
They’d both been checking in on me and all my family over the past couple of weeks, but had been respecting my space too as I clearly didn’t want to talk to or see them.
“Are you holding up?” Ella asked me softly.
I kept my eyes on the plethora of colour staining the sky - oranges, reds and some hints of purple - and shrugged my shoulders.
It made my heart squeeze painfully thinking of the last sunrise Shea and I had watched together while walking Bailey.
Red sky in the morning, Shepard’s warning. Same as now.
“I don’t want to talk about it to be honest,” I said firmly. I just wanted a distraction, something to remind me the world wasn’t ending. And it wasn’t a betrayal from the heavens above that the world was moving on when mine had come to a standstill.
“That’s fine, girl, we’ll talk about anything you like,” Niamh reached over and squeezed my hand gently.
I squeezed back for a second before pulling my hand into my lap.
I knew they just wanted to support me, but I was so raw and broken inside.
I wanted to prove to myself I could hold my shit together.
I didn’t want anyone to see the sharp jagged pieces that had broken off and ripped and shredded my insides every minute of the day, even my best friends.
We settled into companionable silence again, and I sipped on my latte.
“Have you heard back from Professor Walsh?” Ella broke the silence, surreptitiously eyeing me.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “She gave me the extension and told me to reach out with any support I need. But I’m not taking the extension.”
“What do you mean? Sure, the thesis is due next week, isn’t it?” Niamh asked.
“Yeah, I’ll have it ready.” I shrugged nonchalantly. I could see the two of them throwing looks at each other over the top of my head. I spun, catching Niamh head on, and she quickly averted her gaze to the waves again.
“I’ve spent the whole year working on this, it was in final edit stages with Walsh, and I have nothing to do except be sad all the fucking time, or watch my whole family disintegrate.
So, I’m going to gladly take the distraction and get this thesis done, just like everyone else.
” My voice rose on the last few words, and I could feel my cheeks starting to flush.
“That’s totally fine, girl, if that’s what’s going to help you then that’s what you need to do,” Ella soothed.
“Can we just change the subject now? What else has been happening?” I asked, looking between them both.
Niamh shrugged. “Same old same old for me; trying to figure out why the supposed love of my life is acting like he hates me.”
I smiled sympathetically at Niamh’s forced smile. She had been a steady support ever since I got the call about Shea’s accident, but I hadn’t forgotten she was battling her own heartache. It might be different from mine, but she was hurting all the same.
I turned toward Ella, and she hesitated before answering.
“Well, Tommy’s court date for his hearing has been confirmed. It’s next month.” Ella smiled. I beamed back at her and felt the strange ache in my face as I did, when was the last time I had smiled?
“That’s such good news, Ella, I’m delighted. How are you feeling about it?” Her smile faltered slightly but she hitched it back on.
“Bit nervous to see him again. But Garda Kelly’s been amazing preparing me for the process, she’s determined he won’t make bail.”
“As she should,” Niamh snarled. “Someone there needs to do more than moan their hands are tied by the law when fucking psychos like him are on the loose.”
Whatever guilt I had felt not being there for Ella that night, I knew Niamh had herself tied in knots over it all because she had been out with Ella that night and left early.
I nudged her with my knee and gave her a smile to interrupt her brooding when Ella’s phone pinged with a message.
As she picked it up, Niamh’s form shifted suddenly.
“Is that your mystery man again?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and giving me a grin.
“Mystery man?” I turned on her in confusion. I didn’t know she had anyone on the go, the odd few exchanges with that pretty boy singer from the day two band at Ruth’s wedding, but I didn’t think that had escalated.
Ella’s face went tomato red. “Shut up, you fool. There’s no mystery man.” She shoved her phone back into her pocket, cheeks flaming.
“Have you seriously got someone on the go?” I asked with raised brows. “And you’re not telling us about him?”
Before she could answer, Niamh interjected, “Her phone has been hopping since Christmas, and she goes purple whenever you ask her who it is. So she’s definitely holding out on us.”
Ella’s face went brighter still, “There’s not. Will you just shut up about it already,” she squeaked.