Chapter 73
73
I wanted to collapse onto a couch and gasp into a paper bag. I couldn’t though; too many people were depending on me.
Ben’s speech ended and the guests discovered there was no more wine. Naturally the eleven Irish people vamoosed “like shite out of a goose” as my dad would have said—the canny articles had their own transport arrangements.
Our overseas visitors weren’t so lucky. Desperate to return to town to keep drinking, a free-for-all broke out.
“Hey! Can we go with Grinner?” Merv called, waving fifty-euro notes. “Sir, Mr McGee, can we get a ride to town with you?”
Ike had departed with one full busload of US people: somehow Merv had not been one of them, so he was trying to buy his way onto the “European” bus.
“Grinner!” I made No, no, no eyes at him. We had a system . Go , I messaged. Go, go, go .
Grinner fled. The only remaining guests were Merv and his crew.
“Merv.” I intercepted him. “Ike will be back for you in five minutes tops.”
“Five minutes?”
“Absolutely.” It wasn’t a lie , per se. I’d have bristled if I’d been called dishonest. But Irish people, we lapsed into our native tongue when we described units of time. “Five minutes’ translated to “eighteen minutes.” Possibly twenty.
I spoke soothingly but my thoughts were of Joey and his boys. There was no sign of them. Gone back to the town? It was the best thing because I was so shook. However, underneath that relief was a deep, dark disappointment.
Then Joey came out of the bathroom, trailing the three boys.
“—it’s to dry your hands, not your butt,” he was saying to Isaac, the mini-Joey. “If you sit on it, you could break it.”
“He knows that,” the eldest boy said. “He was just being disgusting.”
“ You’re disgusting.” Isaac launched into a series of running kicks, like a martial arts display.
“Dad.” The youngest one pawed Joey. “I want a juice.”
I watched Joey reach into the black satchel slung across his body. “Blackcurrant or pear?”
“Pear. No, apple.”
“There’s no apple, baby boy. Pear’s nearly the same—oh.” Joey saw me. He appeared shocked. God knows why, he knew I was there. Head down, he grabbed his sons and hustled them towards the exit.
Leaving without acknowledging me? Oh no, no, no. “Joey?” My tone was sharp.
“Uh, hey, Anna.”
“Exactly, yes, hey .” I felt sore. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. It was a long drive—by the time we got here, we all needed a runabout. We should have left immediately. I’m sorry.”
What was he talking about?
“We wanted to see.” The tall, dark-haired one was concerned. “It’s our fault. Sorry.”
“Sorry,” Zeke whispered.
“Sorry.” Isaac didn’t sound it. But I had no idea what he was apologizing for, so did it matter?
Joey’s sons seemed keen to shoulder the blame for some mystery transgression and that wasn’t cool. They were only kids.
“Hi.” I smiled at the eldest. “You must be Max.”
Politely, he asked, “How do you know?”
“I can read minds.”
His smile was withering. “Who are you?”
“Boys.” Joey cleared his throat. “You know Regan? Anna is her auntie.”
“I know Regan.” Isaac was twirling in a circle.
“She knows you too, Isaac.”
It was the maddest thing but after the Paddy’s Day weekend, Joey and Regan had “stayed in touch.” By which I mean, Regan had pestered Helen day and night to remind Joey she’d been invited to Zeke’s birthday party. Joey made good on his promise so Regan—and Helen, of course—had gone.
On her return Regan was besotted with Isaac. “That boy is a disgrace,” she told me. “His mama told him not to go in the garden and he went in the garden! His sneakers got muddy and he ruined her good, clean floor!” Staring dewy-eyed into the middle distance, she repeated, her voice faint, “He’s a disgrace.”
I had sighed long and hard at having to witness a second generation of Walsh women falling for those Armstrong boys, then waited for Helen to describe Elisabeth’s house.
“Anna, it was GOD AWFUL. Everything was a weird pink-beige color, what they used to call ‘flesh-tone’ before the people who make underwear realized not everyone is white. It was like being inside a giant plaster. The telly was kept in a cupboard. So was the toaster. Have you ever heard such lunacy ?”
Helen stopped, then swallowed. “Anna, this is hard to say, but I…like her. She’s nice. So good with all the children—cheerful, like a primary school teacher, bit loud but you can’t have everything. And not above mopping her own muddy floor even though she was in a viiiiiile Oscar de la Renta frock. Nothing wrong with her, she’s just different from us.”
“How do you know our names?” All suspicion, Isaac squared up to me. “Did Regan tell you?”
“Nope.”
The youngest boy, leaning against Joey’s legs, raised his hand. Sounding doubtful, he asked, “Do you know who I am?”
Holy smoke, he was gorgeous.
“You’re Zeke. And you’re…six? Seven?”
He giggled. “Five.”
“No! You look way older!”
Perhaps he did, but how would I know? The only small child I had dealings with was Regan. But the greatest compliment you could give four-year-old Regan was to pretend you thought she was five.
Isaac threw me a scornful look. “Regan’s really small,” he declared. “She’s four, but she only looks three.”
What? Negging already ? He fancied her back, by the look of things.
“Dad?” Zeke whispered. “I’m hungry.”
“Okay. Rice cakes? Or you want your dinner?”
“Dinner. Chips. I want to go to the place.”
“Anna, we’re going to head,” Joey said. “These boys need feeding.”
“Would you like to join us?” Max asked. “We’re going to—what’s it, Dad? The Broderick, for toasted sandwiches. You get crimped crisps.”
Well, he’d changed his tune. “Thanks, Max, but I’m working right now.”
“Ah, come ,” Isaac yelled, his smile impish.
“Come!” Zeke giggled, getting in on the act.
“There’s ice cream,” Max said. “Three flavors.”
“We’d love you to join us.” Joey was calm. His expression was sincere. “But if you’re busy…?”
The thing was, once I got Merv and his cohort onto the bus, my evening was mine.
But going for food with Joey and his kids would be an act of self-harm: I’d feel terrible later and tomorrow and the day after that. However, in the now—and we only have now, right?—I wanted it more than life. “Okay. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll come over.”
I heard Joey’s exhale.