Chapter 58
I was staring at the McCoys’ front door with the added extension for Ronan’s wheelchair for I don’t know how long before my fist made its way to knocking. Mr McCoy answered.
‘Brendan, the man himself, come on ahead in.’
I stepped inside and as soon as I looked down the hallway my eyes shut tight.
‘Emma’s in the kitchen there,’ Mr McCoy said and my eyes shot open again. ‘You alright, Brendan?’
‘Yeah, Mr McCoy,’ I said, staring down the dark hallway. ‘I’m OK.’
Mrs McCoy was standing in front of the kettle that had just come to the boil.
‘Brendan, good to see you, come here,’ she said, moving in for a hug, and I met her halfway. ‘How are you?’ she said as we let go.
‘I’m OK,’ I said, looking around the kitchen, noticing the schedule for Ronan’s routine was no longer up on the wall. The dining table was in a different position and things looked a bit more sparse in general.
‘We’ve done a bit of rearranging,’ said Mrs McCoy.
‘The hoarder has become the declutter queen,’ said Mr McCoy.
‘Keeps me busy,’ said Mrs McCoy, fixing loose hair behind her ear. ‘Why don’t you take a seat in the living room there and I’ll bring these in when they’ve brewed a bit?’
I nodded and walked into the living room with a stiffness in my legs. I sat down on the sofa and Mr McCoy sat at the other end. It looked different in there too although I couldn’t say exactly how or what had changed, it just felt less.
‘She’s been doing bits and pieces in here as well,’ said Mr McCoy.
‘I noticed,’ I said.
‘Will you be joining us for tomorrow night’s meeting, Brendan?’ asked Mr McCoy.
‘Oh, definitely,’ I said. ‘It’s incredible the energy I had after the last one. I’d planned on just listening but, I don’t know, sometimes I find it hard to be quiet when it comes to Ronan.’
‘Aye, there’s a lot to shout about when it comes to Ronan, but Brendan, what you said? Flippin’ hell. Emma and me have been talking about it ever since.’
‘Is this the constellation?’ said Mrs McCoy, coming in with mugs and biscuits on a tray and setting it down on the coffee table in front of us. ‘I just love it, Brendan, that was just something you came up with yourself?’
‘Pretty much,’ I said. ‘I was up at Bishop’s Hill one night and I don’t know the names of the constellations or where they are or anything, it’s just a jumble to me. So I made my own constellation. Called it Ronan.’
‘You’re like, what do you call him, Galileo?’ said Mr McCoy.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, laughing. ‘Maybe more like Buzz Lightyear, he’s a bit more of an idiot like me.’
‘Ah, now, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy.
‘No, I don’t really mean that,’ I said, still laughing. ‘But I did feel like a bit of an idiot when that all came out of my mouth because I’m not normally someone who does that kind of thing.’
‘Well, that’s the great thing about the meetings,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘What needs to come out often does. That’s what I’ve been saying to Aaron. You don’t talk about things, Aaron, it’s not good.’
‘No, I know,’ he said. ‘But, my situation’s a bit more complicated, isn’t it? And it’s not the place to be digging things like that up.’
‘With your brother?’ I asked.
‘Aye,’ said Mr McCoy, almost going pale, ‘with my … that brother.’
‘Was he at the funeral?’ I asked.
‘Emma says he was,’ Mr McCoy said, looking down.
‘You know he was there, Aaron,’ said Mrs McCoy.
Mr McCoy looked back up with a tiny flash of annoyance and then let out a sigh before turning to me.
‘Then he was,’ he said, reaching forward to take a swig of tea.
‘Do you think …’ I said cautiously, ‘do you think there will come a time … for you both, I mean …’
‘What? To talk? Or …’
‘Yeah, talk, or …’
‘Aye, no, I’m sure there will be a time of talking.
And then, depending on what’s said, maybe there’ll be a time for doing …
’ Mr McCoy sounded shaky; he cleared his throat as if that would steady him, but his voice still trembled when he continued, ‘… for doing the thing Ronan wanted us to do. Just … not now … not yet … when I’m ready. ’
He sat up straight and turned to his wife as if to say, There, how’s that for a start with this ‘talking about things’ business? and she smiled at him as if to say, Good, a start is all it takes. And me? I took a sip of my tea to let them have their moment.
‘Right,’ said Mr McCoy, sitting forward, ‘I’m not letting this evening become McCoy-centric. Correct me if I’m wrong, Brendan, but it is results day tomorrow?’
‘It is indeed,’ I said with a touch of gloom.
‘Nervous?’ asked Mrs McCoy.
‘I’m not, for some reason,’ I said. ‘Well, actually I suppose there is a reason but I don’t want to say too much at the minute.’
‘Intriguing,’ said Mr McCoy with a comic chin stroke.
‘All I will say is that there’s an opportunity for me,’ I said, ‘and there’s a lot for me to look forward to, even though this year is going to be hard, isn’t it? But I’m going to be carrying Ronan’s constellation with me everywhere I go, every single day.’
‘I think we’ll do the same, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘We need something. Something like that. To get through.’
‘Aye,’ said Mr McCoy. ‘Or at least to get by. And then maybe in time …’
‘Aye,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘In time.’
In time, I said in my head.
‘Mr and Mrs McCoy?’ They looked at me. ‘Can I see Ronan’s bedroom?’