Chapter 5 #2
God help me. I know if we’re all lucky to live long enough, there’ll come a poignant moment in our lives when the parent-child relationship switches but I didn’t think it would be this early because they’re both behaving like toddlers over a video call.
“There,” Mam says, taking the phone from him. “We’re both here and we’re both listening to our darling, disgraced child.”
“You’re not funny,” I tell her, and she mimes zipping her mouth shut. My mother’s sense of humor. Most people don’t know whether to laugh or feel insulted when they meet her.
As they refocus on me, I glance at my planner, where I wrote the day’s one task in large capital letters. “I have some news. More news. Ty—”
Mam gasps. “You got a new job.”
“I… no.”
“You got an interview.”
“No,” I say. “But I will soon,” I add as her face falls. “No, what I wanted to tell you was that unfortunately Tyler and I—”
“You do look a little pale,” Dad interrupts.
“It’s probably the stress,” Mam says to him. “Julie Connolly’s son signed off work from stress. Though if you ask me—”
“We broke up!”
I sit back, waiting for the onslaught. But Dad only frowns.
“The signal’s just fine,” he says. “We had new Wi-Fi installed the other—”
Mam places a hand on his knee, silencing him.
“I mean Tyler and I aren’t together anymore,” I explain. “He broke off the engagement.”
Mam’s expression is carefully neutral. “You’re not engaged?”
“We’re not engaged and we’re not living together. I moved out of his apartment. We’re not getting married.”
Dad crosses his arms over his belly and looks at my mother.
“It’s a little surprising,” she says. “Is this because of what happened at work?”
“No,” I say quickly. “No, come on, Mam.”
“It’s a reasonable question.”
“It’s not like that. He’s not like that.” The looks on their faces tell me they don’t believe that for an instant but I’m not really in the mood to defend him further.
“It’s definitely over?”
I nod, nervous.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her voice softens and for one relieved moment I think that’s it. Then: “You’ve canceled everything? You know how these companies can get with their deposits. I hope you went with refundable choices.”
“We hadn’t booked anything yet. We hadn’t even made any plans other than—”
“You hadn’t booked anything at all?” She sounds personally offended. “You’ve been engaged for months.”
“I was busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Going down with a sinking ship, Mam. I don’t know if you heard the news.”
“There’s no need to get so tetchy.”
“I’m not getting—”
“I didn’t like him,” Dad barks suddenly, making me jump. “I never did. He was too clean.”
I’m lost. “What does that even mean?”
“And the way he paid for dinner that last time we were over,” he says, ignoring me.
“He was trying to be nice.”
“He was being smug,” Dad says. “There’s a way you go about these things. And it’s not brandishing a credit card about like you’re the Queen of Sheba.”
“What happened happened,” Mam says as Dad’s face starts to go red. “Better now than a week after the wedding.”
Better not at all, but I suppose I should appreciate the positive attitude.
“You should have married an Irishman,” Dad continues.
I try to stay patient. “Louise didn’t marry an Irishman.”
“The Polish are grand.”
“You can’t say things like—”
“What was his excuse?” Dad interrupts. “Some other girl is it?”
“He wanted to focus on his career.”
“And he can’t do that with a wife at home?”
“Dad!”
“A wife in the office then.”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” I groan, rubbing my face.
Mam’s eyes drift to the right, getting that look that means she’s thinking hard about something. “We’ll come back.”
I stare at the screen. “No.”
“Just until you’re back on your feet.”
“I’m on my feet!” I say, beginning to panic. “I’m fine!”
“Your Aunt Ellen rents out a room in Dublin. I’m sure you could stay with her. She’s fed up with those students.”
“I’m not moving back.”
“Well, obviously not to Clonard ,” she says. “I can only imagine how that would sit with your sister. But Dublin will be fine. You could—”
“I’m not moving to Ireland at all,” I interrupt. “This is just temporary. I’m going home in a few weeks.”
Mam looks confused. “Without Tyler?”
“ Yes. I wasn’t in New York because of Tyler. I moved there before him.”
“I know that,” she says. “But you said you’re no longer living together.”
“Yes. I mean, no, we’re not but—”
“And you don’t have an apartment or you wouldn’t be with your sister.”
“No, but—”
“And you don’t have a job!” she finishes. “So why be so far from the people who can support you?”
“It’s not that far,” I protest. “And I have people there. I have friends.”
“But what if this happens again, hmm? You’re much better off back here where we can look after you. What does Louise think?”
“I haven’t told her yet.”
“What was that?” She leans into the screen. “Don’t speak with your hand in front of your mouth, Abby. No one can hear you.”
I drop my fingers to my lap. “I said I haven’t told her yet.”
Mam looks aghast. “She doesn’t know you’re homeless?”
“I’m not home —”
But she’s already reaching for her phone. “I’ll call your aunt.”
“No, don’t. Mam.” I clap my hands to get her attention. “I’m going to talk to her. Stop freaking out.”
“I’m allowed to be worried about my daughter, Abby.”
“Not when there’s nothing to be worried about.” I straighten as the front door shuts below. Louise and Tomasz are back from their walk. “I’m fine. I’ve got everything under control. I’m just visiting her until I can get something new.”
“But you said it was impossible to get anything at the moment.”
“No,” I correct. “I said it was hard at the moment. They also told me it was hard to get into the top colleges and hard to get into the top graduate schemes and hard to work such long hours but I did, didn’t I?”
“Abby—”
“Didn’t I?”
Mam sighs. “Yes. You did. And we are so proud of you for that, but this is different.”
“It’s not,” I say. “I’m still me. I’ll find a way. Look, I have to go. Don’t say anything to Louise. We need to have a proper conversation about it and I haven’t found the right moment for it yet. I love you guys. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“We love you too,” Mam says. “And of course you’ll figure it out. But know that we’re here to help you.”
“I do.” I glance at my father, who’s still glaring at something off camera. “Dad?”
“You should never have dated a lawyer,” he says, carrying on a different conversation.
“I’ll remember that for next time. I’m hanging up now. I’ll call soon.”
“Abby?”
I pause, one hand on the lid of the laptop, one ear listening out for Louise. “Yeah?”
“Just…” Mam looks so worried that it almost breaks my heart. “Mind yourself,” she says eventually.
“I will.” I wave goodbye, ending the call. I’ll try.