Chapter 10 #2
“Abby?” Luke appears to my left, carrying a crate of supplies and looking at me as though I’ve grown two heads. “Where’s Beth?”
“Peeing,” I say without thinking before I turn back to the man. “Hygienically peeing. And then washing her hands.”
Luke makes an “oh God ” face and puts the crate down.
“Sorry about that,” Luke says in a cheerful voice he never uses with me. “What can I get you?”
I stand awkwardly to the side as he makes the man’s drink. And then two more for the woman after him and then a hot chocolate for an already sugar-crazed child before finally there’s a break in the line and we’re alone again.
“Beth asked me to mind the place,” I say when he turns to me. “Who’s looking after the café?”
“Ollie.”
“Right.” I watch as he does something complicated-looking with the machine. He’s dressed for the cold in a beanie and a fitted black fleece. Tightly fitted. Tightly fitted and— “I’m here with Louise,” I add before I start staring.
“You don’t have to hang around.”
“I know. But this stall is much nicer than her one.” Though just as frosty. I glance about, looking for something to do. “Do you need—”
“How are you keeping, Mike?”
I fight back a sigh as he calls out to a passerby.
“Luke,” the man greets, stopping near the table. “Not bad. Busy this morning?”
“Busy enough. The usual is it?”
“Ah, sure I’ve already had my cup today.”
“Only one?” Luke begins to make the drink before Mike can say anything further. “Brenda here too?” he asks.
“Yeah, go on. Make hers a decaf though,” Mike adds with a frown. “And I better get her one of those scones as well. She’ll say she doesn’t want it but then guess who’ll be in trouble for not getting one.”
“Always the way. I’ll just—”
He breaks off when I step up beside him, using the tongs to slip one of the large raspberry scones into a paper bag like the little helper I am.
“You’re good at that,” I say when the man goes.
Luke shrugs, rifling through a box for more cups. “It’s just talking to people.”
“That can be harder than it sounds. Did you ever think about going into sales?”
“Nope.”
Nope . I twirl the tongs in my hand, losing my patience. “So you’re not going to look at me now, is that it?”
“I’m tired, Abby. Okay? I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“This?”
“You.”
Our eyes meet briefly but before I can snap back, I realize with some surprise that he does look tired.
And not in the dark circles, bloodshot eyes, always yawning kind of way.
His movements are a little slow, his frown lines more pronounced.
He sounds tired too. His words not mean, more just brutally honest. When I don’t respond he turns back to the crate, unloading stacks of branded paper cups and I know I should just leave him to it but I don’t want to.
“Up studying?” I try again. “You’re doing a physiotherapy course, right?”
“Year two of two. It’s an accelerated MSc one so…”
“A lot,” I finish. “Did you do it for your undergrad as well? I’m being polite,” I add before he can ignore me again. “I’m making an effort and I’m being polite.”
His lips twitch in the barest hint of a smile but I’ll take it.
“I did science,” he says. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with it until a few years ago.” He knocks back an espresso shot and starts making another. “We don’t all have it figured out at seventeen, I guess.”
“Do you want to open your own practice?”
“Maybe.” He hesitates, as if trying to decide how much to tell me. Luckily for me, with a mother like Susan, the man was trained to be polite. “I’ve been looking at sports medicine as well.”
“Really? That’s cool. I don’t remember you playing sports when we were younger.”
“That’s because I didn’t. It wasn’t until I got to college.”
“I’m a runner. Not competitively or anything but Tyler and I used to—”
Ah, crap.
Luke’s jaw tightens at Tyler’s name but before I can rescue the situation, Beth dips back under the tent. “Sorry! Line for the toilets was manic . That juice they’re giving out must be going through everyone. I think I saw your sister,” she adds to me. “She was yelling at an old woman?”
“That sounds like Louise.” I shrug out of my apron, handing it back to her.
Luke passes her the tongs as she bounds up next to him and I watch as he pulls playfully on her apron strap. They fall instantly into easy movements around each other, used to working closely, and I realize once again I’ve become the third wheel.
“Do you want something?” Beth asks, gesturing to the machine.
I shake my head. “I should get back to my sister. Before all the cetaceans die out.”
“The what?”
“Thanks for stepping in,” Luke says shortly as a customer approaches.
Beth glances between us, starting to frown, but I squeeze back around the counter before she can say anything more.
“Have a busy day,” I call, my voice unnaturally bright even to my ears.
In a determinedly worse mood, I drop off the remaining leaflets at some stalls near the front, procrastinating before I make my way back to my sister.
I find her sitting alone in the tent, not even bothering to try and win over visitors as she scrolls dejectedly through her phone.
Tomasz isn’t there, probably off to get more juice shots and I pause beside a stall selling pasta sauce and sock puppets as I watch her.
She looks as tense as she always does, as if furious at everyone else for not seeing how the world is collapsing around them.
Or for just not caring when she cares so much.
You could help her.
Tomasz’s words come back to me and with it the familiar guilt I’ve felt over the past few weeks. Maybe we’re just too alike. Too stubborn for our own good.
But I also know I never tried with her, using the excuse that she never tried with me.
If anything, I enjoyed riling her up. Going in the opposite direction just to annoy her.
Which is fine when you’re six years old and fighting over the television, but not so much when you’re both adults and you’re all each other has.
And that’s it, isn’t it? She’s my sister. My only sister. And if I didn’t have her to turn to right now, I don’t know where I’d be.
She puts her phone down, standing with an expectant look as she grabs her clipboard. Break over. But I turn on my heel before she can see me, almost tripping into the pasta sauce display as I head back to the forest where Andrew still stands, overseeing his kingdom.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I say, depositing ten euro in coins on the table. “I’d like to enter the Easter egg hunt.”
“We’ve closed entrants.”
Oh.
“Closed at three,” he continues, checking the sign up forms.
“But that was five minutes ago.”
“Which doesn’t make it any less true.”
“But I want to—”
“Closed.”
“Andrew, this is a family emergency.” My hands go to my hips as a short line forms behind me. “And this is a family event. Are you seriously going to stop me, a paying attendee of the Clonard Easter Family Fun Day, from entering the Clonard Easter Family Fun Day Easter Egg Hunt just because—”
“Why is it that at every village celebration there is a Reynolds sister around to ruin my day?”
“Andrew!”
“Fine,” he snaps. “Join the hunt, just keep your voice down.” He smiles cheerfully at some wide-eyed children in the petting zoo beside us and shoves a signup page toward me. “Who’s your partner?”
“My what?”
He sighs loudly. “You can only enter in a pair.”
“Since when?”
He drops his voice. “We had a child go missing one year, only for a few minutes, mind you. She was found safe and sound but her parents threatened to sue and now I have to print out waiver forms. Also I’ll need you to sign a waiver form.”
“I’m an adult. I don’t need a partner. I’m not going to wander off and get lost.”
“I don’t make the rules, Abby.”
“Yes, you do!”
“I’m sure there’s some introverted child who doesn’t have a friend you can pair with.”
“But—”
“I’ll do it with you.”
I freeze at the familiar voice and glance over my shoulder to see Luke standing right behind me.
“There now,” Andrew says as I stare at him. “Thank you, Luke. It’s nice to see you taking part for once.”
“I don’t need a partner,” I repeat, turning back to him.
Andrew glares at me. “No partner. No egg. No money.”
“Not that pairing with me will give you much luck there,” Luke says, stepping past me to sign the form. “This will be the fifth year in a row without anyone winning the grand prize.” He frowns thoughtfully. “Almost like it’s impossible to find.”
“Yes, well. It wouldn’t be any fun if it were easy now, would it?” Andrew doesn’t meet his gaze, fumbling with the microphone. “Don’t forget to take a basket.”
“You don’t have to do this with me,” I say to Luke as Andrew starts calling people to the edge of the woods.
“I could really use the money.”
“So could I.” And the last thing I need is to be distracted by him. “Unemployed and broke, remember?”
“Graduate student living in a studio apartment with no heating.”
I ignore him and take a map from the table, examining the cartoon drawing of the forest and the winding paths interlocking inside it. A dozen clues are listed on the side for spot prizes. The last one is for a golden egg, which doesn’t have any clue at all. You just have to find it, simple as that.
I can already picture it, emerging from the tree in a blaze of triumph.
I’ll give the money to Louise and then I’ll be the good sister and when she’s drowning in gratitude I’ll simply tell her that the wedding is canceled and, oh, by the way, I might be staying here a little while longer while I— “Hey!”
Luke plucks the map from my hand as Andrew blares a novelty horn that makes a child near me start to cry.
“Shouldn’t you be at the stall?” I ask as the rest of the participants run into the forest.
“Beth kicked me out,” he says, examining the clues. He looks a little more awake now, probably from the five shots of coffee he just had. “I’m not supposed to come back until I apologize to you. Apparently I’m in a mood again.”
“Well, apology accepted. You’re free to— That’s my map!”
Luke walks off without waiting for me and I’m forced to run after him, grabbing one of the small wicker baskets as I go, following him into the woods.