Page 8 of Trying Sophie

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Don’t get me wrong. I understood what he’d asked, just not why.

He glared, unspeaking, for several tense moments.

“Alright, blunt it is,” he finally said and I swallowed, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous he made me.

“How many of those young ladies up in Dublin currently know what sheets you’ve got on your bed?”

Taking in to account that I didn’t bring women back to my place, the answer was an honest zero. That wasn’t what he was asking though.

“None sir. Not currently.”

His silent gaze unnerved me and I found myself offering up more information than I meant to. “It’s been a couple weeks since I … ehm … you know … met someone.”

Colm brought his hand to his chin and rubbed his white whiskers thoughtfully. “None,” he repeated. “And why’s that?”

Did I tell him the truth? I respected Colm and thought of him like family, but there were some things you didn’t discuss with family. Like your sex life or how you’d begun to feel dissatisfied with it. I considered blowing the question off but the appraising look in his eyes gave me pause. What was the old man getting at?

And then a thought jumped into my head that had absolutely no business being there in the first place: did this have something to do with all those talks we’d had about Sophie?

It’d been a couple of months since I’d asked about her but Colm had to know my interest was real. Didn’t he? He must know I respected he and Maureen too damn much to disrespect their granddaughter. Didn’t he? If this line of questioning was about Sophie, honesty was the only route I could take.

“Truthfully sir, it’s …” I began but then struggled to find the words.

I’d only recently pinpointed the reason I was so dissatisfied stemmed from the string of nameless, faceless women I’d hooked up with and saying it out loud proved difficult. Exhaling, I ran my hand through my hair and dropped my eyes to the tattered carpet at my feet.

Then, taking a chance, I blurted out my ugly secret. “I’m tired of the women, sir. They’re just … bodies, not worth the time or effort.”

I looked up and met his penetrating scrutiny. “It’s left me feeling empty. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

My question came out sounding a bit more belligerent than intended, but it had been incredibly difficult to admit out loud the thing I’d kept hidden from everyone.

“Okay then,” he said, rising from of his chair and stretching his hand out in front of him.

I stood as well, confused at what I perceived as a lack of response. Had I said the wrong thing? It was hard to tell since his face gave nothing away. I reached out and took his old, weathered hand in my own. He pumped it twice and nodded.

“You should go talk to my Maureen. She’s got an errand for you to run.”

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