Page 49 of Back in the Saddle

“Mam, Ciaron’s home,” the older boy yelled.

Footsteps rushed towards us. “About time. Where have you been?”

I took the time to study her. She was tall and slim with dyed blonde hair. Her cheeks were flushed. She continued to talk as she made her way down the hall. “Tommy needs help with his homework, and Ronan needs to be picked up from practice. I can’t do everything.”

My jaw clenched. It was her job to look afterherchildren, not Ciaron’s. I held my tongue. It was hard.

Ciaron’s hand stiffened. His whole body stiffened. In three days, I’d never seen him so tense, even with my father. I squeezed his hand, and he relaxed.

His mother stopped short when she saw me. A hint of alcohol wafted in the air. She smoothed down her black top and then widened her eyes at Ciaron.

“Mam, this is Taylor. Taylor, my mam, Mary.”

“Nice to meet you, Mary.”

“Is that where you’ve been for three days?” Mary said, staring pointedly at me. “What about work?”

I moved closer to Ciaron. Obviously, Mary didn’t think it was nice to meet me.

“I spoke to work. I had some time owing to me.”

She grunted. “You spoke to work, but you couldn’t manage to speak to me.”

“The phone has been disconnected,” Ciaron said. “I’m not sure why since I gave you money for it last week.”

She scowled “Don’t f?—.”

“Ciaron wanted me to meet you before I left,” I said, interrupting her. “We’ll be getting married in Australia.”

We hadn’t really spoken about when we were going to get married. I didn’t actually think he was serious until he’d got a tattoo with my name. So we discussed that he was going to apply for a passport and as soon as he got it, he’d be selling his car and buying a one-way plane ticket.

Ciaron smiled down at me.

“Married?” Mary asked.

I moved closer to Ciaron and put my arm around his waist. I wanted to say ‘so he can get away from you’ but instead said, “Yes.”

“That’s cause for celebration, I suppose,” she said. She gazed up at him and stroked his hair, not caring that her arm was in my face. Ciaron’s brothers stared at her before screwing their faces up. As she turned to walk down the hallway, she looked back over her shoulder and gave me a smile. It felt like I’d been slapped in the face with slime.

We followed her into the kitchen/dining room. There was a table squished into the corner. Ciaron directed me to a seat as his mother got some glasses out, poured Guinness into them, and put them on the table. Ciaron went to sit in the seat next to me, but Mary shoved one of the brothers into it. She pulled Ciaron away to the other end of the table to sit next to her.Ciaron’s brothers asked me lots of questions while she sat there tight-lipped and rigid.

I had no doubt that she’d try to convince him to change his mind right until he hopped on that flight. I wondered if his father would be the same. We were going to visit him next.

Mary hadn’t beenable to change his mind. He was in Australia working with Mum and me on the farm within two months. He’d moved half a world away to be with me and I should have been more appreciative.

Enough with taking him for granted. Not just for the things he did everyday but for him. For the man he was, the man who loved us, his kindness, his humility. Him.

17

Ciaron

We sat in the lounge room, resting after our day touring. The kids had wanted to show Mam their school and some of the other studs. We’d had lunch out as well. Mam seemed shocked at our isolation. I didn’t notice it. We had everything we needed close by and more shops within half an hour. We didn’t need everything a city like Dublin had.

She was happy when the bottle shop stocked her favourite beer. I guess that made up for our living in the country.

It was important to spend local, especially in times of natural disasters like a drought. It’s what kept the community going. We all needed each other. If these businesses closed, we’d need to travel further and we’d lose connection. Farmers and businesses may not see each other on a daily, weekly or even monthly basis, but if help was needed, we’d be there for one another.

“What time will Taylor get home?” Mam asked. She’d seemed to pick up that this was a sore point. Maybe she’d seen Isabelle’s response to it yesterday. She’d also mentioned something earlier in the day to gauge our reactions.

---