Page 94 of The Irish Redemption

“I love you too.”

38

CORMAC

It’s been years since I last set foot on Irish soil. The last time I was here, it was for a similar reason to why I’m here now.

To say goodbye.

With Evie’s hand in mine, I climb the steps up to a white front door and press the buzzer. The noise jolts through me, setting my heart off-rhythm, and Evie clasps our joined hands in her other hand in silent comfort.

The home where my father stays is quite nice at a glance. A beautiful garden for the residents to spend their time, cozy bedrooms that they can decorate themselves, a games room with everything from cards to board games, and even a safe kitchen for those still eager to try a little cooking. Everything looks exactly as I remember as we’re led through the home to one of the sitting rooms near the back of the building.

“How has he been?” I ask the man escorting us.

“Conor is an absolute pleasure to be around,” he replies. “Keeps his head down, never causes a fuss. He’s very partial to a raspberry trifle.” He chuckles as he holds open the door. “Take all the time you need.”

I walk in first with Evie by my side. Cian and Saoirse walk silently at my back, less inclined to see our father in such a position. It’s hard for them—it’s hard for all of us. Ma stayed back at the farm because she couldn’t handle looking into the eyes of the man she loved and not seeing that love returned. I don’t blame her.

My father sits near the window, engrossed in an old book with thick spectacles hanging from his crooked nose. He wears the same cardigan I saw him in last, and he taps one foot along to the radio playing nearby. He looks every bit my father and my chest aches painfully. My grip tightens further on Evie’s hand until I realize it’s probably too tight and break the contact.

“Dad?” I approach him slowly. He doesn’t react. “Conor? Conor Gifford?”

Only then does he lift his head. He peers over the top of his glasses, looking at me as if I’m a stranger. There isn’t a hint of recognition in those eyes but he does lower his book.

“Dad? It’s me, Cormac. Your son. Do you… do you remember me?”

Dad looks me over, then his lips press into a firm, frail line. “You have the wrong person.” He returns to his book.

“I’m sorry,” Saoirse says behind me. As I turn, she takes her leave and Cian follows a moment later. I half want to follow them, but I came here for a reason. Moving closer to my dad, I sit on the small stool nearby and rest my elbows atop my knees.

“Dad, I have to tell you something important and it’s not going to be easy.”

He lowers his book again and looks at me as if I’m bothering him. It’s a look I grew up with as a child and it’s painfully familiar. Cotton forms in my throat and I swallow hard.

“Boy,” he says sharply, and the nerves down my back jump. But forsome reason, he doesn’t continue. He just watches me, so I take my chance.

“Dad, do you remember Brenden? Your son? He was older than me by just a couple of years. You used to always yell at him for climbing in the orchard, said it would affect the harvest and then each spring, he would get the first bite of the sourest apples.”

Dad doesn’t respond.

“Well, he…” Suddenly, words become impossible. Then Evie’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Dad, I’m really sorry to tell you this but Brenden… he passed away. He’s gone. But he was a good man, Dad. You would have been so proud of him. I know you would.”

The words don’t sound like they’re coming from me. It’s like another voice has taken over in an attempt to reach my father, and my heart thumps painfully.

Then my father reaches out. He places a frail hand on my arm and squeezes suddenly. Tears instantly spring into my eyes.

“You look sad, Son,” he says. “Go and speak to Mabel. She’ll cheer you right up!”

His touch is painfully familiar, even if his words speak of unfamiliarity. Suddenly, when our eyes meet, I feel at peace. It’s as if some part of him understands what I’m trying to tell him, and that is the part that reached out. He leans back, returning to his book, and I give him my strongest smile.

“I’ll do that.” I sniffle, gathering myself. “Thanks, Dad. Also, this is Evie. She’s my girlfriend.”

Dad glances up at her and smiles. “What a bonnie lass.”

“Aye. She is.” I stand and loop my arm around Evie. “Love you, Da.”

He doesn’t respond, but I don’t need him to. I came here and did what I needed to do, and I’m certain he understood. Somehow.

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