Page 9 of Heart Strings
In “Boys Don’t Cry” Robert Smith admits that he’d apologize if only she would accept it. But Smith doesn’t say he’s sorry. Just like I never have. Lo would never apologize for prioritizing her career. I won’t, either. Especially not when my family so desperately needed the money.
“You know things were complicated.” It’s not really an answer as to why I played that song.
Rerouting from the messy topic, she gently asks, “How’s your family?”
“Well, Fionn’s an eejit, as usual.”
“He sounded good on the drum.”
“Mam and Da are enjoying the garden at the new house.”
“And Marie?”
I scratch my arm. Lo and I dated during Marie’s cancer treatment. They’d bonded so quickly over that. “She’s grand. She’s in her last year of secondary school now. Still in remission.”
“I think about her all the time, you know.”
It slips out easily, not like the rest of her carefully chosen words, as if her tongue has betrayed her. Loud and clear, I hear the subtext along with them: that she thinks of me, too. Against her better judgment.
“Marie asks about you sometimes.”
Cielo blocked my entire family on social media when we broke up and abandoned her old account for good measure. I stopped checking it long ago.
“I’m glad to hear she’s doing well,” she responds, all too diplomatically. She won’t allow any more slipups.
“I—” My mouth shuts in an uncharacteristic bout of uncertainty, and I knead my palms. “I thought we could talk about the hen and stag do.”
Lo looks me up and down icily. “I’m listening.”
“I got Callum a hooker.”
I mean one of the local, rust-red sailboats. Callum would probably rather get a public colonoscopy than a lap dance. I dig out my wallet and hand her a business card that readsThe Happy Hooker: Sailboat Tours for Stag Parties.
She doesn’t even twitch a smile before handing it back. “I already have something planned for Lark.” Cielo would be an absolute terror at a poker table.
“Callum told me they want to do a joint party. Come on,” I reason. “Callum loves those yokes, but I don’t think he’s ever been out on one.”
“So, you’re thinking a group sailing tour instead of a typical bachelor party?”
“Yeah, one of those things where they take you around the bay and teach you how to tie a couple knots and let you sail the boat a little.”
“Well, it’s not a terrible idea. Have fun.”
My brows furrow. “Why do you say it like that?”
“I think it’s a fine idea. Knock yourself out.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’ll be busy with the real bachelorette party. Hen party, whatever it’s called. We’re doing a booze cruise.”
“They wanted a group thing, not two separate ones.”
“Lark didn’t mention that to me. And we already have to spend enough time together. A whole weekend. At the rehearsal dinner. And the ceremony. And the reception.” One by one, she ticks off the events with her fingers, then lifts them up and shakes her whole hand. “I’m jazzed.”
“There’s no way you’d miss your cousin’s hen do.”
“You don’t know me anymore. And Lark didn’t say anything about wanting her hen do to be with Callum,” Lo snaps, before ripping another bite off her kebab.
