Page 76 of Since We're Here
PATRICK
Saturday, 15 March
Ilean against the counter in Mam’s kitchen drying a pot, trying to ignore the uncomfortable twist in my stomach. I might’ve been a bit too rough in the game this morning when I aggressively blocked a shot on goal and one of the other team’s midfielders got a ball to the face and a bloody nose. We have a few weeks off now, which is a relief as the weather’s been absolute bollocks. And the teams in town are all sick of us winning.
Deep down I knew it unlikely, but I’d hoped that Maddie would come to watch. But she didn’t.
I have the girls in a bit, so I can’t show up during her shift to apologize or charm her. I’m not a charming man, anyway. I’m tempted to invite her over to the cottage when she’s off. The girls would love to spend more time with Maddie. They seem to have the same goal as my sister—to force me to find a girlfriend.
But I have rules: no women at the cottage, and no women around Erin and Niamh, no matter how much they ask. It’s too personal. Too close.
“You’re dismissed.” Mam takes the pot from my hands. “I think that’s dry enough.”
“Mam?”
Her eyes flick to mine briefly. I’m so lucky to have this life. To live so close to my family after a dream career in professional soccer, and now I run a bar and a brewery. What more could I want?
“Yes?” She pauses in her squat to reach the lower cabinets, and I take the pot back from her and do it myself.
“When we were little, and you and Dad went through that rough patch...” I close the cabinet door and stand.
Mam patiently waits for me to continue.
“How did you get through it?” I lean against the counter and keep my eyes trained on my mother.
“You’ve never asked that before.” She picks up a dish towel and mindlessly wipes the wet counter next to the sink. “I didn’t know you remembered.”
“I know.” I should’ve asked earlier. How could I not have? Maybe there’s a secret here. A secret to how not to permanently break important relationships.
“I’d been unhappy, felt so swallowed up in childcare and housework.” There’s a faraway look in her eyes. “So your dad and I figured out a plan. I started working part-time. And when we were both home, we’d split the cleaning and the childcare. Right down the middle.”
“Hmm.” I do remember that. I thought it was normal for Dad to be just as involved in our lives as Mam, but eventually realized it was different for most of my mates.
“At the time, it was a big deal. Things are different now, thankfully. None of my friends could believe my husband was home cleaning the toilets. But he was.”
“And that’s why you started working at the travel agency?” For as long as I could remember, Mam would sit at the deskclosest to the window at the one now-closed travel agency downtown and talk to people about their vacations. I always wondered why she didn’t just work at the brewery with Dad.
“Exactly. I needed to have my own separate life.” She drops the towel on the counter and takes one of my hands. “But it takes two committed people to make that happen. Cara was rubbish for you. She treated you terribly. She was not the one.”
I blink rapidly. Mam never talks badly about Cara and Liam’s family or New Dingle Brewing. It’s driven me crazy for years.
“It was her fault. You were committed,a stór.But that’s not enough. She wasn’t enough for you.”
I try to respond, but the words stick in my throat, and my heart squeezes at her calling mea stór, the term of endearment she used when I was a child.
“I did my fair share of convincing your dad not to sell Slea Head to that damn family.” Her voice has a bite to it. “They can piss right off.”
“Mam,” I say with a laugh. “I agree, of course.”
“Now this American girl? When do I get to meet her?” Mam releases my hand.
I groan. “She’s only in town for a few more weeks.”
And I’ve probably ruined that time for us.
“We’ll see. Now go sit on the couch with your father. He’s exhausted from cleaning the bathrooms this morning.” She winks at me.
“Hey, Mam?” I pause at the door to the kitchen.
