Page 36 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“Are you back?” I can’t miss the underlying worry in his tone. Worry over what exactly?

“I’m standing outside Ma’s house. I need the code for the walk-in gates.”

“You’re outside the house? Right now?” His worry encroaches on disbelief. What the fuck is going on?

“That’s what I just said, brother. Now, it’s freezing, so I’d appreciate you giving me the code so I can get inside.”

“I’ll message it to you now.”

My phone vibrates, letting me know it’s been received, and I key in the digits.

“We weren’t expecting you, Paddy. You never mentioned anything.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, it’s definitely that.”

I get the distinct impression that it’s not being seen as a good one.

I approach the mansion-like property, striding up the driveway and welcoming the familiar sound of gravel crunching under my feet.

I can’t help but feel deflated at the lack of warm reception. I thought Dylan would be full of questions or at least have given me a sign that he was happy about my return.

Instead, his stilted responses are having the opposite effect. They’re making me feel like I’m about to rock the boat and disturb the sea of peace and tranquility they’ve all created for themselves in my absence.

Would they rather I not have returned? Would they rather I turn around, go back to Sicily, and continue to exist on my own?

It's clearly been a case of out of sight and mind, but then what did I expect? I can’t cut off communications then expect them to welcome my unexpected return with open arms. It’s been a year. Everyone has moved on. It’s just me who’s been stagnating.

“Paddy, there’s something you should know.”

I force a laugh. “I’m sure there’s plenty I should know, Dyl, but I’ll worry about all that tomorrow. I’m fucked. I just want to let our parents know that I’m back.”

That I’m still alive.That I’m still existing.

“Anyway, I’m outside the front door. I’ll give you a call on the way back. And can you sort out my old cell number? I’d like to switch back now that I’ve returned to New York.”

More hesitation. Why?

“Will do, brother.”

As I disconnect the call, I notice the two cars outside. Ma doesn’t have her own, as Liam drives her everywhere. Da always has a Duster SUV at home, just in case, which accounts for one of the vehicles. Why are there two parked up? Do they have visitors?

I’m tempted to flee back to my apartment. Unlike the Paddy of old, I’m not in the mood for being the center of attention or being expected to spin a joke at every turn.

I attempt to open the front door, surprised to find it locked. It’s never locked unless everyone is already in bed, but they can’t be as the lights are still on inside. I press the bell and wait. Not ten seconds later, the door is flung open.

His hair is whiter, and he looks older, but aside from that, he’s the same. I smile at my da.

“Padraig.” A whispered voice as a myriad of emotions crosses his face, the marred forehead he ends up wearing letting me know that the negatives far outweigh the positives. His look matches Dylan’s worried, less than receptive responses.

He’s clearly pleased but not pleased that I’m back, the frown he’s wearing letting me know that the arrow is swinging more toward the latter.

I guess my turning up unannounced hasn’t given them any time to prepare.Prepare for what?

He stares at me like he’s wondering what to do with me. Like he can’t even decide whether or not to invite me into my own family home. I feel my nose tingling as my emotions threaten to get the better of me.

Is it wrong that I expected more? That I needed more? That after twelve months of being a nobody, I wanted to feel like a somebody again? That I wanted to feel important? To someone. To fucking anyone.

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