Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance (28 page)

What the hell is wrong with me?
A nagging voice started in her head.
You are starting to fall in love with this family. So? So, it hurts to feel again. It hurts to put yourself in a position where you could be hurt again.

Cass was clever enough to psychoanalysis herself, against her mothers’ orders of course. Her mother would say that self-analysis was the root of many a misdiagnoses. Cass sat in the back holding Rory’s hand and stared out of the window as the now familiar sights of the castle and the river O’Garney as they passed by. She looked at the crowd drinking on the bench seats outside Nellies pub. American tour buses parked around the woollen mills, eager to spend money on trinkets and souvenirs. Ready to walk to the folk park entrance, to step back in time into their past, their heritage, where the small replica cottages of their ancestral homes held stories of lives gone by and the hardships suffered.

Other cars reached the road at the same time and granny O’Malley reached over to Gearóid's drivers’ side and beeped the horn.

“What is she doing?”

“It’s tradition,” Rory said placing her hand to his lips.

“We are letting everyone know that we won.”

(
Cass
)

May you live as long as you want,

And never want, as long as you live.

Irish proverb

B
ack at the O’Malley’s, the house was bustling in preparation for the Christmas eve dinner. Christmas eve was always a big event in the O’Malley household like most houses in rural Ireland. The whole family joined in, peeling the spuds were left to Gearóid and the granny. Louisa was preparing vegetables. Annie was making a tart for dessert with the twins helping her to roll the pastry, moaning all the time about the hardness of the apples. Darragh was gone for the day, off to help a farmer who needed help moving some cattle.

Louisa put her hand on Cass’ shoulder.

“Would you mind going out to the horse barn Cass and seeing if Aoife’s around? Tell her dinners in an hour, thanks lovey.”

Cass pulled on a pair of red wellies that Annie had loaned her and moved outside pulling her coat up around her neck to fight off the cold. Her breath came out in white plumes and she pulled her hat down further over her ears. Rory came into the kitchen and looked around.

“Where’s Cass gone?”

“I sent her out to talk to Aoife.”

“I’ll go out to them.”

“You won’t. Sit yourself down Ror, let them talk it out.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Louisa said.

“They need to talk and you need to let them at it. Here, shell these peas, keep your hands busy for a while.” Louisa plonked a big bucket of peas in front of him. She stroked his hair gently.

“There are some things out of your control, son. Cass is a capable girl. You need to let the woman breathe a bit. Stop smothering her. She’s well able to handle it and she needs this. Aoife too.”

Rory nodded and sat down in front of the big wooden table. Mama was right, it was time to let Cass and Aoife find their own way.

“Anyway we’ve visitors coming,” Louisa winked at him.

“What visitors?”

“You’ll see. They’ll be here soon. Go on and go with dad. He’ll show you.”

Cass opened the barn door and moved silently through the stables. Each one was occupied by a horse eager for affection and a rub on its nose.

She stopped at the last one and saw Aoife gently combing the mane of a beautiful small white pony.

“This is misty,” Aoife said not turning around.

“She’s beautiful, is she yours?” said Cass.

“She is and a more beautiful and gentle girl you couldn’t meet. She’s not for riding anymore, she’s twenty two now. She was my best friend as a child. My dad bought her for me at the sales when I was little. She was only a baby then, just a little foal.”

“We used to ride too, at home in Devon, Harry and I. Although, he was always better than me. Then again Harry was better than me at most things. Being an annoying brother, he was super good at that.” Cass smiled at the memory.

Aoife kept her eyes on Misty’s mane. “Do you hate me Cass?”

“Heavens, no. Why would I hate you, Aoife?”

“I hate myself sometimes, you know. I’d understand if you feel the same. I prayed for it, do you know that? I prayed that someone who died would be my match. I asked God to give me new lungs. I never even thought about who it would be. That they were a real person, with a family and friends who loved them. That they had to really die, for me to live. How selfish is that?”

Cass stood awkwardly as tears fell from Aoife's face and splashed on the ground rising as white steam. She moved forward and put her hand on Aoife’s back.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry Aoife.”

“Tell me about Harry, Cass. Tell me about what happened. Please.”

Cass sat on an old crate beside her and picked up part of the bridle and the saddle soap and started to clean it with a wet sponge.

“The two boys had stood no chance. A drunk driver had come out of nowhere, speeding, on the wrong side of the road. Matt, Harry’s friend was killed instantly. Harry, as stubborn and hard-headed as always, lingered on for two weeks, before we made the decision to let him go.”

Cass watched Aoife, she had her eyes closed. She watched as she digested the words little frown lines appearing on her forehead.

“We practically lived in the hospital during those two weeks and sat by his bedside. We talked to him and amongst ourselves, about everything, you know?

Stupid things, Christmas’ and birthdays we had shared.  Little snapshots of everything that was important to us. I lay beside him on the bed and watched ‘Pretty in Pink’ and ‘The Breakfast Club.’ Harry loved 80’s movies. We used to watch them all the time together, he loved Molly Ringwald.” Cass smiled at the memory.

“Oh we fought for him, we fought the doctors tooth and nail. Our Harry was a fighter Aoife, always. This time, we had to accept that he wasn’t strong enough to win.”

Cass stopped for a second not able to continue. She felt Aoife squeeze her hand and nodded at her smiling and crying at the same time.

  “On the last day, each of us said our goodbyes one by one. I remember closing my eyes outside the room. I heard my dad’s low voice mumble and then it changed to this high pitched pleading, noises I didn’t recognise. He was broken. We all were. I didn’t mind though. I liked feeling broken. At least it was feeling something. That way I knew I was still alive. Each person plays a different role in the lives of each other. It only becomes clear as we lose them, what they mean and how much we loved them and felt them and breathed them. I didn’t think I could live without Harry.

And then it was my turn. To let him go. And now, when I think back, I wish that I could have said so much more. I remember I touched his hair and smelled his skin. I sat there and cried, holding his still warm hand. I took my phone and took a picture of his hand, a picture of the lines across his palm. I kissed his face and wiped off my tears as they splashed into his closed mouth. I wanted to open his windows and scream to the world to do something. This person, this great person was leaving, dying and nothing was changing. The sky should have been falling. You know?” Aoife nodded at her.

Cass stood up and moved away from Aoife. She felt so angry and didn’t want Aoife to see or feel it and take it on board. It was not anger at her. Just at life in general and death and every shitty thing that went with both.

“I hated that day, every second of it. I wanted a fucking hurricane to lift us all up in the air and smash us against something. Instead, on that day, the day the machines stopped beeping and breathing for him, it was calm. Just so still.

The sun was shining on one of those weirdly sunny spring days that are so random they are worth mentioning. People were mulling around in shorts and tee shirts soaking up the sun and generally being disgustingly happy. The room was stuffy and the windows were closed. I remember opening them just to take a breath that wasn’t stale or filled with death.

I could hear children outside running around and stood for a few minutes watching these little children, in the playground of the school across the road from the hospital. I’m ashamed to say it Aoife, but I hated them. At the moment, I hated their joy and their lives and the light that shone in their little hearts. Free from the hurt and pain that was consuming me only a stones throw away from them.

I was tired of not sleeping and waiting for any change, any movement or flicker. Just one small sign that Harry was still inside, though we knew he wasn’t.”

Aoife held her hand and rubbed it against her face softly. Cass wiped her eyes and let out a long breath.

“There was nothing there. Harry had already gone; he was just a shell of what he had been. His body like an empty conch shell, with just the whisper of its occupant left as a distant memory and a cruel reminder of what once was. Aoife, Harry was the most amazing person I have ever known. He loved life and lived every day to the fullest. He would have been so happy to know that he gave you back your life. He would have felt nothing but love for you Aoife. And he would have respected you too. You have been through more in your life that most of us will ever know.”

“Do…do you really believe that Cass?”

“One hundred per cent, Aoife. Harry would have wanted you to live and to be happy. Seeing you, somehow keeps him alive. A part of him still lives inside you. If Harry had never donated his lungs and if you hadn’t been the same crazy weird blood type as us, we would never have met. And I never would have met Rory and the rest of your lovely family.”

Cass wiped her eyes and found that tears were streaming down her face too.

“I think it was a gift you know. A gift from Harry to you and a gift to me too. I could never hate you, Aoife. It would be like hating Harry and hating myself. The person who killed Harry was an old man who had drank a shitload of gin and then decided to drive the wrong way down the road. I don’t hate him either anymore; he made a stupid mistake that cost him his life and the lives of two young boys. I can’t forgive him yet. But, I don’t hate him, Aoife. There is no room in our lives for hate. That’s what my mum taught me. If you hate, it consumes you, just as much as love does. It finds its way into every pour and every fibre, it settles there until you lose the parts of yourself that made you human.”

She passed a tissue to Aoife who blew her nose loudly. Aoife rustled around in the pocket of her jacket.

“Your mum wrote me a beautiful letter. She sounds lovely. She wants to meet me. Do you think I should?”

“My mum is a sweetheart; you would be doing her a big favour by meeting her. She lost her only son and finding out that three years later there is a beautiful young woman in Ireland living a new life because of Harry, has made her so happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You are one of us now Aoife. An O’Malley, with a little bit of Evans thrown in.” Cass hugged her warmly and felt Aoife relax and sag against her. They were both crying heavily and stayed like that until they heard Darragh clearing his throat outside the stable door.

“Are you all right girls? Will I get Mama for you?”

Aoife, looked at Cass and they both started laughing.

Darragh, shook his head.

“Jaysus, women.” Making them laugh even harder.

“Come on the pair of you, dinners ready and Cass there’s a bit of a surprise waiting for you inside.” Cass narrowed her eyes at Darragh.

“I’m not great at surprises, what is it?”  Darragh made a zipping motion.

“Not tellin’ ya. Come on in, it’s a good surprise.”

The three of them walked across the gravel, the frost making it crunch loudly beneath their feet.