Wandering in Exile (23 page)

Martin seemed pleased but she could tell; he was thinking about something else. He was like that. Other kids would need even more affirmation, but not Martin. ‘Quietly confident,’ always came to mind.

“Who was that man?” he asked without looking over at her.

“He is a friend of Mommy’s from university.”

“Is he a nice man?”

“Yes. He is.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I think you should.”

“Martin,” Deirdre mentioned casually as they pulled into the driveway, “I don’t think we should tell Grainne.”

“Danny Boyle, you bollocks.” Jimmy laughed and hugged him tight. He was looking very well with a very buxom blonde on his arm. “This is Anna. Anna, this is Danny from the band.”

The party was getting loud and Danny had to strain to hear what she was saying, leaning over her as he did. He was a bit tipsy already. He’d been drinking since midday. Frank told him he’d be wasted, but Danny didn’t care. He was going to have a good night—the first in years.

“So what do you think?”

“Of what?” Jimmy asked.

‘Of putting the band back together.”

“Danny, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

“I’m deadly fucking serious. Me and Frank are gonna go for it.”

“I dunno. I’m kind of involved in a studio project right now. I’m not sure I’d have the time.”

“Well, in that case,” Danny said as he swayed around in a slow circle, “you can go and fuck yourself. Me and Frank don’t need you.”

Anna looked concerned but Jimmy just laughed. “Just like old times, eh? Okay, I’m in.”

“And this time,” Danny announced to the whole room, “we’re going to do it right.”

He wandered off in search of beer, laughing with the old crowd and stealing kisses from their wives and girlfriends.

Billie arrived after eleven. She looked like she had come from the opera or something. She had her hair up and wore a pearl necklace. She wore a short black dress that showed her shape. She was still a fine looking woman.

“Danny boy.” She smiled and let him kiss her cheek. She wore an expensive fragrance that filled his mind with wicked thoughts. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the one who’s looking great. Jazus. Come here and give me another hug.”

He held her as close as she let him, smelling her hair and feeling her warmth against him. She’d been drinking, too, and she was high. Her eyes were huge and deep, but he could see that she still had feelings for him, even after all that happened.

“It was a mistake,” she told him as she scurried around collecting her expensive lingerie from the floor. “We shouldn’t have done this.”

Danny couldn’t disagree more. They had fucked half the night away. Their bodies remembered each other, despite the booze and the coke. She had a few lines and let Danny snort some off her body for old time’s sake.

“What?” he asked impishly as he watched her dress.

“This, Danny. We shouldn’t have done this.”

“Then why did you?”

She turned away and looked at herself in the mirror. She laughed for a moment before turning back to him. She had been doing so well. She’d left the museum and now worked for a private art dealer in Yorkville. She arranged parties and created buzz.

“I don’t know,” she answered and her own honesty seemed to trip her up. “I guess . . . well, I guess I should be going.”

She stepped into her heels, rising higher while flicking out her hair, tumbling freely now down her shoulders. She almost made it to the door before she turned. “I did it because I just broke up with someone.”

“Me too.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Danny boy. You’re still married.”

Danny rose and wrapped the sheet around his waist. He stepped forward and took her in his arms. “Not anymore.”

He knew that got to her. It was always different with her. Deirdre was always looking at him like she was trying to find something to change, but Billie just accepted him for what he was—and she still loved him, despite everything.

“It’s not like I think marriage is final, but because of the kids . . .”

Deirdre wanted to say the right things. She didn’t want to give Eduardo the wrong idea, but neither did she want to say anything that might drive him away. She liked getting together for lunch. It was so intimate, almost like dating. She wouldn’t be what drove him and his wife apart, but if it were to happen . . .

“I understand.”

“Do you?” She smiled and resisted the urge to reach forward and stroke the back of his hand. He was having problems too. His wife had become everything he hadn’t wanted. A stay-at-home, full-time mother who suspected every moment he spent out of the house.

Deirdre knew how lonely he had become—almost as lonely as her, but it shouldn’t become more. It was bad enough that they met and shared what they did. They both had children and they didn’t want to make things any more complicated than that.

“So, are we to go on denying ourselves the chance to be happy—together?”

He motioned for the bill and wiped his lips one last time. He tugged at his cuffs and stole a glance at his watch. He had to hurry back to the office. His wife called every few hours.

“And what makes you so sure that we could be happy together?” She shouldn’t have asked but she liked to tease him a little. He always tried to seem so assured.

He tapped his heart and winked at her. “Because I have never stopped loving you.”

“I am sorry, Ms. Fallon, but something must be done.”

Deirdre knew she was right. It was the second time Grainne had hit somebody and it was still the first term of grade one. She was belligerent at home, too, only there they could deflect her. But it wasn’t fair. Martin had to tiptoe around her, even when she turned on their mother. He tried. He talked with her and let her watch all her shows. He even played dress-up with her but, in the long run, something had to be done.

“Am I correct in understanding that there have been some changes in your family life?”

Deirdre nearly laughed aloud. People couldn’t say ‘shit’ any more, even when they had a mouthful. “Yes, Grainne’s father and I are separated.”

“I see.” The teacher nodded like she was hearing it for the first time. “And have you been to any type of family support?”

“Yes,” Deirdre lied. She’d had enough of all the ways people used to deflect reality.

“Grainne doesn’t seem to know this.”

“I can’t understand that,” Deirdre bluffed.

It was how she dealt with issues at work, and teachers were so easy to handle as long as you remained superior. “We have made a point of getting as much help as we can.”

“I see. In that case I’m not sure how to proceed. Normally, we would insist on a suspension but, if you are in counseling, we should give it some time and see how things are in a few weeks.”

Deirdre had pulled it off. She couldn’t afford to take time from work right now and she had no one to turn to. “I think that’s best. Our family therapist thinks Grainne is resisting. That’s probably why she didn’t want to mention it, but we are all confident that we can expect a breakthrough any day now.”

She’d get to work on it as soon as she got home. She would make whatever deal she had to, to make everything right again. She stole a glance at her watch and waited until the teacher smiled. They had nothing more to discuss for now.

“Well thank you for coming in so quickly, Ms. Fallon, and I am sure we will have everything back to normal in no time. Grainne is such a bright little girl. I think she could be one of the smartest children I have seen in a while.” She led Deirdre outside where Grainne sat on a bench. She didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned.

Deirdre almost laughed about that as she started the van. Grainne was smart. Too bloody smart and she would have her work cut out getting her to come around.

“Sweetie. What are we going to do?”

“I want to see my Daddy.”

“Daddy is at work right now. Maybe we can call him instead.”

Grainne flew into a rage and pounded her feet against the back of Deirdre’s seat. Deirdre waited for it to blow over but Grainne kept going, kicking and screaming until her mother broke.

“If you stop,” Deirdre said in her most controlled voice, “I will take you to Daddy’s office.”

“I want to see my Daddy, now.”

“I can’t drive while you are kicking my seat.”

“I want to see my Daddy. Now!” She repeated it a few more times until she had blown herself out and settled into a sulk.

Danny wasn’t in the office, so Deirdre took a chance and drove to Frank’s. Danny wasn’t there but Frank agreed to watch Grainne until he arrived.

“Are you sure?” Frank always had a thing for her and Deirdre felt bad about imposing on him, but she had to get back to the office.

“No problem. I’ll let her play with the power tools. Kids love that.”

Deirdre felt like a whore when she kissed his cheek, but she knew Frank would get after Danny.

Frank even agreed to have Grainne and Martin over for the weekend so Danny and Deirdre could have some time to try to sort things out. He’d even take Martin to hockey. He and Grainne could start fights with the other parents. “Just kidding,” he added when Martin looked concerned.

“They will be okay?” Deirdre asked as she and Danny sat down to dinner. They had decided on a nice little place on St. Clair where they made great pizza.

Danny looked different. He didn’t look so ‘pinched’ anymore. He even wore a ‘Blue Jays’ hat—everyone was wearing them since the World Series.

“It’s Frank that I’m worried about.” He tried to sound relaxed but he was hesitant, forcing himself to seem natural. He’d been different on the phone. They had talked and agreed; they had to do something for the kids’ sake.

When the waiter took their order, Danny ordered a beer. Deirdre ordered a glass of wine and tried not to react.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“Would it make any difference if I did?”

“It’s not like that, Dee. It’s just that I have found out something about myself. I’m not an alcoholic.”

She fidgeted with her placemat and waited for him to continue.

“I know you think I am but, after months and months of going to meetings, I figured it out. I’m just a heavy drinker who has other issues.”

The waiter returned and placed their drinks in front of them but neither of them reached for theirs.

“I’m learning to drink normally, now. I know you don’t believe me, but you’ve always been on my case and that’s part of the problem too. I know you mean well but it’s not working for me.”

He paused and waited for her to comment, but she didn’t. She knew she had to be different with him. Her time alone with the kids had changed her.

“Well?”

“I’m not sure what to say, Danny.”

“Well then, what would you say to a clean slate? You don’t bug me about my drinking and I won’t get so drunk all the time?”

She really wanted to cry. He was never going to be what she wanted him to become. She had been fooling herself all along. Miriam had warned her, back when they used to get together for coffee in Bewley’s. Danny Boyle would never change his spots—just like most men.

It was all an illusion. Women of today were no different than their mothers. Not really. Sure, they could have their careers and speak openly about orgasms but, at the end of the day, they were still the ones it all fell to. They still had to be the heart of the family. Only now they had to do it while juggling all that liberation had brought.

She could end it all and start fresh with Eduardo. Except she wasn’t prepared for all that entailed. Grainne would never accept it. His wife would never accept it. She sipped her wine and smiled at Danny. He knew he had her over a barrel. He knew what Grainne had been up to. He wouldn’t have encouraged her, but he wouldn’t have discouraged her either. If Deirdre was going to put her family back together, she was going to have to settle for the same old Danny Boyle.

He’d make some effort. He wasn’t a bad person—just a very flawed one. But he was the father of her kids and they came first. Women could have it all until it broke them.

Deirdre raised her glass. “To a new beginning.”

So, as the year drew to a close and Mary Robinson settled in at Áras an Uachtaráin and Ireland agreed to the Maastricht, Danny Boyle moved back home.

The war in El Salvador was over, too late for the seventy-five thousand, and the Charlottetown Accord died, but Mulroney signed the NAFTA deal. Better times were just around the corner.

A colonel in the Atlacati Battalion was sentenced to thirty years for killing John Melchor’s friends and Philippe’s kindness had gone unpunished. Apartheid was ending but so was Tito’s peace in Yugoslavia.

Los Angeles burned with rage for a few nights and, in Russia, they found the bodies of Nicholas and Alexandra.

The British finally outlawed the UDA and Sinead O’Connor ripped the pope apart, even though he finally lifted the Inquisition on Galileo. Bill Clinton would be taking over in the White House and Danny Boyle sat in the midst of his family, drinking moderately and overseeing a new peace.

And on Christmas Eve, he even took out his guitar and they sang carols like any normal, happy family.

“I came over as quickly as I could.”

Jacinta looked at her and felt better. She was the only one she would dream of calling in the middle of the night. She tried to smile but cried, so Gina hugged her tight.

“How is he?”

“They said that we got him here in the nick of time—but you never know with heart attacks.”

Gina made the sign of the cross from her head to her breast and across her shoulders before looking up at the ceiling. It almost made Jacinta smile. Gina was just like the rest of them, religious-less until death showed up. She didn’t mind; Gina just didn’t know any better.

“Ah, poor Jerry. And you, it must have been an awful shock for you.”

It was awful, but it wasn’t a shock. Jerry had been complaining for a few days but neither of them took much notice of it. If he was really sick, he should have gone to the doctor.

But he didn’t, and after dinner he sat beside the fire and smoked like a chimney. He had a few whiskies, too, but she didn’t begrudge him. Things were very tense at work. Donal was flying higher with every new deal and Jerry just wasn’t cut out for that type of thing. Jacinta had told him. “You’ll end up in an early grave,” she had warned.

“But at least I will be able to pay for a grand funeral,” he had laughed, “and I’ll leave lots of money for you too. You’ll be able to go off and get yourself some young fella to love you for your money.”

“Me?” she laughed along with him. They did that a lot. They had spent far too much time crying. “What would I want a man for? I’ve had enough of men for one life.”

“Admit it. Being with me has spoiled you for all the others.”

She had looked away and sipped from her glass of sherry like she was dismissing him, but it was all in play. They had great fun together and, given how they had started out, that was far more than she could have hoped for.

He’d even gotten a bit frisky when they went to bed. They hadn’t in years and she was about to make fun of him again when he clutched his chest. She thought he was kidding around until his breathing got strange.

She didn’t panic though; she was very proud of that. She phoned for help and followed the instructions they gave her until they came. It was only when she was in the back of the ambulance that she began to shake. They gave her a blanket and, in the hospital, one of the nurses got her a nice cup of tea. Jacinta didn’t want to be a bother but the nurse was so nice, saying how brave she was and all.

“Do you think that work caused it?” Gina looked concerned and a little guilty. “I’ve been telling Donal to ease up a bit. I told him that Jerry wasn’t as young as him and to take it easy. But would he listen? He’s gone plain mad for money and nothing else matters anymore.”

Jacinta thought about consoling her, but she was too tired. Now that she had gotten through all the excitement, she was worn out.

“But this is going to cost him. Mark my words.” Gina looked very determined and a little mean. Things were not great between her and Donal.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Jacinta said but her mind was wandering. They were well enough off that Jerry could quit working. But it would be better if he could get a retirement package—if Donal had any heart left. “Jerry’s just getting a bit too old for all of this. I think he should retire. Do you think Donal would let him?”

“He better not try to stop him. Not after this.”

“What I meant was,” Jacinta continued as calmly as she could. She didn’t want Gina to fly into a rage and get Donal’s back up. “Do you think he would see his way to giving Jerry something to retire on—buy him out like?”

“It’s not up to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all in my name. He signed it over last year so he could fiddle the taxman. I decide things for him now and he’d do well to go along with it.”

Jacinta said nothing. She was thinking about the day she took Gina to buy her wedding dress. She worried for her back then—about what she was getting herself into. Life with Donal was never going to be easy, but Gina was a great one for looking after herself. Linda and Brenda always said that she got too hard, but Jacinta understood. She had to. Things had changed between men and women. Women could stand up for themselves now and Gina had become more than a match for anybody. Jacinta could never see herself being like that but she didn’t have to. She and Jerry had become partners for life. That was how things were supposed to be.

“Mrs. Boyle,” The nurse called from the hallway, “would you like to come and see your husband now?”

Jacinta rose in a fluster with Gina attending. “Is he . . .”

“He’s out of danger. The doctor will explain more to you later but for now you can go in and see him.” She might have meant just Jacinta but Gina took her sister’s arm and they both marched in to Jerry’s room.

“Ah, Jaze, Jass. I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” He was pale and looked very worn out and had tubes and wires all over him. Jacinta didn’t mind. She leaned over and kissed his damp brow.

“Sure amn’t I always happy to see you.”

“And here was me thinking you’d be happy to see the back of me.” He tried to laugh but he wasn’t well enough.

“Don’t be making a joke, Jerry Boyle. When I get you home it’ll be no laughing matter. Isn’t that right, Gina?”

“You better listen to her, Jerry, if you know what’s good for you.”

Deirdre sat back as Eduardo read:

Ms. Fallon epitomizes the type of candidate the Advancement Committee is seeking to promote. As a woman, and an immigrant, she has consistently achieved the highest ratings in her employee evaluations. She continues to demonstrate the leadership skills we are looking to promote and has a proven track record.

Ms. Fallon is also a mother of two and is a role model for all young female employees. I have no hesitation in forwarding her name for consideration for the newly created position of Manager, Internal Career Development.

“Wow! They really love you.” He handed back the memo and smiled.

Deirdre smiled back. Eduardo could always find ways to insert words like ‘love’ and ‘passion’ into every conversation. They were having lunch in
Ramboia
, on College. He wasn’t concerned about being seen there. He told anyone who asked that she was his contact with the bank, and it was strictly business. Besides, he wasn’t the only businessman dining with someone who obviously wasn’t his wife.

“I’m sure it’s no more than you deserve. You have such passion and commitment for everything you do.”

It was so nice to hear someone say that. She had shown it to Danny, too, but he was not so enthusiastic. He congratulated her, of course, but with just a hint of condescension. She knew what he was thinking: that she was being promoted because she was a woman. It had happened again—he had been overlooked for another promotion. “You have to be a handicapped, black, or lesbian to get anywhere these days. It’s discrimination. Reverse discrimination and nobody can say shit about it. Misandry,” he smirked as he handed it back. “I’m a victim of rampant misandry.”

“You don’t think it’s just because I’m a woman?”

“That sounds like your husband speaking.”

Deirdre felt a twinge of guilt, laughing about Danny with another man. She was always careful not to take sides when Eduardo complained about his wife.

“Yes, he did have something to say about it.”

“His problem is that he doesn’t appreciate you.”

So many things dangled between them. Things that she could almost reach out and touch so easily. Delicious little intimations to be savored, even as they ate. He was always so attentive, holding her chair for her as she sat and holding her coat when she rose. He ordered the wine—just a half carafe, carefully selected to complement the food and the conversation. Danny always ordered by price. If it cost more, it had to be better. Eduardo was a lot more discerning about everything.

“I am sorry,” he corrected himself. “It’s not my place to comment.”

She smiled at that too. He liked to trespass a little, like he was testing her defenses. Some nights, as she lay alone in her bed, while Danny sat in front of the television drinking beer, she wished he would not hold back. She wished he would reach out for her and push himself on her, gently but persistently.

But they had a pact and she shouldn’t encourage him. “Do men ever appreciate what they have or are they always fixated on what they don’t?”

It was his turn to smile. She liked to test him too. To call him out for being the bold little boy that she could see inside his expensive suits. He poured their wine and raised his to his nose before he answered. “Women are not the only ones who mourn the death of love.”

That always got to her, the Portuguese lugubriousness that he wore around his heart. He had told her of his race’s poets and had tried to explain
Fado.
He said sorrow was essential in the Portuguese spirit. He called it the “suppressed memory of all that had been lost in the
Reconquista
.” His skin was coffee-colored and his eyes were brown. His forefathers were Al-Andalusians.

“Married people do not concern themselves with love; they are too busy compromising.”

Even as she said it, she realized how sad it sounded. They had a form of peace at home. Not harmony—more of a working truce. Danny complied with all she asked of him and in return, she let him be. It was workable for now, but she couldn’t help but feel she had lost control. Everything she had hoped for was put to one side. Danny said it was the same for him. He said that being married and having kids was a job in itself. They just had to get through the next few years until the kids were a bit older and then they could be a couple again.

She didn’t argue with that; there was no point. It would only set the cat among the pigeons.

They had patched things up enough to become a functional family again. Grainne had stopped hitting people and Martin and Danny had an entente. Martin’s stature had grown and his coach had recommended him to St. Mike’s. Danny was basking in the reflected glory.

It should have been enough. Many women she knew would have been happy with what they had, but Deirdre wanted . . . not so much more, she wanted what they had to be real.

“Yes. We have all become so busy.”

Eduardo had been promoted too. His company was keen to lose its Anglo image and seem more diverse. He was a poster boy for the up and coming ethnic. He knew that, and he knew how to turn it to his advantage.

“I will be traveling more,” he announced with just a hint of suggestion. “Across Canada mostly, but I am hoping to go further.”

“I may have to travel, too. I might have to go to Montreal in a few months.”

He just nodded as he drained the rest of the carafe into their glasses. “Maybe we might have the chance to have lunch there sometime.”

When she got back to her office, she closed the door and took a few moments for herself. They had crossed the line they had said they wouldn’t. It was only going to be a mutual support thing. Voices in her head warned her but they were the voices of her mother and Miriam. She loved them but she could never model her life on either of them. The world had changed far too much for that.

Still, she and Eduardo were lying to themselves. Little white lies to rationalize what they were really doing—putting themselves into situations where things could ‘just happen.’

She had heard so many people say it: they had left their husbands for someone else because ‘it just happened.’ Fate, kismet, love, anything but confronting the truth. She and Eduardo were flirting with the possibility of having an affair. She knew they shouldn’t tempt fate but, without those moments she shared with him, life would be far too bleak.

As she sat back into her desk, she picked up the postcard he had once sent to the office. From Alfama, where he had been thinking of her. He said he wanted to bring her there and to Sintra, but when she thought about it, she couldn’t see herself there without her kids.

“Please excuse my entourage.” John Melchor laughed as he joined them. The two suits that had followed him since he came back found a table close by. Karl, who had risen to shake John’s hand, nodded toward them but they pretended they weren’t there.

“FBI?”

“Most likely.”

“Why?” Miriam asked with a tone of displeasure that almost sounded maternal.

“I presume it is for my own good,” John laughed aloud. “Why else?”

“Why else, indeed. I’m just surprised that you don’t have a few cassocked Jesuits in tow too.”

“We managed to give them the slip down in El Paso.”

They decided to meet in San Antonio, in a restaurant by the Riverwalk. Karl had been working there for a few months. John had been closeted away with an old friend, his old pilot, out near Uvalde. The FBI stayed in a motel nearby.

“So,” Karl drawled, “what have you been up to?”

“Yes,” Miriam joined in, “please give a detailed account of yourself.”

“You would have made a great Mother Superior.”

She didn’t respond to that and an awkward silence settled.

“I’m sorry,” John Melchor finally said in Karl’s direction. “I forget that things have changed.”

“Don’t worry about me, padre.”

“Ah. Another military man?”

“He was a Marine,” Miriam answered for him. Karl was often taciturn about his past and his present.

“A
Teufel Hunden
? I was a flyboy, but I’m sure you know that.”

“Well?” Miriam tapped her finger in mock impatience. “How long is it going to take for you boys to go through your rituals?”

“Military formalities—you wouldn’t understand.”

“Careful, there, Jar-head. Nuns are always trumps.”

“Anyway,” John continued after sipping his beer. He hadn’t had one in so long. “After what happened, I was a guest of some friends who risked everything for me. I won’t reveal any more detail, other than to say that without them, I would now be answering to the Boss, himself. They kept me until I was well enough to travel, and by travel I mean being smuggled out.