Wandering in Exile (25 page)

“Now, now. Leave your poor father alone. He’s doing his best.”

“He is?”

“He is. It wasn’t easy for him having the two of you as daughters.”

“Us? He should be proud of us.”

“He is. Now.”

“Well I still think that Deirdre and the kids would be better off doing what has to happen before any more harm is done.”

Her sister was right, but Deirdre couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. Not until she was satisfied that she had given him every chance. After that; she would do whatever had to be done.

Deirdre had been putting off meeting up with him; it wasn’t the right time.

She’d missed him and the reaffirmation she felt just being near him. He had called a few times but she had always said she was too busy. It wasn’t a total lie; she was, and she needed time to let everything settle again.

She was, when she was honest with herself, becoming paralyzed. She could function from one day to the next, but she couldn’t bring herself to think about the future. Eduardo seemed to sense that and didn’t push her. He just wanted her to know that he was always there at the other end of the phone if she needed to talk or anything.

She often thought about phoning him, especially at night while Danny sat downstairs until she was asleep. Their marriage had become little more than a functional agreement. They did what they had to do together as parents. For the most part, they were civil to each other for the kids’ sake, but they weren’t really a couple anymore.

Danny had been acting out a little too. Drinking more, almost challenging her to say something.

She didn’t. She overlooked it and asked if there was any news on his father. All they had were functional conversations, nothing more.

She missed caring about him but she had learned something else at Al-Anon. They told her that she had to learn to detach. It was confusing. Where was the line between detachment and indifference? She couldn’t find it any more.

Danny had probably erased that, too, with all of his encroachments. They might have been cries for help but she had nothing left to give him. But it still wasn’t the right time to do anything. The kids were still too young and the news of Jerry wasn’t good. It just wasn’t the right time.

Eduardo called again, at the end of October, to say that he noticed Leaside was playing in Markham the same weekend his son was playing. Perhaps they could meet for hotdogs?

She would have made some excuse but, the previous Sunday morning, Danny had crossed the wrong line. Martin and Grainne had been having a tiff and were getting a bit loud. Deirdre was determined to stay out of it and just read the newspaper, absentmindedly chiding them every once in a while.

“You’ll wake your father!” she reminded them again, but it was just a token effort. He had woken her when he came to bed.

So Martin and Grainne argued some more and she went on reading the paper, trying not to smile as she enjoyed a moment of restitution. Until Grainne took it too far. “Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Martin won’t let me watch my shows.” She even ran to the foot of the stairs, too, to make sure he heard.

Deirdre sprang up but it was too late; Danny was already pounding down the stairs.

“Would it be too much to ask that one morning—just one fucking morning—I get a bit of peace and quiet?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy, but Martin made me cry.”

“Did not.”

“Did too and he tried to pull my hair.”

Deirdre reacted instinctively. “Martin, is that what really happened?”

“No, Mum. She just won’t let me watch my show—and hers is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s for girls.”

“Girls are stupid.”

As Deirdre watched, she knew what was going to happen next. Grainne started slowly, deliberately, so that everyone but her father could tell: she was going to throw her brother in front of the bus, again. She pouted her lips and scrunched up her face and began to tremble, voluntary at first until it all bubbled up from inside and poured out through her eyes.

Deirdre never expected what happened next. Danny grabbed his son and hauled him up level to his face. “Can’t you see that you made your little sister cry? What kind of a cruel-hearted bastard are you going to grow into?”

“Danny!”

“Danny nothing. I’m sick and tired of you not keeping this little gurrier on a leash.”

It was Martin’s turn to cry, though he tried to hold it in.

“Not so fucking tough, now, eh, Gretzky? If I ever catch you making your sister cry again—I’ll fuckin’ . . .”

Deirdre reached forward toward Martin, glaring at Danny as she came. She wanted him to know that, in that moment, she despised him.

He seemed to recoil and lowered Martin. “I’m sorry.”

He might have said more but Deirdre stood face to face with him. She didn’t say anything. She just wanted him to know.

He withered a little and turned to go.

“Don’t you ever speak like that again in this house. Do I make myself quite clear?”

Even the kids stopped and looked at her. She had never, ever, spoken to anyone like that before, not even the night Anto followed her home. But then she was only afraid for herself.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and slunk off toward the basement.

“Right, you two.” The kids were still standing in shock. “Get upstairs and get dressed. We are going out for brunch.”

It worked. They both shot off, almost leaving what just happened behind.

She took them to the Sunnybrook, right across the road from McDonald’s. She wanted them all to have bacon and eggs and sausages, with warm toast and jam, but Grainne wanted waffles and Martin wanted a burger, so Deirdre just had coffee and watched them.

She had been very stupid—and careless. She could have headed it off. It could all have been avoided if she had just stopped to think. She had put her son in danger so she could make her point. Yes, Danny was supposed to get up and spend some time with the kids, but she knew better. She had made a huge mistake and would never let it happen again.

“Can all girls cry whenever they want to?”

Deirdre should have said no but she didn’t feel like it. When she was alone with Martin, she almost felt free. She was taking him to the tournament while Grainne stayed with a neighbor. She hadn’t asked what Danny was doing. It didn’t matter; she had said yes to Eduardo.

“Yes, Martin. I do believe they can.”

“Can you?”

“Probably, only I don’t like crying.”

“I wasn’t crying, you know? When Dad was being all . . .”

“I know, sweetie.”

“Do girls cry because that’s the only way they get their way?”

“Not all girls, sweetie.”

“It’s still not fair. Boys always get blamed whenever stupid girls cry.”

She had dropped him off at the door along with his hockey bag and had gone to park when Eduardo arrived. He was so happy to see her and parked right beside her even though he still had his son’s bag and they were a long way from the door.

“Dee-dree.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks, right between her hat and scarf. “And you are perfectly dressed for spending the day in a rink.”

He wore a leather bomber jacket and blue jeans. It was a good thing she had brought something to sit on. He hauled the heavy bag from the back of his van, so like Deirdre’s only newer. “I swear to you,” he laughed as he slung it over one shoulder, “next year—swimming.”

“Oh, Eduardo. That’s so un-Canadian of you.”

“Well, I admit it then.” They were walking briskly but he wasn’t getting short of breath. “Besides, I was very good at swimming.”

She couldn’t help it and briefly imagined him in a Speedo, rising up from the warm surf as the sun set on the Costa De Caprica. She was still thinking about it as she held the door for him and watched him walk in. He had been back to Portugal during the summer. His skin was a little darker and he smelled like a shower—a long hot shower.

She watched him check in with his team and hand the bag over to his son. The coaches took it from there and would keep the kids ‘focused’ for the next few hours.

“So how was your trip to Dublin?”

“Nice. The weather wasn’t great but I got to see my family again. That’s always nice.”

“And your parents came to visit too. Yes?”

“Yes.” It had been a bad idea, seeing them so soon, but her mother told her that her father was insistent. He wanted to be there for Danny while Jerry was going through what he was going through.

“And did they enjoy themselves?”

“They became total Canadians for a few weeks. My mother insisted on barbequing every evening and my father wore shorts and a t-shirt the whole time. Such Euro-trash, eh?”

“Oh, you don’t mean that. I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as all that. Besides, my family always barbequed
sardinhas
. The Fire Brigade is always calling around. It was very embarrassing at first but now my mother makes them stay and eat with us.”

His smile always made her tingle deep inside.

But it was worse than she let on. Danny and her father went drinking every evening and when she complained, her father sided with Danny. “You’re getting a bit shrill there, Dee. Relax and let a man enjoy his holidays.”

Her mother rolled her eyes but didn’t comment, though Deirdre overheard them at night, arguing softly as they went to bed. “The last thing that boy needs right now is a boozing buddy.”

“Let it go, Anne. I’m only trying to help him keep his mind off things.”

“Well I think he should be minding things.”

“You don’t really mean that. You know as well as I do that his father will be dead before the year is out.”

But the night before they left, her mother whispered to her in the kitchen. “Don’t worry, pet. If you ever divorce Danny—I’ll understand, because the minute I get off the plane, I’m divorcing your father!”

And for some reason, she shared all of that with Eduardo, over hotdogs and rink-cold hot chocolate. She was testing him. She wanted to see if he was ready. Would they take that great leap together and land in each other’s arms? Or would they fall into a jumble of tangled and broken emotions?

She had to risk it, but she needed some sign from him that she wasn’t stepping out into an abyss.

It almost seemed like he knew. He sat and listened with his chin in his hand, his long slender finger resting against his lips. She couldn’t tell if he was smiling but his eyes were sparkling.

“And will she leave him?”

The question hung in the car, all the way home. Leaside had lost in the finals and Martin was quiet but not despondent. Martin didn’t get like that. Instead, he replayed every play while thinking of how much better he would do it the next time.

Both of them were.

The house was dark, the only one in the lit-up street. And, as Deirdre struggled to find the lock, the telephone rang.

“It’s Gina. Danny’s aunt. I’m afraid I have some very bad news.”

Jeremiah Boyle was laid to rest beside his parents on a bitter afternoon in November. The wind whipped down through the gap in Glenasmole and tore at the mourners. The rain pelted them, too, so Fr. Dolan had hurried everything along. Only Danny had made the trip and stood, swaying slightly, as his mother greeted everyone who came. “You’ll come back to the house to send Jerry off in style?” Those that accepted nodded in quiet deference, dripping rain from their hats and umbrellas as they did.

When they got home, Jacinta sat beside the fireplace sipping whiskey to ward off the chill. Gina and Anne Fallon organized the kitchen and served sandwiches and tea for those that wanted it. Danny was no help. He was even worse than his father—at his father’s funeral.

Jacinta had liked Bart. He had danced with her at her wedding. He was nice to her and told her not to pay Nora too much mind. “She’s not used to having other women around her, but don’t worry, she always does the right thing in the end.”

“I’m very sorry for your troubles,” the mourners offered, but Jacinta hardly heard; she was deep in her own thoughts, swirling like fog inside her. And she was getting mad at Jerry. He could have tried to look after himself but it seemed like he just gave up in the end. Deep down inside, she understood. Jerry was never going to be content unless he could be Jerry and she couldn’t help but feel a little admiration for that.

“She’s still in shock, God love her,” the mourners agreed when she didn’t respond.

But that was all well and good for him; she was the one left alone again. Just like when she was sent to the hospital and he ran off to England. Except then, she was still able to believe that one day she would get out.

“I brought you a cup of tea,” Anne Fallon insisted, and held it before her until she took it in her trembling fingers. Jacinta didn’t want it, but she knew Anne was just trying to be nice. “Drink it now. It’ll do you a bit of good.”

Jacinta sipped it. Sure, there was still Danny, but he was no good to anybody anymore. She was angry at him too. No matter what he had had to put up with, he had no right to show up in the state he did. God only knows what he must be inflicting on Deirdre and the children.

And they’d be gone one day, too, and she’d probably never get to see them again. Deirdre and her mother would try to hold it all together for a while, but once a family was broken, it shattered everything.

“I’m very sorry for your troubles.”

Mrs. Flanagan stood over her. She had her coat on and was ready to leave. She’d had her cup of tea and didn’t want to be a bother. She’d only come over to share her condolences. She looked down at Jacinta with that same look and Jacinta was mad at her for that. She was always looking like she expected Jacinta to have some kind of answer that would make everything okay.

“Thanks, Mrs. Flanagan. That means so much more—coming from you.”

Mrs. Flanagan seemed content with that and left, pathetically shuffling away. Jacinta would never allow herself to become like that. Jerry was gone wherever he was gone and no amount of kneeling and praying the afternoons away would ever change that.

She was angry at Nora too. Not for all that had happened. Jacinta was mad at her because here, at the end of it all, she was going to have to deal with everything alone.

“Mrs. Boyle,” Fr. Dolan addressed her as he sat in the chair opposite her. He was like that—very pompous. Jerry used to say that he behaved like he had invented the whole business of God all by himself. “May I offer my sincerest condolences?”

Jacinta was angry at him too. He was the one who had driven poor Fr. Reilly out. Jacinta had heard it from Mrs. Dunne a few weeks before she died.

“And though I didn’t get to know the deceased as well as I would have liked to, I can say with certainty that he will be sorely missed by the community.”

Over the years he had managed to finagle donations out of Jerry for the youth club and things like that. Jerry, the soft-headed old fool, had been more than happy to hand it over too. “So they’re not out getting into drugs and things like that.” But she knew better than to say anything. “Thank you, Father,” she managed before lowering her head and staring into the coals.

“It’s at times like these, Mrs. Boyle, that even I struggle to accept the Lord’s plan.”

Jacinta might have snorted. There was no plan. People just got born, lived their lives and died. All that mattered was whether or not they had been good to each other along the way. Fr. Reilly had told her that, only not in so many words. Fr. Dolan was a different kind of creature—more of a salesman.

“But we that are left behind must struggle on. Perhaps, after your mourning, we could talk about an idea I had to make sure that your husband’s good name is remembered, along with the good names of his parents. May they all rest in peace.”

Jacinta didn’t look up. Instead, she stared into hottest part of the fire. It made her face flush and her eyes began to sting but she wouldn’t look away until he left. She knew that he had been on at Jerry for money for something or other a few months back.

“Well, I leave you to your mourning. You will want a mass?”

She had to look up at that. Jerry always said that he was like an insurance salesman. And that the price of the mass kept going up. ‘Money for old rope,’ he used to call it. She just nodded to get rid of him. She knew that he knew she had very little time for him.

And in time, they all left. Neighbors first, until it was just Anne and Gina, cleaning and putting away. Danny had passed out and gone to bed.

“Will you be all right?” Gina asked from the doorway. Anne stood behind, putting on her coat, but ready to stay if she was needed.

Jacinta just nodded as Gina came over, kissed her head, and then left her alone with her grief.

After Danny came back, more dark and brooding than ever before, and his mother came to visit for almost three months, Deirdre begged Miriam to visit. At first, Miriam felt that she and Karl were too busy, but she finally got it: Deirdre really needed to see her and spend some time with her. Miriam had to check with Karl first, but she was sure that they would be able to visit over Thanksgiving—Canadian Thanksgiving.

They offered to stay in a hotel but Deirdre wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted to be able to sit and chat, over coffees, in her own recently remodeled kitchen, with pot lights and stainless-steel fixtures. It mightn’t be the type of thing to impress Miriam but it made Deirdre feel better about herself. She had most of the house re-done after Danny ‘moved’ into the basement.

He had built a bar down there. It was some tacky 70s stuff that Frank had torn out of a job. Danny was delighted with it and, as it was on the opposite end from the laundry room and the kids’ TV room, Deirdre couldn’t care less. He had an old couch down there, too, and spent his nights there.

It was strange for them all at first, but Martin just acted like his father wasn’t around anymore. Deirdre knew what he was doing. Martin was embarrassed, only he’d never let it show. She was doing the same thing, herself, and for a while it seemed like a very good arrangement—for everyone except Grainne. Deirdre didn’t like her going down there but it was the only way she could spend time with her father.

Sometimes, when they had all gone to bed, Danny would take out his guitar and sing and play softly to himself. It drifted up through the vents, along with the traces of his cigarette smoke. He had put filters in all the vents but it just made his music muffled. She could just hear his voice, softly cracking and wavering, as she lay staring at her ceiling. But it wasn’t really Danny anymore, just the ghost of what he might have been. Things could have been so much different, but they weren’t and now all that was left was to clear up the mess and get on with the business of living.

The next time would be the last; she had promised herself, even after she had debated it from all sides. It was what was best for all of them, even Danny. Only, she’d have to wait for the inevitable to come around again. Danny was in a vortex and every time, like now, when he clung to the edge, clinging on for dear life, she was tempted to reach out with her toe and crush his fingers and get it over with, once and for all.

She would never do it. Instead, she would just stand there, beyond caring, and let life take its course. It would be better for them all in the long run.

And she couldn’t do anything while Jacinta was over. After Jerry died, Gina put Jacinta on the payroll, as a director, and Donal knew better than to object. And she gave her money to come to Canada, too, to spend time with Danny. Deirdre wasn’t consulted until it was all arranged. Danny mentioned it while she was sitting at the table with the kids and retreated to his lair before they could discuss it. That’s what upset her—that she had no say in the matter.

Still, she was determined to see it through with as much grace as she could muster. She liked Jacinta but she also knew what she could be like sometimes. And the last thing Danny needed was someone to drink with. Deirdre had tried getting him to talk—at least about his father, but Danny had closed down completely. He lived inside a pall of gloom and made everything around him seem less and less worthwhile. He still talked with Frank, who had tried everything to get him to snap out of it. He was on the verge of giving up too.

It was going to be hardest on Grainne. She had started to look to her mother for reassurance but Deirdre had nothing to give her. She tried reaching out and holding her but they had never been that close. Perhaps after her father was gone things might change, but for now there was nothing else to do but wait.

“The point is, Ma,” Danny had said, looking over the rim of his glass for emphasis, “nothing is like they say it is. We all get tricked into believing that there is good in the world but there isn’t. It’s just a whole bunch of people running around distracting themselves until their time is done. That’s all, and the sooner we all accept that, the better.”

They had been drinking all day since Danny got back from the liquor store with a fresh supply.

“Ah, now, Danny. That’s an awful dark way of looking at things. I prefer to try to see things a bit more positive.”

“Right! And look where that got you.”

Jacinta’s eyes welled up again. She had done a lot of crying since she came over, for herself, for Jerry, and for Danny. She hadn’t meant to. She had wanted to come over and just spend some time with him—time that would be spent remembering Jerry for all the good he had done. She just wanted to be able to talk about him until she was satisfied that there was nothing more she could have done. She wasn’t angry at him anymore. Now she felt like if only she had looked after him a bit better . . .

“Life is a load of shite, Ma, and anyone who tries to tell you different is just trying to sell you something.”

He wasn’t her son anymore. He was a man full of bitterness and badness. He had a meanness about him, a dark bitter meanness that burned like a fire inside him. She wanted to tell him to snap out of it for the children’s sake if nothing else, but it wasn’t all his fault. It was like a hereditary disease and she could see the same look in little Grainne’s eyes that Danny used to have when he was a child. She hadn’t been able to chase it away then, and it wasn’t for her to do now.

At the back of it all, Jacinta still blamed herself. She shouldn’t have gone running off that night with the baby in her arms. What did she think was going to happen after that? And she could have gotten out of the hospital sooner. Instead of sitting around feeling sorry for herself, she could have just gone along with all they told her and she would have been out years earlier. She could have done it for Danny’s sake. It was no wonder he was turning out the way he was.

“What are you crying about now?” he asked.

“I was just thinking back, pet, that’s all.”

“There’s nothing back there that’s worth crying about anymore.”

“Ah don’t say things like that, Danny. It was where we were all born and bred, and it’s where your father was laid to rest. It wasn’t all bad between him and me, you know? He and I had a lot of good times, too. It just took us some time to get to know each other.”

“Jazus, Ma. Don’t be trying to make a saint out of him, for Christ’s sake. He was a miserable, gutless bollocks. He was the one who let them put you in the fuckin’ loony bin.”

It hung in the air between them for a while, then slowly wafted away, out toward the hall.

“Don’t be saying things like that, Danny. That’s all done now.”

“Well, maybe you can forgive him but I never will.”

Jacinta choked back a few tears but she was determined to try to set him straight. “We all make mistakes, Danny boy, and we shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I made my fair share too.”

“Tell me about it. And I’m the one still paying for them.”

“Mum?”

“Yes, Martin?”

“Why did Granddad Jerry let them put Grandma in the loony bin?”

“He must have overheard something and got the wrong idea. You know I’d never say anything like that to him.”

Deirdre tried to remain calm. She didn’t think Jacinta had, but she wouldn’t put it past Danny. He was so desperate to rationalize the state of his own existence that he was only too happy to tear at everybody else’s, especially his son’s. She got that; it was part of his disease but it didn’t change things.

“And I doubt Danny would have said that.” Jacinta was wringing her hands but they both knew better. “Would it do any good if I had a word with him? The poor little chap. It’s not right that he should be going around believing something like that.”

Deirdre thought about it. Her first reaction was to say that Jacinta and Danny had done enough damage, but she couldn’t. Besides, she knew that Danny was spoiling for a fight and it was better to lie low until he got past that. She knew his pattern so well. Jacinta’s visit, and all they had talked about, had stirred it all up inside of him. Anything she did or said would just light the fuse.