Sweet Days (Four Days Book 2) Page 11

  pregnancy, but my hips are already spreading and

  so is my stomach, not to mention my chest, which

  no longer fits into my usual bra size. I’ll have to

  buy some new clothes, but with little money

  available, it’s not going to be easy. I’ll be forced to

  ask for help from my father and to tell him what’s

  happening to his only daughter, who had a

  promising career in front of her.

  I’ve had to opt for a pair of leggings that still fit

  me and a large T-shirt that hides my round

  abdomen. As I’m still in front of the mirror

  caressing the life that is growing inside of me, I

  feel his discreet presence behind the closed door.

  I blush, embarrassed, and pull my glance away

  from my own image, and pretend to be looking for

  something in my purse as I’m sitting on my bed.

  “You’re beautiful, Erin,” he whispers and I can

  hear his embarrassment too.

  “And you’re an incurable liar,” I say, feeling as

  if he’s making fun of me.

  “Why should I lie to you?” he asks, taking a few

  steps towards me.

  “Because you know full well it’s not true. I’m

  getting fat in a hurry and my hair won’t stay in

  place and—”

  “—And you’re talking smack,” he interrupts

  me, taking my hand and forcing me to look at him.

  “You always have been beautiful. The first time

  you came to the pub I thought you were

  breathtaking. You have a simple, sophisticated

  beauty and you are so sweet. I understood in that

  moment that I never would have had a chance with

  you, that you were out of my league.”

  “Out of your league? I think you got that turned

  around … You’re the one who always goes out

  with beautiful girls who are showy and—”

  “Sexy, charming,” he continues. “But none of

  them have your character, your brains and most of

  all, your heart. No one is like you.”

  I swallow hard and it’s a loud gulp and I’m

  about to have a hormonal breakdown that would

  push me to throw him down on the bed, begging

  him to have his way with me.

  God, I’ll never make it.

  “I didn’t think you could be any more beautiful.

  You’re simply stunning and … God, help me close

  my mouth, won’t you? I’m making an ass out of

  myself.”

  I laugh at his words and I lean in towards his

  lips, rising up to my tiptoes. I cover his mouth with

  mine and his arms are ready and waiting to

  envelop me, lifting me off the ground, and it’s not

  just my body that feels itself rising in the air.

  “They’re waiting for us. Let’s go before I regret

  what I said the other night. It’s true I said I

  wouldn’t throw you down someplace, but—”

  “Knock it off,” I tell him, slapping his chest.

  “Wait a second, who is waiting for us?” Anxiety

  creeps in. He smiles, before biting his piercing

  with his teeth.

  God, I could just faint.

  “You’ll see.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “And this?” I ask when I see Liam’s car parked on

  the street out front.

  “Did you think I was going to bring you

  someplace in a motorcycle?” Patrick says. “I’m

  not that much of an idiot.”

  “But you love riding your bike and you hate

  four-wheeling it. You’ve always said women can’t

  resist a guy with a bike.”

  “Honey, are under the impression that I care

  about other women? The only thing I’m interested

  in is that you come with me and that we have a

  safe means of travel.”

  I have to say I was not expecting that. I don’t

  know if I should be happy about this little prize or

  if I should be worried about this head-spinning

  change in him.

  After about forty minutes we arrive in the city.

  Patrick parks the car on a street just outside the

  city center, where there are kids playing in the

  middle of the street. He shuts off the car’s engine

  while I stay sitting in my place and just take in the

  scene. He comes around to my side and opens the

  door.

  “Shall we?” he offers me his hand.

  “Uhm, I’ve already been here.”

  And I’m right. I came here with Rain some

  months ago when we went back to her childhood

  home, trying to help her reconstruct her first

  memories after the accident.

  “You see that house with the green door?” he

  tells me. “Good, well, that’s Aaron and Rain’s old

  house. The one in front of it was Jay’s.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And this violet door was my family’s. I know,

  violet is a weird color, but my sisters forced me to

  paint it three years ago and it’s stayed like that.

  Now that you mention it, it could use a new coat.”

  “We’re at your house?”

  “Technically it’s my family’s house, but I think

  I could still consider it mine.”

  “Patrick,” I say pulling him by his arm. “What

  are we doing here?”

  “We’re going to have lunch with my family, like

  I do every Sunday.”

  “Alright, let me rephrase the question. What am

  I doing here?”

  Patrick doesn’t have time to answer me because

  the door flies open and two girls fly out and

  literally throw themselves in his arms. He grabs

  them even if they’re pretty grown-up girls and

  kisses them both, visibly happy to see them.

  “You mother trucker, you finally made a

  decision, huh? You haven’t shown your face in two

  weeks,” says the older of the two girls.

  “Watch your language, young lady.”

  Watch your language?

  “What a ball breaker you are.”

  “Do I have to tell Mom about this?” he calls her

  out.

  “Also a tattle tale. Same old bastard” intervenes

  the second one.

  “Okay, girls, you’re not helping me to make a

  good impression. This is Erin.”

  The two of them turn to me as if they’ve only

  just now realized I’m standing here. Both of them

  look first at me and then at him. It’s clear they

  don’t know who I am. Patrick puts his hands in his

  pockets, embarrassed.

  “You brought a girlfriend home?” yells one of

  the two.

  “I’m a friend,” I clarify, trying to rescue us all

  from this tricky situation. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “A friend? This is—”

  “Okay, that’s enough. Erin, these are my two

  younger sisters, the two thorns in my side, Ciara

  and Amanda. And now let’s all go inside because

  the others are all in a fistfight trying to get the best

  spot by the window to see what’s happening out

  here.”

  With those words, I turn to look at the house

  just in time to see other faces hiding behind the

  curtains.

  Patrick laughs and
shakes his head before taking

  my hand and leading me to his house and without

  knocking I enter into his life and his world.

  Patrick

  “Oh darling, finally!” My mother hugs me with

  affection.

  I called her early this morning to let her know I

  was going to bring a guest. She didn’t ask me any

  questions. She’s a discreet woman, but knowing

  her she will have come to her own conclusions.

  I don’t know why I decided to bring Erin with

  me to my family’s house. I haven’t been here for a

  few weeks and seeing as I cut my trip short I

  thought I’d come, and yet I didn’t want to leave

  her alone. Especially now that we’ve started to

  establish something.

  I still don’t understand what there is between us

  and don’t want to get a headache trying to define

  it, I just know I want her next to me and I want the

  assurance that she’s well.

  My brothers are all in front of the TV watching

  a GAA match. They spare us a quick glance by

  way of greeting, but Carl joins my mother and us.

  “Mom, Carl, this is Erin.”

  “Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Sarah and this is

  Carl. Welcome to our house.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, I hope it’s not

  any trouble.”

  “We’re happy you’re here. Patrick never brings

  anyone, except those boys.”

  “Mother!” I admonish her.

  “You know I love them all, but it’s nice every

  once in a while to see a new face.”

  We take our places at the table. We’re a bit

  tighter packed than usual and Erin is squeezed in

  between my sister Ciara and me. She seems a bit

  nervous and out of it, so I rest my hand on her leg,

  squeezing just slightly to reassure her. She smiles

  at me in thanks before answering the questions that

  are coming at her from every part of the table.

  She answers sincerely and politely, taking small

  mouthfuls of whatever she can, chewing slowly.

  Evidently she’s got a bit of nausea.

  “And so you’re an only child,” my mother says.

  Erin nods, before telling everyone her story. I

  didn’t know her mother lived in America and that

  she had gone there with her when she was still

  little. I knew that she lived alone with her father,

  but I never dug any deeper than that. In reality,

  there’s a lot I don’t know about her.

  “I can’t imagine what it means living without

  siblings,” Ciara blurts out. “It must be strange, but

  really spacious.”

  Everyone bursts out laughing but Erin limits

  herself to a circumspect smile. I hope these

  comments haven’t upset her.

  After lunch we go into the living room for

  coffee, which Erin refuses in favor of a much

  lighter tea. I follow my mother into the kitchen to

  help her with the cups. She would not accept

  Erin’s help, asking her instead to sit down like the

  others because she was their guest, but I like

  helping out, especially in the kitchen.

  I reach for the cups on the top shelf, and my

  mother leans in close to me, rubbing my arm

  gently.

  “What month is she?” she whispers.

  Nothing gets by Mama.

  “I don’t know if she wants to talk about it,

  Mom.”

  “Yes, dear, that’s why I’m asking you and not

  her. I never would have embarrassed her like that.”

  I turn and rest my shoulders up against the

  cupboards behind me. “She’s in the first trimester.”

  “Is she well?”

  “Yes, everything’s okay. When did you realize?”

  “I had six children, Patrick. I know the signs.

  And then I saw her adjust her T-shirt a few times,

  trying to cover something up that is difficult to

  hide.”

  “No one knows, she wants to wait a bit more.”

  “And the father?” she asks delicately.

  “How do you know it’s not mine?”

  “Because I’m your mother, darling. If it was

  yours you would have told me right away.”

  “It’s complicated. He left her for someone else

  and she found out she was pregnant and didn’t

  want to tell him. She didn’t want to have him tied

  down to her.”

  “She’s a good girl.” She smiles. “And I can

  understand her decision. But it’s not easy having a

  child and a family, as you well know. It’s already

  difficult even with a partner, how is she going to

  make it without a father?”

  I lower my glance because I don’t know how to

  answer.

  “And you? What’s your take in all this?” she

  asks me, pouring the coffee.

  “She’s a friend, she works at the pub. She’s

  alone and…”

  “And you’re a good boy, Patrick.”

  “It’s not true, you know.”

  “I know I raised a difficult child who was

  always angry and who became a cold and cynical

  man, but he’s one who is hiding a heart of gold.”

  “You can only talk like that because you’re my

  mother,” I concede, giving her a bitter smile.

  “Perhaps … but I’m right and you know it too.

  Do you feel some kind of obligation towards her,

  Patrick? Are you trying to fix things? Maybe right

  a wrong that’s been done?”

  I shake my head and set the cups up on the tray.

  “It wasn’t your fault what happened. She’s

  already decided and there was nothing you could

  have done to make her change her mind. I know it

  and so do you.”

  “Mom, Erin has nothing to do with that story,

  this is a different situation.”

  “Are you in love with her, Patrick?

  “Fuck no!”

  “Watch your language.”

  “I’m sorry. No, I’m not in love with her,

  Mother. I’m just trying to help out a friend in

  trouble.”

  “And does she know that she’s just your

  friend?”

  “What does that mean?” I ask without looking

  at her.

  “Oh honey,” she says, shaking her head and

  going into the living room, leaving me alone with

  my thoughts and my cowardice.

  I follow her, feeling in a bad mood. Her words

  made me reflect on what it is I’m really doing

  here. Am I leading her on? Am I letting her believe

  in something that isn’t really there?

  Then I see her joking around with my brothers

  and complimenting my mom for the beautiful

  curtains. She seems comfortable, at peace, almost

  happy. And my heart closes up in one bite,

  obstructing my breathing once again.

  What am I doing?

  “Hey, everything alright, son?” Carl asks me,

  coming close. “She’s a really nice girl, Patrick.”

  I nod and give him my best fake smile.

  “I’d like to see her again,” he adds and with

  that, I find the courage to meet his glance. “Don’t

  fuck this up, please,” he adds because he kno
ws

  me. I’m anything but a model of integrity, even if

  my mother obstinately sees something in me that

  isn’t there.

  Because this is who I am, who I’ve always

  been. I was born like this. Unable to let anyone

  into my heart and incapable of taking care of

  someone else. Unable to feel anything like a

  sincere and true emotion that goes beyond my own

  physical needs.

  I am a man with a stone heart that could only

  smash and destroy a girl like her, who is so sweet

  and in need of love.

  A love that I’ll never be able to give her.

  And when she turns towards me, smiling and

  grateful for this warmth of a family that I

  unconsciously let her be a part of, I can feel myself

  dying and falling, because I am making an

  unforgivable mistake letting her get close to

  something that in reality can never be.

  I am not a man who loves

  I am not predisposed to love.

  I can’t give her love. But there is something,

  maybe, I can do for her and for the life that’s on its

  way. I can help, be a shoulder to cry on, a rock to

  grab on to. I can be close to her so she doesn’t feel

  alone, because I know what it feels like and I don’t

  want someone else to feel that way because of me.

  I don’t want her to ever feel like that.

  Ever.

  15

  Erin

  “Thanks, that was a nice day,” I say as we park the

  car outside the pub.

  “Didn’t they make you uncomfortable? That’s

  their speciality.”

  I smile bitterly. “They were all fantastic, I didn’t

  realize how much it means to have a family that

  loves you so much and worries about you.”

  “Why, isn’t yours like that?”

  “Sure, but, you know, it’s just me and my dad

  and he’s always busy. It’s not at all the same.”

  My dad and I have a great relationship, we have

  things in common. Neither of us is very expressive

  emotionally, but we love each other and that’s

  what counts.

  It was just us for many years; I didn’t realize

  that being around a family would have this effect

  on me. I wouldn’t want my son to be forced to

  grow up like me, with no relatives and just one

  parent.

  “Why do you call your father by his first name?

  Is it some kind of masculine pride or something or

  are you just too big for that kind of thing?” I tease

  him a little just to distract myself.

  “Because Carl is not my father. He’s not father