Weddings and Other Things I Hate Page 4

  “Ok.”

  I can’t manage any further conversation than that, so I leave the room and go out to my car to phone Helen.

  As I look at her name in my call log, I can’t bring myself to phone her number. I don’t want to have to say the words out loud. I don’t want to make everything more real, by having to talk about it.

  I decide on a text message. I explain that Ernie has been put to sleep but I’m too upset to talk. I tell her that I’m turning off my phone but not to worry and I’ll phone her in the morning.

  I don’t want to hear the sympathy in her voice, I don’t want to talk about my feelings or work through pain. I want my bed and the comforting oblivion of sleep.

  I drive back to the house while Siobhan and Mum are still at the vets. When I pull up to the farm Lucas and my dad greet me at the door but the look on my face tells them everything they need to know.

  My dad reaches out his arms to hug me, but I refuse.

  “I just want to go to bed,” I say as way of explanation.

  “That’s ok, pet,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.

  I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, kick off my shoes and crawl, fully dressed, under the blankets.

  I surrender myself to sleep and hope that it won’t be plagued with visions of Ernie’s last breaths.

  I don’t think I’m asleep for long when I hear my bedroom door open. I see a slither of light come in from the hallway and make out Helen’s silhouette.

  I sit up in bed and rub my eyes to make sure I’m not dreaming.

  “Helen?” I ask. “What time is it? What are you doing here?”

  “It’s just after midnight,” she whispers. “Lay down, we can talk in the morning. I got your message and I wanted to be with you. We don’t have to talk about anything, or even speak. I just knew you’d be hurting and I didn’t want to be that far away.”

  I start to cry as soon as she finishes speaking. She rushes to sit beside me and gives me a hug.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone,” I say through the tears.

  She takes off her shoes and climbs into the bed beside me. She cradles my head on her chest and strokes my hair. She doesn’t say a word as I cry until the tears run dry and I fall asleep in her arms.

  I have never loved her more.

  Chapter 4

  I wake the next morning and Helen is nowhere to be seen. For a moment I think I must have dreamt her appearance but I notice her shoes are still in the room.

  I turn on my phone and check the time. It’s just past 6am so I go in search of her.

  I creep down the stairs and hear the hushed voices of my parents and Helen in the kitchen.

  “You don’t think she’s going to leave now that Ernie’s dead, do you?” asks Dad.

  “No, she’s happy here now, isn’t she, Helen? Or is she not?” probes Mum.

  “No, she’s happy here. She likes her job and I know she’s pleased with how things are between you guys so I don’t see why she’d leave,” says Helen.

  “To be closer to you, I suppose,” answers Mum.

  “It’s not something we’ve talked about seriously, besides I have my course and she has her work so it’s not a great time to be making big plans just yet.”

  My heart drops a bit but I hold onto the hope that Helen is playing down the seriousness of our relationship so she can seem coy in front of my parents. No one willingly gushes about their future at 6am with their partner’s parents.

  I open the door and they all stop talking.

  “Hey, love,” says Dad. “Do you want a cuppa?”

  “I’ll make it,” I offer.

  “Not at all, you sit yourself down there with Helen. She’s a good egg, coming all this way to make sure you’re ok,” he adds.

  “That she is,” I smile as I give her a kiss on the cheek.

  “How are you feeling today?” asks Mum. “Are you heading to work?”

  “No, I’ll take a personal day,” I reply. “I was off all last week, back in two days and now I’m not showing up – I’m a shoo-in for employee of the month.”

  Helen gives me a hug and leads me towards the kitchen table while my parents busy themselves making tea and toast.

  In any time of crisis, my family believe that everything can be solved with a pot of tea, toasted white bread and real butter.

  “None of that margarine, nonsense,” says Mum. “Get that into you.”

  I do as I’m told and feel my heart swell at the outpouring of affection I have towards them all.

  “You’ve got to keep your strength up for the race, this weekend,” adds Dad. “Lucas will give off holy stink if you’re not in tip-top shape.”

  I groan at the thought of taking part in any type of exercise right now, but I’ve promised Lucas and there is no backing out – dead dog or not.

  “I need to go back up to Dublin, this afternoon, but I’ll be here on Saturday so I can cheer you both on.”

  “You’ll be a long time waiting for me to get over the finish line,” I reply.

  “So what? It doesn’t matter about the speed, just get it finished.”

  I’ve just finished breakfast when Lucas and Siobhan wake up and join us all in the kitchen. We are treated to more fitness tips from Lucas, while he shoves a bowl of granola into him and warns me that we’re going for a run when he gets home from work.

  “Those endorphins will be good for grief,” he says. “Trust me.”

  “Trust you? The last time I trusted you I was told we’d only be jogging for fun and here we are about to do a 10K race and I’m woefully underprepared.”

  “Underprepared?” he says, “How much preparation do you need? We’ve been running a few nights a week for eight months; you’re going to be fine.”

  I put my head on the table; I don’t want to listen to him sound so optimistic anymore.

  “Lucas, that’s enough,” says Siobhan. “Let’s get ready for work and leave my grief-stricken sister in peace.”

  One-by-one they leave the kitchen until only Helen and I remain.

  “What do you want to do?” she asks. “We could do absolutely nothing or we can do something to take your mind off things?”

  “A walk?” I suggest. “There’s a pretty little patch of woodland not too far away that I used to walk Ernie in. I was thinking it could be a nice place to scatter the ashes when we get them.”

  “That’s really sweet,” she replies. “I’m going to have to borrow some clothes though, I literally left my house as soon as I read your text and didn’t even bring a bag.”

  “So I’m going to have to deal with your awful morning breath all day?”

  “Or we could stop at a chemist, while we’re on the walk. I should warn you: you’ve got two strikes left before I stop being nice.”

  “Surely I should get an unlimited amount for the day and then you can go back to scolding me?”

  “I’m a nice girlfriend, not a mug,” she replies. “You get three in total, that’s your lot.”

  I ruffle her hair as I stand up and clear the table. I send an email into work, dig out some casual clothes and the walking shoes I wore while we were in Rome.

  “I knew they’d grow on you,” says Helen when she spots what I’m wearing.

  “I’m getting another pair before my placement starts; I’m going to be on my feet for twelve-hour shifts on the ward so only the best for my tootsies.”

  “Please don’t ever say that word again.”

  “Noted. Now, let’s hurry up and get to the chemist so I can sort out my breath situation.”

  I stop myself from giving her another dig; I don’t want to waste my last two jibes before we’ve even left the house. What if she falls into a giant puddle and I’d have to be nice instead of laughing hysterically before helping her? I can’t take that risk.

  The chemist is a few doors down from the vet and as soon as I see it, my mood darkens.

  “Are you ok?” asks Helen.

  “Yeah,” I lie. “Just
forgot the vet was so close, I don’t want to be anywhere near this place.”

  “I’ll be two seconds and then we’re out of here, ok?”

  “Sure.”

  I wait outside the chemist while Helen makes her purchases. The street is starting to get busier with people opening up their shops and starting work for the day.

  I don’t spend a lot of time in the main street of Kilkin but it’s a pretty nice part of the country to live.

  Sure, people always know your business and everyone my age thinks I had crabs in my youth, but it was still somewhere I’d like to settle down in. The commute is easy, the house prices aren’t astronomical compared to Cork city, and the schools are good.

  In the five minutes Helen has spent in the shop, I’ve already planned out the next twenty years of our life, and surprisingly, it doesn’t scare me.

  However, I’m not confident that sharing this information with Helen isn’t going to make her run for the hills so I keep my daydream to myself when she re-joins me outside.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” she asks.

  “Ah, just work stuff.”

  “You never switch off from that place,” she teases.

  “I thought you were only going in for a toothbrush, that bag is full!” I ask, changing the subject, swiftly.

  “I bought some essentials to keep at your place so I’m not caught out like this again. I’m not moving in, just being very clever,” she smiles.

  We walk back towards the direction of the house so Helen can leave off her shopping bag and brush her teeth. I’m about to tell her I’ll wait outside but then I realise that I only ever did that when I want to spend some time playing with Ernie. I stop in my tracks, look in the direction of his empty dog house and it feels like the breath has been squeezed out of me.

  Thick tears roll down my cheeks. The outpour of emotion catches me by surprise and I rush to brush them away before Helen notices and makes a fuss.

  When she sees my face she stop and smiles.

  “You don’t have to hide your tears from me,” she says. “That’s what I’m here for. Hugs, sympathy and gentle teasing when you’re not sobbing.”

  I smile through the tears and give her a hug.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “Or I will be fine. I just forgot for a second and thought he’d be out to say ‘hello’.”

  “It will take a while to get used to.”

  I nod and follow her into the house while she goes to the bathroom.

  The house is quiet which means Dad is already out working and Mum is probably out with him. She usually spends the mornings with him and the afternoons getting on with her own stuff. She mostly spends her time visiting older women from the town who don’t have family living close-by. She loves to stop in and make sure they’re not lonely or check if they need anything from the shops.

  It doesn’t take long for Helen to re-join me in the hallway and we both head back out the door to go on our walk.

  We set off on mine and Ernie’s usual route while Helen listens as I share stories about my dog and point out his favourite spots to stop.

  “I’m aware I’m just showing you places my dog pee’d,” I say. “And I’m also aware you’re just smiling and nodding and pretending to be completely fascinated with this whole experience.

  She laughs and hooks her arm in mine.

  “That’s what being in a relationship is all about,” she replies. “Pretending to be interested in rubbish the other person comes out with from time-to-time.”

  I smile and we walk in silence through the woods, listening to the different bird song that trills overhead.

  “I wish I could impress you with my bird knowledge but I’ve absolutely no idea which bird sounds like which,” I say.

  “Me either, you could just make it up to impress me,” she replies.

  “Ok, well that squawking noise that we just heard? That’s the lesser-spotted Kilkin Ostrich.”

  “Really? Fascinating. Tell me more.”

  “It’s a beautiful, majestic bird with purple feathers but it can be deadly.”

  “We’d better watch out for it then.”

  “It’s ok, we should be fine. They only attack when people are invading their habitat and taking duck-face selfies.”

  “The horror!”

  Being outside has definitely lifted my spirits and the extra time with Helen is also wonderful, but I still feel like I have a lead weight in my stomach. Every time I think about returning back to the farm and not seeing Ernie’s face, I start to well up.

  Anytime my mind wanders to that thought, Helen squeezes my arm a little tighter, as if she knows I’m faltering.

  I love that she’s there to support me and at that moment I get a glimpse of just how amazing she is going to be as a nurse.

  She stays with me until lunchtime but has to go back to Dublin. I hate to see her go and I toy with the idea of going with her, but I know that I need to go back to work and get into a normal routine. I’m still catching up from my Rome break and if they are serious about expanding my department, then I have to show them just how dependable I am.

  I also have to squeeze in a run, even though it’s the last thing I want to do. After over-indulging in Rome, the thought of heading out to pound the pavement is the least enticing thing I can think of doing.

  Lucas is confident that I’m ready for my first race, but I don’t share that belief. I can definitely walk the distance, but the thought of continuously running at a decent pace for a whole 10K route, is enough to make me hyperventilate.

  I decide to ignore the fact that I’m already sweating after our short, leisurely stroll and pour my attention into my work instead.

  I email Mr Ramad and tell him that I’m available to work from home, this afternoon, so I can feel less guilty for taking the whole day off.

  He seems delighted by this and is quick to send contracts through for my perusal.

  Contracts bore me no end, but thankfully I have managed to get several templates in place so it cuts out a lot of time. No matter how polished I think they are, one of the directors still manages to come back asking for a tweak here or there. So much of my time is spent trying to specifically word a sentence to keep someone happy, just so another person can flag it up before the next revision.

  I spend the next few hours working my way through the emails and the influx of HR demands that are being sent my way. I’m too busy to think about my grief and I am thankful for it.

  I clear away my laptop from the kitchen when I hear Siobhan and Lucas coming in from work. Mum must have arrived at the same time as I hear all three of them, chatting in the hallway. I start to busy myself in the kitchen and attempt to make a start on dinner before Mum comes in and chases me out of her way. In her defence, I am a terrible cook and my attempts are only ever half-hearted so I can earn some brownie points by trying to help.

  “What are you doing in my cupboards?” asks Mum.

  Her voice catches me by surprise and I bang my head on the inside of the cupboard.

  “I was looking for herbs and stock cubes. I am going to make a start on some stew,” I say. “Thought I would give you a night off.”

  “What do I want that for? Besides, stew takes hours – have I taught you nothing? Take yourself out of here; you’ll be called for clean-up after it’s all finished.”

  I know I’m beat and decide to see if Lucas is in the mood for an early run. As I walk down the hallway, towards Siobhan’s room I hear raised voices.

  I decide it’s best not to disturb them but before I get a chance to walk back down the hallway, Siobhan comes out of her room.

  “Are you eavesdropping?” she asks.

  “No,” I shout. “Promise! I was just going to see if Lucas wanted to go for a run before dinner instead of after. Race day is fast approaching and all that…”

  I let my sentence trail off in the hope that she will interrupt or tell me what the fight is about.

  She doesn’t take the hint and shrug
s as she walks past me.

  “Is everything ok?” I call after her.

  “It’s fine,” she replies. “I’m just marrying a moron.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that, so instead, I tap on their bedroom door to see if I can get any other information from Lucas.

  “Is it safe to come in?” I ask.

  “Only if you’re not going to call me a moron too.”

  “Not unless you deserve it,” I laugh.

  He doesn’t find it funny, so I shut my mouth and linger at the door. He sits on the bed, looking at his hands and doesn’t offer any conversation.

  “Can I help?” I say, tentatively. “You’re always a good sounding board for me, perhaps I can finally return the favour?”

  “It’s no big deal,” he replies as he exhales. “Siobhan is stressed with the move and the wedding and she thinks I’m not being helpful.

  “It’s hard to help when everything I do or say seems to be the wrong answer.”

  I’m definitely the wrong person to ask. I have never lived with a partner and Helen and I are nowhere near the stage of marriage talk. I feel completely useless.

  “Maybe I could finally get the hen party organised and take her mind off the big picture. A nice night away with all her friends might be the break she needs to make her realise she’s probably a lot more organised than she thinks? I mean, she really is the most organised person in history, so she’s probably worried for nothing.”

  “Do you think she’d go for that?” he asks.

  “A drunken night away from it all? What do you think?”

  He smiles and thanks me while I leave him alone and work up the proper level of enthusiasm to approach Siobhan about her hen party.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of a fun night out – I’m just not a big fan of my younger sister’s friends. They always seem much louder than the rest of the world but I’m determined to give my sister the best hen party possible.

  As she’s only having me in the bridal party I don’t have to try and please extra bridesmaids with the details. I hate group chat messages, so the organising is already off to a good start.

  I find Siobhan, lying on the sofa, scrolling through her phone.