One Night Only by Catherine Walsh

29

Paul and Annie are staying in a tiny one-bedroom in Brooklyn for the few weeks they’re here. It’s barely twenty minutes by cab but it feels like an hour. Declan’s silent the whole way there, glancing at his phone every few seconds as if checking for an update. I know better than to try and make small talk. All I want to do is reach out and hug him, offer some sort of comfort but, with our conversation left unfinished, the movement feels too personal, so I keep my hands to myself and try not to imagine the worst-case scenario.

Annie is waiting outside when we arrive, unharmed and very much alive, though I still run my eyes over her, checking for cuts and bruises and giant, gaping wounds. I don’t know if Declan told them I was with him, but she doesn’t seem surprised to see us together.

“She’s fine,” Annie says as she brings us inside. “Honestly. But we think she should get it checked out.”

“What happened?” I ask her after giving her a very hard hug.

“It was bad timing. Some kid ran out into the street and I braked hard. Mary was reaching down for her purse at the exact wrong time. She hit her head against the dashboard.”

The apartment is clean and small with that rental look of bland, matching furniture and cheap artwork on the whitewashed walls. Declan’s mom lies on the sofa, a compress on her head, looking alert if not a little dazed.

Declan’s face tightens at the sight of her. “Mam—”

“Sarah!” Mary opens her arms wide when she sees me, sounding like she just won the jackpot. “Pet, it’s so lovely to see you.”

“Um… hi, Mrs. Murphy.”

Paul gives me a pleading look from where he stands by the kitchen, so I go to her only to have her wrap me in a bear hug. This would be awkward enough but the fact she’s still lying down means she pulls me by the neck and I have to brace my hands on the arm rest so I don’t fall on top of her.

There’s silence in the room for a short second before Declan turns to his brother.

“Paul?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I will ask,” he says. “Mam, you’re strangling Sarah.”

“Oopsie,” she says, letting me go. She pats my cheek, brushing my hair out of my face. I lean back but don’t get too far before she grasps my hand, holding it between her warm dry ones.

“Explain,” Declan says tightly.

Paul sighs. “I gave her some stuff to help with the pain.”

Declan gives him a look. “And they say I’m the black sheep in the family.” He grabs the back of my blouse, tugging me toward him as Mary starts examining my manicure. “Let’s just have you stay over here.”

“She’ll be grand once she gets it checked out,” Paul says, and then louder, “Won’t you, Mam?”

“I feel just fine.”

“It was a nasty hit,” Annie whispers. “But she’s refusing to go to the hospital.”

“I’m not paying those crazy prices,” Mary says. “You know what it’s like over here.”

“Let me see it,” Declan mutters, kneeling next to her.

“Don’t fuss,” she says but he ignores her as he gently peels the compress from her head.

I gasp at the sight of the bruise, red and pink and already starting to swell.

“It looks worse than it is,” she sighs. “Head wounds always bleed more.”

“You’re not bleeding, Mam.”

She blinks up at him dreamily. “I’m not?”

“You’ll have a pretty nasty bump though. We should get it checked.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You have a head injury.”

“I had a torn vagina when I had you, but I got through that.”

Declan gives her a startled look that has me biting my lip to keep from laughing.

“How much did you give her?” he demands, turning to Paul.

“Actually,” Annie says mildly, “I think it was the whiskey chaser that did it.”

“For Christ’s sake.” He pushes away from the couch, ignoring Mary’s reprimand at his cursing. “You couldn’t have sent her to a professional? She might have a concussion.”

“What do you want me to do?” Paul asks as Mary starts humming. “You heard her. She won’t go to the hospital. I couldn’t very well carry her there, could I?”

“I know someone,” Declan mutters, taking out his cell.

“It’s just a cut,” she says. “I don’t want a doctor.”

“It’s a bump, not a cut, and he’s a friend, not a doctor.”

“Dec,” Paul warns as he follows him into the bedroom. “When you say a friend…”

The door shuts behind them and the three of us stare at each other.

“I’ll go make some tea,” Annie says, her voice unnaturally cheerful.

“Proper tea now,” Mary calls. “Like I showed you. I brought some tea bags with me.”

“Proper tea,” Annie confirms from the kitchen.

The kettle starts to boil, drowning out the voices from the bedroom.

I stand there, feeling useless while Mary looks at me happily.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Murphy?” I ask when she doesn’t stop.

“Oh, I’m grand,” she sighs. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“It’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too.” I perch on the edge of the sofa and she immediately grabs my hand. At least she doesn’t try to hug me again.

“I hoped I would,” she says. “Not many people can do what you did, you know. Fly halfway around the world and spend a week with a bunch of mad people you’d never met. It’s impressive.”

“Everyone was very nice.”

“Everyone’s always nice,” she dismisses. “But it’s still intimidating. You more than held your own. More so than Annie,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “She’s grand now but the first time she came over I found her hiding in the toilet most nights, looking like a scared mouse. She’s like a daughter to me now but it took her a while, she’ll be the first to admit it. But you.” Mary sits back with a proud look. “You’re well able for us. For him.”

I tense as she continues to pat my hand, almost oblivious to my presence as she talks.

“He almost looked like his old self. When I saw you two together, I thought…” She trails off, her eyes growing absent and I know I shouldn’t prompt her, especially when someone could walk in on us at any second, especially when she’s clearly high on whatever Paul gave her, but my curiosity is too great.

“He told me about Fiona,” I say, trying to recapture her attention.

“Now that was a real shame,” she says, pursing her lips. “I knew they were through as soon as she decided to leave but instead of giving them both a clean break, she dragged the whole thing out. She didn’t even give him a chance to try and prove himself. Just kept him dangling on a string. Acting as if he wasn’t good enough for her. Like what was happening between them was all his fault.” Her voice drops. “She had an affair,” she says mouthing the last word. “But I shouldn’t talk about it. He doesn’t like us to talk about it and everyone knows it. That’s why we all had to walk on our tiptoes around him at the wedding, acting like nothing had happened. His father was convinced he’d go back to his brooding at the first mention of her. He said we’d just upset him. He almost tried to stop Paul inviting her parents to the dinner and there’s us knowing them since before Paul was born!” She tsks. “As if Declan didn’t know exactly what we were doing. As if I didn’t raise my boys to deal with their emotions. Now, I believe everything happens for a reason and while I didn’t like my son having his heart broken maybe it was the wake-up call he needed. He’s been happier ever since she left. Sure, look at him now,” she adds, waving a hand. Her movements are so loose she almost hits me in the face and I have to swerve to avoid her. “He’s trying. And that’s all I ever wanted him to do. But some people just need a little more time to figure things out. Your hair’s very long.”

It takes me a moment to catch up with the sudden change in conversation. “I… yes.”

“Everyone my age has short hair. I miss my long hair.” She focuses on me again, a smile lighting up her face. “Maybe I’ll grow it.”

“What are you two nattering about?”

I twist to see Declan standing in the doorway. God knows how long he’s been there.

Mary settles back against the cushion. “I was admiring Sarah’s hair.”

“It is very shiny,” he says, not looking at me. “My friend’s on his way. You’ll like him. He’s handsome.”

He is handsome.

Amir, an endlessly patient nurse who used to work at O’Shea’s, checks her out while Annie and I share smirking glances at each other across the room, much to Paul and Declan’s displeasure.

“She doesn’t have a concussion,” he says to us when he’s finished. “But it’s not going to look pretty. She needs rest.” He looks at us pointedly. “And fewer people around her.”

It’s our cue to go.

There’s more hugging and drawn-out goodbyes. Now that Declan knows his mom’s alright his attention switches back to me and I can feel his frequent glances as Annie pulls me to the side.

“Are you okay?” she asks as the brothers talk to Amir.

“I’m not the one who almost killed my mother-in-law.”

“It was terrifying,” she mutters. “Thank God she’s alright.”

“Now watch Paul bring it up at every family gathering for the end of time.”

“I know.” She sighs. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m fine. No head bumps for me today.”

“I meant with you and Declan.”

“I don’t know yet,” I say truthfully. “We were kind of in the middle of it when Paul rang.”

“Paul and I have been talking and from what he’s said—”

“Annie,” I interrupt as Declan pats Amir on the shoulder. “I love you and I know you only want what’s best for me. But this is something I have to figure out on my own.”

“We should leave her be,” Declan says, joining us. We. There is of course no possibility of the two of us not leaving together. Of not continuing where we left off.

“Goodbye, Sarah!” Mary calls as he shepherds me out the door. She’s already said it to me twice.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Murphy!”

“Call me Mary,” I hear her call faintly as Paul follows.

“So,” Paul says in the hallway. “Did you two… chat?”

“Maybe we’ll talk about this at a time when our mother hasn’t just been in a car accident,” Declan says.

“Right.” Paul clears his throat. “Well. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“Please.”

Declan turns to go and I flinch as his hand goes automatically to the small of my back. He immediately drops it and I flush as Paul looks away.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Declan says to him, his voice tight and he heads to the stairs without touching me again. I follow him down one step behind, nodding my thanks as he holds the front door open for me.

“I’m glad your mom’s okay,” I say when neither of us move.

“She’s a tough one. Seems to like you.”

“That’s just the head injury.”

He smiles slightly, looking more than a little relieved I haven’t immediately started on him again. But I’m tired of fighting and I think he knows it.

His hand goes to the back of his neck, rubbing it as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want something to drink with me?” he clarifies.

“You can come too.”

“But no talking right?”

“And you have to stay five steps behind me.”

“Sounds fair.” He opens his eyes, meeting my gaze and something in my chest begins to hurt. “I know just the place.”