Quiet Types, page 28
I blew out a breath, taking a small break from shovelling noodles into my mouth. “It was good, a little depressing, though. By all accounts, my biological father was … not a great person, but I like Jonathan. I’ve decided I’m going to keep working for him and building a relationship.”
“You like him?” Shay asked, surprised.
I nodded. “He’s a decent man underneath it all. There’s a vulnerability to him, as well. I think he might be unhappy, lonely, really. He doesn’t talk to his mother anymore because she married someone he didn’t approve of. I think he wants to make amends but is too proud to reach out.”
“If my mother were still alive, there’s nothing in the world that would keep me from talking to her,” Shay said.
“Yes, well, not everyone is as open and loving as you are,” I replied, and his eyes heated. Flustered, I motioned to the food, “Thank you for this. It was so thoughtful. I better be getting in there before Mr Cole thinks I flaked on him.”
I closed up the noodles and set them aside. Then Shay leaned forward, his thumb wiping gently at the corner of my mouth. My breath caught. I knew there must’ve been something on my lips, sauce maybe. Shay’s eyes never left mine as he licked whatever it was from his thumb, then sat back. My heart was pounding. Was that his way of breaking me down? Turn me on so much I forgot why I was mad at him?
I emerged from the car; my cheeks warm as I dashed across the street. I let myself into the house when my phone vibrated with a text. It was from Shay.
Be back at 10:30 p.m. to pick you up.
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips, not to mention the relief. Being driven around took away a lot of the stress of working back-to-back shifts.
And that was how the rest of the week went. Shay had requisitioned his father’s car to drive me to and from work. I didn’t bother eating at home because there was always food waiting for me when I got into the car. I started to feel guilty because I still wasn’t ready to go back to where we were.
I noticed Shay looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping. His hands on the steering wheel were stained with charcoal and flecks of paint. It made me wonder if he’d been staying up late to work on his art.
Was he throwing himself into a creative outlet to deal with the crack that had formed between us?
No, if anything, the crack was beginning to seal shut over the course of the week, my heart and chest full of feelings and warmth. I was almost there, almost ready to start trusting and opening up to him again.
On Friday, I was disappointed when Shay told me he wouldn’t be able to drive me to my later cleaning shift. He’d promised Rhys he’d cover for him at the hotel that night. It was fine, though. I was more than capable of walking and taking the bus.
After saying an emotional farewell to Marco and the Connollys, I headed home on the late bus, needing to sleep for at least ten hours to recover. I’d finished working my notice, and Jonathan’s office was closed until the New Year. I had ten days of blissful time off. As I let myself into my flat and slipped off my shoes, I got a strange sense someone had been inside. Was it Siobhan? She had a spare key for my flat in case of emergencies.
It was as I was asking myself that question that I turned and saw the large picture that hung on my normally bare wall. My keys and bag clattered to the floor as I took it in, clutching my chest as tears sprang forth.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and it was … me.
22.
Maggie
I didn’t understand why I was crying. The picture, done in paint and charcoal, was clearly Shay’s work. I studied the array of colours, the intricate detail. How long had he spent on it? The image was of a woman sitting on a bed. Her long, auburn hair fell down her naked back, her face turned towards the window. The profile and body shape were familiar. No, not merely familiar. Mine.
The picture somehow encouraged the eye to travel down my hair where it evolved into a flock of birds of every variety and colour. The birds flew out the window, where my gaze was levelled, as though watching them fly away.
Only last week, I’d asked Shay for one of his paintings to hang on my wall, but I’d meant something he’d already created, something small. It took up almost the entire space. I was touched he’d overcome his hesitancy to share his work, that he’d made it … for me. It was a masterpiece, truly. I had no idea how he’d gotten into my flat, but I suspected Siobhan and her spare key had something to do with it.
Again, I was struck by the tenderness in how he’d captured me. I found myself lowering onto the floor and staring up at it, trying to decipher the meaning. Was there a meaning? It was beautiful, yes, but it was also imbued with … something. There was a palpable message Shay was trying to tell me.
I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there staring up at the picture when I noticed a small detail in the wing of a tiny brown bird. Standing, I stepped closer. Shay had written a message camouflaged into the feathered wing. I took me a moment to read.
Like the birds, she fascinates me.
I fascinated him?
Emotion wedged in my throat, and a tear trickled down my cheek. Goosebumps rose on my skin, while butterflies wreaked havoc with my insides. I never imagined anyone would see me as Shay did. I was resigned to be on the periphery, observing the world, alone in it. But then he came along and opened me up. He made me love him. Shay was so intrinsically himself it was impossible not to fall.
Without realising, I’d already picked up my phone. I was too emotional to call him, but I managed to compose a text.
It’s stunning. Thank u.
His response came soon after.
I love you.
A few moments passed, and I couldn’t hold back my reply.
Love u, 2.
Now, I was full on crying. A part of me wanted to go him. Run through the streets until I was at his door, but it was the middle of the night, and I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. A final message arrived.
I’ll pick you up tomorrow, drive you and the kids to see your mother.
His text reminded me of what lay ahead, and the butterflies that had filled my stomach suddenly had wings of sharpened steel. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day, and I was so thankful to Shay for offering to drive us. I needed all the support I could get.
C u in the morning then, I typed and hit send.
***
I set my alarm for a little later than normal because I didn’t have to pick the kids up until mid-morning. But even with the extra hours of sleep, I was still wrecked when I woke, my emotions conflicted. A part of me wanted to cancel and stay home, but the other part knew I couldn’t let Vivi down. She wanted to see Mam, and I promised I’d bring her.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I took an extra-long shower, the hot water sluicing over me, scalding my skin. I blow dried my hair, put on some makeup and dressed in jeans and a warm cable knit jumper. Nothing could combat the dread in my stomach over seeing Mam, not even the beautiful artwork that hung on my wall. Art created by a man who loved me and who I loved in return.
I was no longer upset over the Nigel thing. My feelings had mended on that front. I just wasn’t sure how to communicate to Shay he didn’t need to continue bending over backwards for me. He just had to be himself. That was all I needed.
I heard Siobhan outside talking to someone. Peering out the window, I saw Shay had pulled up. He stood by the car, arms folded while Siobhan spoke to him. I quietly opened my window the tiniest bit to hear what she said.
“Did she like it?” she asked, and Shay nodded, but then shrugged as if to say, She likes it, but I’m not certain if it’s enough to fix what I broke. A hollowness filled my chest to see him so unsure. He had no idea how the painting made my heart soar, how I could barely stop looking at it.
“Well,” Siobhan replied, hand on hip. “If she doesn’t forgive you after seeing that painting …” Trailing off, she shook her head. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve you.”
So, it had been Siobhan who let him in last night. I’d have to have a word with her about that. Shay’s expression clouded, and I noticed Siobhan turn her head a little towards my window, a knowing smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. Damn, the woman had the hearing of a bat. She knew I was eavesdropping.
Easing the window shut, I went to grab my things. There was a gentle knock on my door a minute later. My eyes went again to the painting, affection for Shay tugging at me. I needed him to know how much it meant to me. I thought of the past week, how he’d been chauffeuring me to and from work, feeding me. And now that painting that was so full of feeling it was almost difficult to look at.
Opening the door, all the air left me when I saw him. Shay looked handsome but tired, and I fought the urge to pull him into my arms, to kiss him until we were both gasping for breath.
“Thanks for coming. You really didn’t have to,” I said.
Shay tilted his head, glancing inside my flat. His eyes went to the picture, then to me. I tucked some hair behind my ear, feeling entirely too seen. I moved towards him, placing my hand on his chest. “I know I said thank you yesterday, but I wanted to say it again in person. Thank you. It’s such a beautiful piece. It’s a privilege to have it on my wall. I think I spent about two hours just looking at it when I got home last night.”
Shay’s eyes lowered to my hand pressed firmly over the fabric of his jacket. Then those eyes lifted, burning into me. My pulse fluttered, and I withdrew my hand. “We should probably—”
Before I could finish, Shay grabbed my wrist, spinning me back around. His eyes found mine, checking in, gauging how I was feeling. I inhaled sharply and leaned forward, our noses touching. Then our lips found their way to each other, meeting gently. It felt organic, inescapable. My breathing stuttered as his lips caressed mine, slowly opening me up. I willingly accepted, and before long, the kiss grew more impassioned, desperate …
I broke away, gasping for breath, my hands once more pressing to his jacket. I didn’t know if I was holding him at bay or grasping for my own self-control. Closing my eyes, I found some composure. “There isn’t time.”
Shay fingers came to my chin, tipping it up. I opened my eyes. His held a message, a promise.
Later, then.
I nodded, gathering myself as I motioned to the large bag that held the kids’ Christmas presents. I was going to wait until after the visit before I handed them out. If things didn’t go so well with Mam, then at least the presents afterwards might take away some of the sting.
“Do you mind if I store that in the car?”
Shay nodded, grabbing the bag for me. Walking by him, I stepped out of the flat, and he followed suit, waiting for me to lock my door. I was still full of butterflies, my head dizzy from the kiss. Shay stowed away the presents, then stepped over to the passenger side and opened the door for me. I murmured my thanks, and once I was seated, he went around and slid into the driver’s seat.
Grabbing his phone from the middle console, he typed, “Are you going to be all right today? I can take the kids to see your mother and you can wait outside if you’d prefer?”
I shook my head. “No, I … I need to do this. If I don’t, I’ll just feel like a coward.”
“You wouldn’t be a coward. You’d be protecting yourself. And all I ever want to do is help protect you, Maggie.”
“I know that,” I breathed. “And I’m grateful, but this is something I need to face.”
Shay’s eyes flickered between mine before he nodded and started the car. By the time we reached Delia and Ken’s house, I’d managed to calm down a little. Shay turned off the engine and came in with me. The kids were curious about him, especially when they found out he was mute. Eamonn, the youngest, began peppering him with questions, and I had to keep reminding him Shay couldn’t respond in the usual way.
Vivi seemed eager but nervous. I knew she was excited, and I just hoped our mother managed to pull herself together enough to be kind to Vivi for the duration of the visit. Shay started loading the kids into the back of the car when Delia drew my attention.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” she asked.
We stood by the front door, and her eyes were on the children. For the first time, I saw a genuine concern for them. She might not have been the most involved foster parent, but she did care for the kids in her own way.
“I don’t know. My mother can be unpredictable,” I answered honestly and saw worry etch her features. “But no matter what happens, they’ll have you and Ken to come back to. They have a solid base with you, and that’s no small thing for a child.”
“Thank you for doing this,” she said then, and I nodded, tugging my scarf higher around my neck before I went to join Shay and the kids. The four of them were surprisingly chipper on the journey. It wasn’t a long drive, about fifteen minutes, but they chatted and giggled the entire way there. I tried to see things from their perspective. As far as they were concerned, it was a fun day out to a new place. Their memories of Mam were so distant they didn’t feel apprehensive.
Their easy camaraderie was at odds with the nervous tension that had me in a chokehold. Shay found a parking spot not too far from the prison, pulling me aside when we got out. His hand rose to the side of my face, and I didn’t know what he was doing until he slid an air pod into my ear.
“I’ll wait here until you’re done,” he typed. “Text me if you need me to come get you, and I’ll be right there. I’m so proud of you.”
I gripped his hands in mine, levelling my gaze on his. “Thank you,” I breathed, peering up at him. “For being here. This would all be so much harder without you.”
And then I pressed my lips to his, just a whisper, before withdrawing. Shay’s expression was tender. Vivi shot me a knowing grin, and there were a few “Yucks” and “Ewws” from the others. It was such a typical kid response, and the humour of the moment cut through my tension a little.
Shay and I shared a smile before I let go of his hands and stepped back, returning his air pod and flushing at the heat behind his smile, my heart pounding. We’d found our way back to a good place. It was impossible not to notice.
When he returned to the car to wait, I took Eamonn and Shelly’s hands, while Robbie and Vivi walked alongside us. It turned out Christmas Eve was a busy day for visitors, and we had to wait in line.
It was a surreal experience to go through the security check, prison guards searching our belongings and making sure we weren’t concealing any contraband. I was bothered when they searched Eamonn because he was so young, but I knew it was part and parcel of entering a prison.
Before long, we were brought to the visiting room, where lots of families sat at tables catching up. My gaze travelled across the room to where a familiar figure sat. Air stagnated in my lungs. She looked smaller than I remembered her, a few greys peppered through her hair that was an identical shade to mine. Our eyes met, and I didn’t feel how I expected to. Those last few years, my mother had been a phantom in my mind, a dark cloud that hovered over everything I did, every choice I made.
Now, looking at her, she just seemed like an ordinary, harmless middle-aged woman. Not someone to be feared. Then again, it was never a physical fear with her; it was an emotional one. She was the only person in the world who could shatter my confidence and reduce me to nothing with a few carefully chosen words.
Her gaze, which was blank and hard to gauge, left me, only brightening when she turned to the children. Vivi, Robbie and Shelly approached her first because they remembered her more, while Eamonn hung back, still holding my hand.
“Oh my God, look how big you’ve all gotten,” she said, taking in the elder three.
“Hi, Mam,” Vivi said, her eyes a little shiny.
“And Eamonn. My baby, what a little man you’ve grown into. Come here, so I can have a proper look at you.”
I sent him an encouraging glance, and he finally let go of my hand, shyly approaching Mam. I hung back, sitting at the farthest end of the table, while Mam asked the kids all sorts of questions about Ken and Delia, their school, friends, hobbies. They were such normal questions to ask, and I was strangely startled by the mundanity of it all. I’d been a ball of anxiety leading up to the visit, but now we were there, and it was all just so ordinary.
Then I noticed one or two of the other inmates cast wary glances Mam’s way. It tipped me off my mother had power in there. Whatever hierarchy existed in that small female prison, she’d climbed high, and she was feared.
“Mags,” Mam said, finally addressing me. “You’re looking well.”
“Thank you,” I replied stiffly. “You, too.”
She gave a scoff and let the lie slide, changing the subject. “How is your work? Are you still cleaning houses?”
I was about to reply that yes, I was still cleaning houses, because I didn’t want her knowing too much about my life.
“No, Maggie has a new job,” Vivi provided. “Her brother hired her.”
I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t blame Vivi for answering truthfully. She didn’t know Mam like I did, didn’t understand how she was the sort of person to use seemingly innocuous details against you. Then again, I had planned on bringing up Jonathan and my biological father who she’d lied to me about. I just hadn’t built up the nerve yet.
Something flickered behind Mam’s eyes. It was almost reptilian, and I started to remember she wasn’t harmless or ordinary. That was just the facade. Beneath it was a person who was always searching for weaknesses and opportunities. Bits of information she could use to her advantage.
“Your brother?” she asked, her tone casually curious.
“He’s Gerard Murphy’s son,” I stated bluntly. “You know, the father you never told me about? He found me because Gerard died about a year ago, and his name was on my birth certificate.”
She folded her arms and sat back. “Yeah, well, you weren’t missing out on anything. I did you a favour not telling you about that rat bastard.”
Eamonn’s eyes grew wide, while Shelly let out a little gasp hearing the swear word.
