Quiet Types, page 7
“I got you something,” I said, pulling the cosy wool jumper from the bag and placing it in his lap. “It’s for the winter,” I went on. “So, you won’t be cold.”
Eamonn nodded, his small fists gripping the jumper as he stared at the blue material.
“Thanks, Maggie,” he said quietly.
I kept my arm around him, and we sat for a while watching Robbie resume his computer game. Vivi told me what a great time she had at Glendalough, and Shelly talked about the new girl in her class who she’d befriended. Eamonn remained glued to my side the whole time, and when I had to leave, I sensed he didn’t want me to go.
That wasn’t unusual. Eamonn had always been very clingy with me, and I wondered if it was because I looked so much like her—like our mother. But that couldn’t be right. As I’d said, he was only a baby when she went away.
By the time I got home that evening, I felt drained from both the interaction with Shay and Delia’s accusation I wanted to take the kids from her. I made myself some soup for dinner, not feeling very hungry.
I slept in the next day and tried not to look at my clock. I spent my time tidying my flat and listening to the end of my audiobook. The following morning, I was full of nerves because I knew I was going to see Shay, and I wasn’t sure how to act. I could’ve continued getting an earlier bus, but it had been a nuisance doing that over the last week. It put my schedule off, and I was too exhausted to keep trying to avoid him. I just needed to get back to normal, even if it meant seeing him and feeling the discomfort of what he now knew about me.
I reached the bus stop, but he wasn’t there yet. Nervously chewing on my thumbnail, I spotted him arriving just as the bus approached. I didn’t have time to say anything because people were queuing up, and I had to get in line. When I climbed on and took my seat, I found myself staring at the floor, my attention on the shoes that passed me by. I didn’t know if I wanted Shay to sit next to me or not, but then an older man took the seat next to mine, and I watched as Shay’s boots walked by. Lifting my head slightly, I saw him take his usual seat, and my heart sank.
Were we back to that?
Back to being strangers?
The journey passed almost in slow motion. I wanted to turn around and look at him so many times, but I never did. When we reached our stop, we alighted, and he caught my eye briefly. There was a question there, but I couldn’t interpret it.
Emotionally, I was all muddled up as I headed to work. It was a good thing it was my least taxing day of the week. I cleaned two penthouse apartments on Mondays. Both were at the top of a prestigious luxury complex and were owned by a man named Jonathan Oaks.
I knew very little about Jonathan, other than the fact he worked in the financial sector and was rarely home. I’d only met him in person twice, once during my interview and once again on my first day when he showed me around the apartments. He was a handsome, tall, fair-haired man who wore an expensive looking suit and fancy shoes. I judged him to be in his late thirties or early forties, and I hadn’t laid eyes on him since. He was always at work when I arrived. My routine was to collect the keys for the penthouses from the security desk in the lobby and return them when I was done at the end of the day.
Both penthouses were almost identical; though, I could tell Jonathan only lived in one of them. I wasn’t entirely sure what the other was meant for, but I knew it was rarely occupied because it didn’t require much cleaning. I wondered if perhaps he only kept it as an investment and would sell it off at some point in the future. It seemed a waste to own such a large apartment and not live in it, but Jonathan Oaks clearly didn’t inhabit the same world I did.
Even the apartment he did occupy was never very messy. I’d left a message on his phone my first week working for him, stating I probably only needed to spend half a day cleaning. He’d replied insisting I spend the full day and do the job properly. It had bothered me he’d thought I was trying to get out of doing a good job, but I didn’t argue. If he wanted to pay me for a full day’s work when I could spend half the hours relaxing in a penthouse apartment that overlooked the city, then that was fine by me.
I started with the bathrooms, then moved on to the main bedroom. It was large, with a king-sized bed and luxury furnishings; though, something that always struck me about Mr Oaks’ home was it didn’t feel like a home. Though beautiful, the penthouse felt incredibly lifeless. It was barely lived in. Everything was brand new, nothing worn out or threadbare. It sounded strange, but those things were what made a place feel cosy. The armchair that had a bit of a dip in it because it was sat in so often, or the side table that had a spot of discolouration from so many cups of tea being set down on it.
Mr Oaks’ penthouse didn’t have any of those things. No signs of a life lived within those walls. Nor were there any photographs or evidence he might have a family or even a girlfriend. Sure, there was art, expensive paintings. But I couldn’t be sure if he was a collector or if, like the unused apartment next door, he bought them only as investments. It made me feel sorry for him, rich as he was. Weird, right? Someone like me feeling sorry for someone like him. But what was the point of being so wealthy when you had no one to share it with? When you worked all the time and didn’t even enjoy the beautiful penthouse you lived in?
These thoughts had me considering my own life. My tiny flat might be cosy, but it was still as lonely as Jonathan Oaks’ penthouse at times. Sure, I had an occasional friend in Siobhan, and I went to visit my siblings on the weekends, but other than that, I had no one. I lived a solitary life, but more and more, I yearned for something else, for someone to share my days with. A partner. Hell, I’d even settle for a friend.
As I scrubbed clean the sink, my mind wandered to Shay, how we’d gone back to the same old pattern of being strangers on the bus. I didn’t want that, I realised. I didn’t want us to be strangers. I wanted to know him. Yes, I was attracted to him, but I was also drawn to him as a person. I wanted to know who he was beneath the surface.
And maybe, just maybe, I could work my way up to revealing something of myself, too. I could find the courage to show him a glimmer of my true self and hopefully not be rejected. Staying isolated kept me safe in a way, but it also created a deep yearning for more. For connection.
Perhaps denying yourself something just made you want it so much more in the long run.
At the end of the day, I dropped the keys back to the guard at the security desk and headed for the bus stop, a plan in mind. I was going to sit next to Shay. I was going to put myself out there because, even though I didn’t know if he liked me the same way I liked him, he might at least want to be my friend, and that would be good enough.
There weren’t too many people waiting when I arrived at the bus stop. I made eye contact with Shay as we boarded, allowing him to go ahead. I followed behind and saw the surprise on his face when I stopped by his seat.
“Mind if I sit?” I asked with a nervous smile as he stared up at me with those stunning grey-green eyes. He blinked, then nodded, standing up and offering me the window seat. I slid by him, my shoulder brushing his arm as I sat, and he retook his seat on the aisle. The entire time I sat there, my heart pounded. I felt his eyes on my profile and turned to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry for how I acted the last time we—”
He shook his head and placed his hand on top of mine as if to say, You don’t need to apologise. I nodded and swallowed thickly as he removed his hand, feeling emotional by his kind acceptance. Perhaps there was no need to feel ashamed of my dyslexia around Shay. I didn’t know how long he’d been mute, but surely, he’d faced prejudice from certain people when they discovered his inability to speak. Not everyone was understanding when it came to being different.
“There’s an adult literacy class at the library in the evenings,” I said, and his eyes remained fixed on me as he quietly listened. “I’ve been meaning to go for a long time, but I’ve never plucked up the courage.”
His eyes gentled, like he understood, and some of the shame evaporated. Okay, Maggie, he’s not rejecting you. Time to keep being honest about yourself.
“I have dyslexia,” I continued, “And I never finished school, so … well, I don’t know how bad it is compared to others or what my reading capabilities might be if I tried to grapple with it instead of ignoring it. Anyway, that’s why I couldn’t read your messages, or well, why I can read them, but it takes me longer. I hope you didn’t think I was being rude. I was just embarrassed. I’m a thirty-one-year-old woman who never learned to read properly.”
Again, he gave me a gentle look that said he wasn’t holding anything against me, and I relaxed further. “I guess this means it’s going to be tough for us to communicate. You, um, you write down what you want to say to people who don’t know sign language?”
He nodded.
I sighed. “Right, that makes things difficult.”
Shay shrugged then stared at me meaningfully, his eyes full of reassurance, as if to say, We’ll figure it out.
My heart pounded in relief because I wanted to get to know him. It felt good to just be up front and honest about myself for a change instead of avoiding people, so I wouldn’t have to reveal things I was self-conscious about.
“Maybe you could teach me some sign language?” I suggested, and he smiled and nodded. I smiled back and tried to not stare at him too much because he was very handsome up close. It was hard to drag my eyes away. I cleared my throat and continued, “Okay, how do I say hello?”
In answer, Shay lifted his hand and gave a thumbs up. I mimicked his movements, and he bobbed his head to let me know I’d done it correctly. “And goodbye?” I went on.
He made a small wave, and again, I mimicked him. “Guess those are pretty self-explanatory, huh? How do I say, how are you today?”
Again, he showed me the hand symbols, though it took me a bit longer to get than the simple hello and goodbye gestures. By the time our journey came to an end, Shay had taught me some basic conversational pieces, but I was eager to learn more. I decided I’d look up some videos of Irish Sign Language when I got home. I wanted to be able to talk with him about more than just the weather or complain the bus was five minutes late again.
The next few days went by, and we sat together every day on the bus. It felt exhilarating to have a new friend. It surprised me how something as small as having a connection with another human being could brighten up my world. Every morning when I woke up, I looked forward to seeing him, to figuring out a way to communicate with him given the limited tools at our disposal.
I managed to fumble my way through some simple greetings in sign language. It was frustrating because I wanted to have a full conversation, but the barrier was always there, preventing us. It made me think about how everyday life must be for him. He worked as a security guard in a hotel, and although it wasn’t a job that required a whole lot of talking, I knew it had to be difficult trying to interact with his coworkers, as well as the hotel guests, when the need arose. Was he always paired with someone else who could do the talking? Did he feel separate in a city full of people who probably never seemed to shut up?
I was just glad he’d decided to let me in. I no longer felt so alone in my life, and all because I sat next to a silent man each day on the way to and from work. We were just two people sharing journeys. Nothing complicated, just company, yet it was the most exciting thing that had happened to me in years.
I managed to get through my weekly shift at Mrs Reynolds’ house without bumping into her, which was always a relief. Then it was Friday, and Marco gave me some leftover cupcakes he’d made for the Connollys to take home with me. I readily took them and walked to the bus stop with a swing in my step. I had the cupcakes in a lunch box in my tote bag when I spotted Shay was already there waiting. I smiled. Seeing him had quickly become not just the most exciting part of my day but also my favourite part.
Hi, I signed at him. I could’ve easily just said hello, but I was trying to become more confident with this form of communication. Often, I felt silly, like I wasn’t doing it right, but Shay was patient. He was a good teacher.
Hi, he signed back, and I went to stand next to him. As usual on a Friday, there were lots of other people waiting, and it was raining, so we were all huddled under the shelter. I stood much closer to Shay than I normally did and caught a whiff of his cologne. My stomach erupted into butterflies when I glanced up and found him gazing at my profile. Shyly, I turned away, but his closeness created an electricity that was hard to ignore. More people arrived, and his hand went to my hip to steady me as I stepped back. My shoulders met his chest, and I looked at him again. His expression was intense, and my throat went dry.
I inhaled sharply, about to say something, I wasn’t sure what, when the bus arrived, and people began clambering on. I turned and felt Shay’s warmth close behind me when I climbed aboard and took a seat. When he slid in next to me, just as he’d done all week, his thigh pressed against mine, which was something he hadn’t done before.
I was full of flutters and tried to distract myself by pulling out the box of cupcakes. Shay eyed them with interest.
“Want one?” I asked. “Marco, the chef who works for the Connollys—that’s the family I clean for on Fridays—he gave them to me. He always makes my lunches, and he’s the best cook I know. Here, try one.”
Shay glanced at the box again, but now he was frowning as he shook his head. Confused, I returned the cupcakes to my tote bag and wondered why he suddenly looked annoyed. Was it because of my mentioning Marco? There’d been a fondness in my voice Shay might’ve misinterpreted.
“Marco’s not …” I trailed off, feeling self-conscious before finally finishing, “He’s just someone I work with.”
Shay’s eyes met mine, wide and curious, before he nodded and looked away. I chewed my lip, wondering if I’d made things awkward by clarifying. Maybe he frowned because he didn’t eat sugar or because he was gluten intolerant. I felt like a fool for just assuming his frown was down to me mentioning another man.
We didn’t speak for a while, and there was a new intensity between us. I sensed he wanted to say something, but he didn’t do anything until we were just a few minutes away from our stop. His hand touched the top of mine, which was something he often did when he wanted my attention. Every time he did it, I had to ignore the zip of awareness that shot through me at his touch.
“Shay?” I asked and his eyes fell to my lips for a moment before he pulled out his phone and typed something. I grew nervous, but then when he showed me the phone there were only two words written. It didn’t take me long to read them.
Sunday dinner?
He was asking me to dinner at his house, just as his dad had invited me before. I hadn’t shown up, and I still felt bad about it, but things were different now. We were friends. Bus companions. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t live a life like Jonathan Oaks, all alone. I wanted to let people in, and Shay was the person I wanted to let in most of all.
That was why I lifted my head and replied, “You’re inviting me to Sunday dinner at your house?”
He nodded, his expression hopeful, and my chest tingled. “Okay,” I whispered, and his eyes flared like he hadn’t expected me to accept. A silence fell before I asked, “Um, what time?”
Shay held up two fingers.
“Two o’clock?”
Again, he nodded.
“All right. Should I bring anything?”
He shook his head and signed something. It took me a moment to translate it as, Just you.
I flushed and smiled. “In that case, I’m looking forward to it.”
Me, too, he signed.
When we reached our stop, we got off, and my pulse fluttered when I felt Shay’s hand briefly press against the small of my back. “See you Sunday,” I said just before I left and turned in the direction of my flat.
Saturday felt like it lasted forever, but I busied myself with laundry and various chores.
On Sunday, I spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready. In the end, I picked out my best pair of jeans and a pale blue jumper. I left my hair down and put on a pair of small hoop earrings. My flat was walking distance to Adam’s Row, about fifteen minutes, and the weather was nice, so I only needed a light jacket. When I reached Shay’s street, I paused and scanned the houses, looking for number 10. As soon as I spotted it, I checked my watch. I was five minutes early, but that was okay, right?
The front garden was neatly maintained with rows of rosemary and lavender leading up to the door. I wondered who did the gardening, Shay or his dad? I opened the old metal gate and walked towards the front door, my heart in my throat the whole time. I couldn’t believe I was about to have dinner at Shay’s house. For months, I’d obsessed about him and now, there we were in one another’s lives.
It felt a little surreal.
I knocked three times, then waited. I heard a dog bark from what sounded like the back garden. A moment later, the door opened, and Shay appeared. He wore jeans and a green jumper, the dark shade almost matching his eyes. He gave me his usual thumbs up greeting, which I returned, then he stepped aside for me to come in. I stood in his hallway as he closed the door before turning to face me. He motioned to my jacket.
“You want to take my jacket?” He nodded. “Oh, sure, thank you.” He helped me take it off, his knuckles brushing my shoulders. “Sorry I’m a little early. The walk here didn’t take as long as I expected.”
He waved away my apology before a dog came running down the hallway. It looked like the black version of a golden retriever and was very friendly as it barrelled into me. I chuckled and knelt, petting its head and seeing it wore a collar with a small metal pendent that read “Daniel.” It made me smile because I loved when dogs were given ordinary people names.
“Hello, Daniel, aren’t you a gorgeous boy,” I cooed, ruffling his silky fur.
Shay made a sort of low whistling noise, and the dog instantly looked up at him. He made a motion with his hand, and the dog scurried off back the way he came.
