Page 38 of Every Christmas Eve
‘I’ll get you a glass of red,’ I say, doing my best to keep my cool. ‘And a few packs of peanuts for old times’ sake?’
‘I’m looking forward to it already.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lou
We clink glasses.
‘Slàinte,’ he says to me, his voice a lot more casual than his demeanour suggests. I play along, both of us hesitant to cross the bridge of time that sits between us.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ I croak, hoping we get round the inevitable small talk, and fast. ‘I sometimes wondered if it would ever happen.’
‘It’s been what? Four hours or so?’ he says, glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘I always said you’d got it bad.’
I’m glad to see he hasn’t lost his sense of humour.
‘Very funny,’ I reply, doing my best not to stare now that it’s just the two of us. ‘I wrote a reply to your text at least ten times but couldn’t find the right words. Then it was time to be here, so I thought I’d take a chance and just show up instead, hoping you would too. I’m sorry for leaving you … what is it they say these days?’
‘You left me “on read”,’ he laughs. ‘In modern times that’s deemed the ultimate insult. I won’t take it personally.’
‘Phew,’ I reply. ‘Gosh, I’d hate to be a young person on the dating scene these days. Such pressure.’
He wears a navy sweater that looks soft to touch, but it’s not my place to do so after all this time. He’s aged of course. Lines are etched on his face, while his hair is greying at the temples. Time is a thief. It has robbed us both of so much, yet enriched us with a lot more than we will ever catch up on. Two very different paths taken, and two very different lives built.
‘I hope my message wasn’t pushy.’
I chuckle at his suggestion. It was far from pushy. It was perfect.
‘No, it wasn’t pushy at all, but it did take me very much by surprise,’ I admit, feeling the doors of honesty slide open already. I’d coached myself for the past hour on how to play this cool should I go ahead and accept his invitation under the guise of picking my brain on how best to organise the party. ‘I hope you know how much this means to the community.’
‘What, me coming back into the village on my white horse?’ he laughs. ‘Didn’t you hear the fanfares and see the parades?’
‘It was the talk of the village. Your big return in all your crowning glory,’ I reply. His face is like an old favourite book, but now it has its own very different story. ‘I got a huge welcome myself when I arrived back from New York. It’s not all about you, Ben Heaney. You may have had fanfares and parades, but I have been given the freedom of the village. And an elephant to carry me through the town on request.’
‘I’m sure you have,’ he says, his eyes crinkling at the sides. I hold on to the stem of my wine glass like it’s a lifesaver, and in many ways it’s the crutch I needed earlier. At least it gives me something to do with my hands. ‘But seriously, Lou. Why did you come back here? I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘By accident,’ I admit to him swiftly. ‘Gracie spotted an opportunity, then the rest fell into place like it was almost meant to be. I think village life in Ireland might suit me much better than a big city like New York after all, though I do have moments of unwavering doubt that I’ve taken a giant leap backwards. I suppose time will tell.’
We skirt over the small stuff and the big stuff too, our daughters being the perfect icebreakers as we both do our best to settle into the moment while avoiding the urge to skip to the highlights of days gone by.
‘Work is busy, thank goodness,’ he tells me. ‘I’ve an amazing partner in Matt, who also happens to be my best friend, so that helps. Who’d have thought when we were delivering that baby foal, I’d end up making a career out of it.’
‘Well, if you ever need a hand, you know I’m not too far away,’ I joke. ‘You’ve been through a very hard time, Ben. I’m sorry.’
He lifts his pint and thinks for a moment.
‘As have you,’ he says, as graceful and humble as he ever was. ‘You’ve made a big move coming home after creating a life for you and Gracie out there.’
I get the feeling he doesn’t want to get too maudlin about Stephanie, so I leave it at that.
‘In the beginning, I was like a square peg in a round hole in New York,’ I explain, ‘but in time I found my own feet. I’d no choice but to when my darling husband ran off with the kindergarten teacher. They are now living happily ever after with their two young children.’
He looks genuinely surprised. I thought he may have heard on the grapevine, but it seems not.
‘I should be asking why you stayed in New York for so long then, if that’s the case, rather than why you came back,’ he says, looking right at me for the first time since I got here. I order another drink. He barely catches his breath. ‘You deserved so much better than that, Lou. You should have told me what you were going through out there.’
I rewind the years, calculating almost to the day when it was that John packed his bags and left our New York apartment. I physically shiver.
