Page 136 of One Night Only
I turn guiltily as the door opens, so nervous I can barely speak, but one look at his face stops me in my tracks.
“It’s Mam,” he says, palming the phone nervously. “She was in a car crash.”
“Oh my God. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. I think so. Paul says she’s refusing to go to the hospital.”
“Paul’s with her?” I ask, confused. “In Ireland?”
“No, she’s here,” he says and I remember what Annie said about Mary coming to stay. “She’s over visiting friends. Annie was driving. Paul says she’s fine,” he adds seeing the panic on my face. “But Mam hit her head and…”
“You have to go see her.”
He nods, as though relieved I supplied the answer. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he mumbles, slipping the phone into his pocket. He runs a hand through his hair and heads toward the door but only gets to the kitchen island when he hesitates and turns back to me. I’m already moving, grabbing my purse where it’s slung over the sofa and slipping my sandals on.
“I’m coming too.”
“You don’t have to.”
I give him a look telling him to shut up and he nods gratefully, too distracted to argue, and thirty seconds later we’re out the door, hailing a cab.
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 sayI’mthe 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.”
