Page 59 of The Rebound
“Dad said he never liked him.”
“Dad was half in love with the man,” Louise huffs. “But he loves you more so, of course, he’d say that. What did Mam say?”
“She was more concerned about the wedding plans.”
“You know she was worried about you right? As soon as the news of MacFarlane broke. She lost her mind with it.”
I sigh, feeling bad. “I should have spoken to them more at the time.”
“You had to look after yourself first. They get that. Plus they’ve always been a little bit in awe of you. Their genius child with too much confidence for her own good.”
“And you?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. “Were you in awe of me?”
“I seem to be the only one who remembers you thinking that it only rained when you personally did something bad.”
“Because that’s what Dadtoldme.”
“Or that time you were convinced that cow was following you home from—”
“Okay,” I interrupt. “I get it.”
She smirks as it becomes my turn to scowl.
“Of course I was in awe of you,” she says, surprising me. “I still am. You decided what you wanted to do and you did it. Everyone thought you would drop out of MacFarlane. Everyone thought you would drop out of college. Hell, everyone thought you would drop out of honors maths at school but you did it. Every time. You proved everyone wrong. And you’ll do it again.”
“Careful,” I say, trying not to show how touched I am by her words. “That almost sounds like a compliment.”
“Yeah, well…” She looks away, clearing her throat. “Is that it? Any more bombshells to tell me about?”
“Not today.”
“Then do you want to help triple-count our signups?”
Her finger traces random shapes on the table as she waits for my answer. It’s probably the closest we’ll get to a hug.
“I’d love to,” I say.
And when Tomasz returns five minutes later he finds us side by side, doing just that.
13
It gets a little easier after that. A week passes and with it my initial leaving date and suddenly there’s no more pretending that I’m here for a visit but for as long as it takes. And while a job doesn’t magically fall into my lap, it’s nice not to lie to people anymore. Nice not to have to pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not.
Louise gives me the old laptop to work from and I throw myself back into the job hunt, reaching out to every contact I have from New York, from London, from friends of friends Jess sends my way. Some respond to my emails, some even lead to first-round phone calls but the answer is always the same. There are simply too many of us looking for the same jobs and no matter my experience or my skill, the door remained closed.
I don’t see Luke. He must have meant it when he said he was barely around. Beth tells me that with the schools off for Easter he’s wrapped up in the sports camps for a bit of extra cash on top of studying. We ended things well at the fair, but I can never think of an excuse to stay late enough to see him again. Instead, I take to sitting on the bench in the café, working away while Beth chats to me and the slowly increasing number of customers who come in as the season changes.
The good weather and the Easter break draw families to the village and, as if on cue, a handful of pop-up stores and restaurants join them, meaning the vacant streets aren’t so vacant. Beth’s slushie machine gets dusted off and I convince her to move the bench back and display it in the window in order to compete with the new gelato place across the road.
One day, toward the end of the week, Rory comes back for the promised beach trip and this time is accompanied by his wife.
Sinead is a petite redheaded woman with a fake tan line up to her neck, who looks at me skeptically as soon as I get into the back seat of his car.
“Rory says you were his first girlfriend,” she says by way of introduction. “I didn’t believe him.”
“It’s true,” I say. “For a very angsty four months.”
“Told you,” he mutters, and she turns to him with an impressed look.
