Page 125 of The Matchmaker
“Katie.” She squeezes my fingers, looking exasperated. “You know this isn’t your fault, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
But I must sound as unsure as I feel, because she just looks at me for a long moment before shaking her head. “Sometimes, I think I should have encouraged you to leave more when you were younger,” she says. “Kicked you out of the house and packed you off to college whether you wanted to or not.”
“You don’t want me living with you?”
“Of course I do. Don’t be ridiculous. But I know how much you’ve had to take on in the last few years. And I know how much I’ve let you. I don’t intend to leave this life anytime soon, but the last thing I want for you is to spend the best years of yours worrying about me every moment.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Don’t you?”
I fall silent.
She’s been there for me since my parents died and she’s supposed to stay forever. And every time something like this happens, every time a task that once came easy to her becomes too difficult, every time we get instructions for new medication and new ways to live, it kills me a little inside. I didn’t realize how long I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. And how unprepared I still was for it.
“It’s not your job to look after everyone,” she says, when I don’t respond. “Between me and the pub and your friends it’s a miracle you’re still standing most days.”
“You sound like Gemma now.”
“Well, a word of advice, Katie. If a single working mother says you’re doing too much, you should probably listen.”
“You’re not too much,” I chastise. “I like looking after you. Iwantto look after you. I love you.”
“I know you do,” she says, squeezing my hand again. “And I love you more than you can possibly imagine.”
“So stop talking like you’re—”
“Just let me get this out,” she says with the sameyou’re giving me a headachelook I remember from my childhood. Even now, it shuts me up.
“I never expected to raise another child,” she says finally. “And I’m still not sure how I didn’t mess this up. How I didn’t messyouup. Even when you were a teenager you were as good as gold. To the point where I almost wanted you to rebel, just to see what you’d do. I know how lucky I am to have you. I’m grateful every day for it, and I’m so proud of you. So proud. But…” She pauses then, her eyes growing damp. “But I know,” she continues, a little more slowly. “That that pride would pale in comparison to how your parents would feel if they could see you now.”
“Granny,” I begin, and she shushes me, putting her other hand on top of our clasped ones.
“They loved you very much,” she says. “So much it terrified them at the start. And I wish they could have seen how you’ve grown. I wish they got a chance to meet the exceptional young woman you turned out to be. You are hardworking, and generous, and you care deeply. I know you do. But life moves faster than you think. One day you might have a family of your own and you’ll have to put them first. So right now, I want you to make time for you. I want you to make choices for you. For whatyouwant. No matter if that’s staying right where you are or traveling the world. I want you to be selfish because I know you can do that without being cruel. I want you to be happy. That’s all I want in the whole world, Katie. For you to look me in the eye and tell me you’re happy.”
“I am.”
“But do you mean it?”
“Yes,” I say. “I promise you. I promise that I’m happy. I promise I’m right where I need to be. Where I want to be.”
She relaxes as I say the words, knowing I’m telling the truth. “Good,” she says. “That’s good.”
“You sounded like you were saying goodbye,” I accuse, and she scoffs.
“I have a few years left me in yet,” she says. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
She lets go of my hand, sniffing dramatically as she nods her head to the crossword book. “Well, pass me that. Might as well do something to pass the time here.”
“As if you wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing at home,” I tell her and spend the next while dutifully reading out the clues and filling in the answers as she gets every single one right.
* * *
The nurse tells me it will be a while before I get an update and Granny grows tired, so I leave her to rest and head back to the waiting room, only to stop dead in the entrance.
Jack Doyle sits on the far side, his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands as he slowly rubs his face as though trying to wake himself up.
