My Pear-Shaped Life: The most gripping and heartfelt page-turner of 2020!

by Harrington, Carmel

  Greta told him about life in the centre. Dylan listened. He was a good listener, always had been. She told him as much.

  ‘It’s easier to listen.’

  ‘Because of your stammer? Or should I call it a stutter? Sorry, I probably should know!’

  ‘I prefer stutter,’ he said. ‘That’s how it fffeels to get words out. A stut, stut, stut.’

  Greta thought that there was something wrong that someone as lovely as Dylan spent the majority of his life fading into the background so that he didn’t have to speak out loud.

  ‘Is it a pain?’ Greta asked. ‘Living with the stutter?’

  He shrugged. ‘Sometimes. It’s embarrassing when words get stuck. Ess … Essp … when people jump in to fffinish my words.’

  ‘Oh that would drive me mad,’ Greta agreed.

  ‘You never do,’ he said. ‘And you never play charades with my sentences.’

  She thought about this for a moment, then the penny dropped. ‘You mean people are guessing what you mean to say instead of waiting for you to finish your sentence?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’ve been getting a lot wrong lately. It’s nice that I got that right.’

  ‘I think you get more right than you realize. You can get through this. I believe in you.’

  He didn’t stammer. It was as clear a sentence as Greta had ever heard. And when she said goodnight to him, the thought that kept ringing through her head was, Dylan believes in me. Maybe it’s time I started to believe in myself too.

  Chapter 30

  Breakfast should have been awkward the next morning. But somehow, Dylan’s arrival and Billie and Ray’s rekindled romance balanced each other out.

  ‘Are you coming with us to Vegas?’ Ray asked.

  ‘If yyyou … if yyyou …’

  Ray began to speak, but Greta shook her head to shut him up, letting Dylan finish.

  ‘… dddon’t mind.’

  ‘More the merrier,’ Ray answered.

  ‘I’m a blow-in too,’ Billie said, then blushed as Ray pulled her into his arms, showing that she was anything but.

  ‘Ewwwww …’ Greta groaned.

  Billie insisted on taking the first stint of driving, telling them they’d thank her for it. Ray sat beside her as co-pilot with Greta and Dylan in the back. As soon as they left the city, the road began to climb.

  ‘We’re driving through the Colorado Rockies. That’s another tick on our wish list,’ Ray whispered. ‘It feels like a dream.’ His eyes scanned left, right, straight ahead as he took in every angle.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before,’ Greta exclaimed. ‘It’s so different from the terrain we had in Kansas.’ The road wound through the rugged and steep rocky, snow-capped mountains.

  ‘This road can get busy at weekends when the skiers head to the mountain slopes. You’ll see the resorts a bit further on,’ Billie said. ‘Buffalo Bill’s grave is on top of Lookout Mountain. That’s next on your list.’

  The road up was steep, and at times so narrow, they had to pull in to let traffic pass them by. Billie parked the car in the visitors’ parking lot. ‘Careful, they haven’t gritted the ground yet.’

  They walked gingerly across the snow towards the lookout.

  Ray said, ‘I can understand why he wanted to be buried here.’

  They took pictures of each other with the spectacular backdrop of the Great Plains and the Rockies. It was cold, four below freezing, and more snow was forecast later that day. They spent an hour looking around the museum and bought some souvenirs in the gift shop. And, finally, they made their way up the narrow track to Buffalo Bill’s final resting place.

  As they reached the top, the sun came out, making the white snow glisten on his grave. He was buried with his wife Louisa, overlooking the mountains and plains where he’d spent the happiest times of his life.

  ‘He was from Wexford you know,’ Ray said. ‘Or at least his father was. A Cody from the Bullring.’

  ‘I never knew that,’ Billie said.

  ‘Plenty of cowboys in Wexford all right,’ Greta joked, making them all laugh.

  ‘And he was a feminist. He’s well known for advocating equal pay and voting rights for women. Annie Oakley was paid the same as the men in his Wild West shows,’ Billie said.

  ‘He’s going on my fantasy dinner party list,’ Greta said, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat to him. ‘He had to reinvent himself so many times when things went wrong. But he never gave up. I like that about him.’

  ‘To never giving up,’ Billie whispered, and they each chanted the same refrain.

  They continued their drive through the Rockies, slowly, taking in the beauty around them. Billie stopped to refuel again, even though the car still had half a tank. Dylan’s face made them laugh hysterically when he found out that they all had to do a quick ten-minute exercise class with Billie.

  ‘If you’re on this road trip, you’re automatically a member of Billie’s Gas Station Boot Camp,’ Greta told him.

  And after her tenth jumping jack, Greta realized that she had stopped caring what anyone thought about her. Maybe that was something else she was throwing out of her cupboard.

  Having someone with them who knew the area somewhat was a considerable benefit. Billie made a quick detour to Georgetown, a small mining town just off the I70, nestled in the shade of the Rockies.

  ‘I’m sure I’ve seen a Hallmark Christmas movie filmed here,’ Greta said. Street lamps and garlands hanging between the old buildings were covered in a powder of white snow.

  ‘Look,’ Dylan said to Greta. He handed her a brochure that outlined the history of the old mining town. Founded in 1859, Georgetown was also known as ‘The Silver Queen of the Rockies’ because silver had been discovered there instead of gold in the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush. ‘Silver Lady and the Silver Queen, together.’ He snapped a few photos of her.

  ‘You still haven’t told me why you call me that. Is it because of my grey hairs?’ She tried to twist her hair in front of her eyes to see if she’d sprouted more since she arrived in America.

  He laughed but left her guessing.

  They wandered down Main Street, which had an eclectic mix of gift shops, filled with paintings and crafts from local artists. Then they took a ride on the Georgetown Loop Railroad, which brought them on a tour of the town’s back yard.

  Ray sat beside Billie with his arm over her shoulder. ‘Smile,’ Greta said to them, taking a snap of them both as they looked over towards her. Greta looked at the photo she’d just taken and felt a lump in her throat growing. To her horror, she began to cry.

  ‘What’s wrong!’ Ray said, leaning in towards her.

  ‘Nothing. It’s seeing you two like this, you look so happy. It’s lovely. And then I thought to myself, I’m really happy too.’

  ‘Oh love,’ Ray said, reaching across the aisle to her.

  ‘I haven’t felt like this in such a long time,’ Greta sobbed. She looked around her, at the stunning views they were passing in this old-fashioned steam train. At her friends and loved ones who were with her here, sharing this magical moment. She threw her arms in the air above her and cried, ‘I’m alive. I’m so fecking happy to be alive.’

  Ray threw his arms in the air and shouted, ‘Me too! I’m so fecking happy to be alive!’

  Dylan shrugged and decided one for all and all for one. So he swung his arms in the air too and shouted, ‘Mmmeee three!’

  Billie said, ‘If y’all keep shouting like that, there’ll be an avalanche, then none of us will be fecking alive!’

  ‘Come on Billie. Throw out some of that stuff from your cupboard,’ Greta cried. ‘Admit it, you’re happy to be alive.’

  And to her surprise, Billie realized that – right now – that was true. She hadn’t had as much fun as she’d had this week in years. Decades, even. So she joined in.

  It was one of those moments in life that would stay with them for ever. When they recounted it in years to come, they could n
ever convey the importance of it to anyone else. It would always be a you-had-to-be-there moment for the four of them. Unforgettable.

  Chapter 31

  They drove through the skiing resort in Vail, a small town at the base of Vail Mountain. They stopped for hot chocolate and watched the skiers swoosh down the mountainside, elegant, fast, leaving a dusty trail behind them. They continued on to Glenwood Springs where they stayed for the night. The receptionist in their hotel told them that a visit to the Glenwood Hot Springs Pool was a must, as it had fifteen minerals that would do anybody good. For Greta, going to the beach or the swimming pool always made her feel uncomfortable. The thought of putting on a swimsuit, even one with a skirt to cover up her fat thighs, beside Billie in her cute bikini, was hard. But she was trying out this whole new world of giving zero fucks. So she pulled a bathrobe around her never-used-before navy swimsuit and made her way with the others to the hot springs.

  Ray, as usual, had a leaflet in his hand, ready to play tour manager. ‘The therapeutic spring waters are called Yampah – that’s Native Indian, by the way, and it means Big Medicine.’

  ‘Colorado is famous for its springs. People have been coming for pilgrimages to the area for years,’ Billie said.

  ‘We’re pilgrims too,’ Greta said. The pool sat at the base of the mountains. With twilight closing in, the lights of the hotel and surrounding the poolside flickered on the water. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

  ‘How hot is it?’ Greta asked, looking at the steam rising. She dipped her toe in. ‘Oh, it’s glorious.’

  They removed their robes and sank themselves into the steamy pool. Nobody looked at Greta and judged her. And, for the first time in a long time, Greta stopped judging herself too. Amid the snow-dusted peaks, they let the mineral-rich springs rejuvenate them.

  Dylan admitted that jet lag had caught up with him, so they all had an early night. Which meant that they could have an early start the next day. The road provided non-stop, stunning views. They had plenty more opportunities for roadside stops too. And soon the vista changed once more, as the rugged Rockies became the red rock of Utah. They found a ghost town called Cisco in Grand County and stopped to take some pictures in front of some of the remaining buildings.

  ‘Thelma and Louise was filmed here,’ Greta said, feeling excited to stand on the same ground as Susan Sarandon. She sent the pictures to her mam, who loved that movie, and always thought she’d a look of Susan Sarandon about her.

  ‘If we drive for another hour or so, we can stop in Moab,’ Ray suggested. ‘That way we will arrive in Monument Valley nice and early.’

  It was Dylan who noticed the first flakes of snow dropping onto the windscreen as they drove. Greta thought it was rain when he pointed to them. Within a few moments, there was no doubt though. To their horror the road disappeared under a blanket of snow.

  ‘New plan,’ Ray said, slowing down to twenty miles per hour. ‘We find a hotel at the next exit.’

  ‘On it,’ Greta said, opening up her phone to search Google maps. ‘That’s weird. The next exit doesn’t have any hotels listed. Maybe there’s a small motel there that’s not recorded.’

  They travelled in silence, with Ray concentrating only on the road in front of him. He was behind two cars, who were also driving at a snail’s pace. Then one of them pulled into the side of the road, waited until the two cars behind him passed by, before rejoining at the back.

  ‘Tailgating. Clever thing to do,’ Billie said.

  ‘What happens if the car in front does the same?’ Greta whispered to Dylan.

  ‘Tttrouble,’ Dylan said.

  The next services sign had a big cross through it. As did the next two. And it became apparent that they were on the part of the interstate that had no services on them at all. The road was almost empty, except for the small convoy of cars they were travelling in.

  ‘Surely they will send out snowploughs?’ Greta asked. By this stage, there was at least four inches of snow on the ground. Ray focused on the tracks made by the car in front; there was little else to do.

  ‘We turn off the interstate for Moab in about five miles,’ Billie said.

  ‘Not unless the car in front is doing the same,’ Ray replied.

  Every muscle in Ray’s body was flexed as he concentrated on keeping the car on the road. If they veered off, he wasn’t sure he’d get them back on track again. They could be stuck for goodness knows how long. And at the rate the snow was coming down, they might freeze to death before anyone found them.

  ‘I’m scared,’ Greta whispered to Dylan. She reached over and clasped his hand.

  ‘It will be fine,’ Dylan said. But he was worried too.

  ‘Any sign of a hotel?’ Ray asked.

  ‘Nothing.’ All three answered him, their eyes all individually looking through Google.

  ‘The exit for Moab is about a mile up the road on the left,’ Billie said.

  ‘OK. If the car keeps going straight we follow. Agreed?’ Ray said. ‘Wherever he goes, we do too.’

  ‘Agreed,’ they all said. They all agreed with the logic behind this decision. None of them wanted to go down a road on their own, blind.

  But as luck would have it, the car turned left too. ‘About twenty miles to go to Moab. And it’s the nearest town to us, so we just have to keep going,’ Billie said.

  It took them over an hour to drive those twenty miles, but finally they reached their hotel in Moab. They checked into their rooms in silence, each of them exhausted and depleted from the adrenalin and fear.

  ‘Is there a bar nearby?’ Ray asked the receptionist.

  ‘There’s one across the road.’

  ‘That’s where I’ll be in five minutes,’ he told the others.

  ‘Go on without me,’ Greta said. ‘I’m going to take a shower first.’

  By the time she got to the bar nearly an hour later, Ray, Billie and Dylan had downed several drinks each.

  She watched from the door at the three of them sitting at the bar, with their backs to her. The barman said something, and they all roared with laughter. She recognized the sound. They were halfway to being drunk already.

  ‘Here she is!’ Ray said, waving Greta over. ‘The last of our white-knuckle-ride quartet. What would you like to drink?’

  ‘A Diet Coke please.’

  ‘Brandon, a Diet Coke for my niece. Greta, you’ve got to meet this guy, he’s hilarious. You won’t believe the rules in Utah. You can’t have more than one drink at once.’

  Brandon gave her the benefit of his best-winning smile and said, ‘Mormon laws.’

  ‘One drink at a time is OK for me,’ Greta said, and this seemed to send Ray, Billie and Dylan into hysterics. She tried her best to join in, but with every joke shared, every bout of laughter, she felt the black dog nipping at her heels. Today was the first day Greta had missed alcohol. And a dull ache in her head took root and grew by the second.

  ‘You OK?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘I’ve got a headache, to be honest. Would you mind if I leave you to it?’

  ‘I’ll go back with you,’ Dylan said.

  ‘No, you’re having fun. Stay, have a few drinks. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘I’ll walk you out.’

  They stood outside the bar and looked at each other. ‘I thought we were in real trouble back there,’ Greta said.

  ‘Me too … You pppromise you’re OK?’

  ‘I’m grand. Have fun with Ray and Billie. I’ll sleep this headache off and tomorrow I’ll be grand.’

  Dylan grabbed her hand and held it between his own. Then he pulled her towards him and into his embrace. She sank into his arms and heard her sigh join his. His hands moved lower, gently tracing the contours of her back, finally resting on her waist. He whispered her name but Greta couldn’t look him in the eye, all she could think about was the fact that his hands were touching her love handles. A part of her body that she always disguised with loosely draped clothing. Sh
e pulled away, before he realized how fat she was and felt the same disgust she did. ‘Go back inside, Dylan. I’ll see you in the morning. Go!’

  He walked back into the bar leaving Greta standing on the path, the weight of her embarrassment making her feet heavy. She looked up and down the busy main street. There was a supermarket up ahead, so she decided to get some painkillers for her headache. Greta made her way around the aisles, picking up and then putting back a bag of crisps several times. Then she remembered Caroline’s words. So she stuck an apple in too, to redress the balance. Then she made her way to the drugs aisle to get some paracetamol. She’d never seen so many over-the-counter medications in one place before. Every cure for an ache and pain, cough and cold, fever, allergy, skin disorder, heartburn and digestive issue was available in brightly coloured boxes.

  Then she saw them. Four rows full of sleeping aids, all promising a blissful night of undisturbed sleep. Greta thought about Ray, Billie and Dylan at the bar, drinking beer to numb the stress from their earlier near-death drive. And she thought, what about me? What do I get to take, to help numb my stress? And she thought about Dylan’s hand brushing her fat. It was too much. She needed an escape.

  The red poppy fields of The Wizard of Oz filled her mind and she wished she could fall into their opiate pillow. If these tablets were addictive like the ones she had taken at home, they wouldn’t be available over the counter. The thought snaked its way around her brain. Stop it! She moved away and searched the aisle for something for her headache. She threw a packet of Ibuprofen into her basket then ran to the tills.

  ‘Anything else for you today?’ The cashier said, smiling brightly.

  ‘Actually yes. One moment.’

  Chapter 32

  Ten minutes later, Greta placed the box of sleeping aids in the middle of the bed and stared at them. Her heart played the drums in her chest. Sweat prickled her skin. And her head ached so much that she thought she might vomit. She picked up the painkillers and swallowed two whole, with a glug of water.