by Sienna Blake
I practically leaned in closer to her, heart beating rapidly as I clung to her every word.
“You’ll know you’ve found love because whoever it may be, she’ll give you the courage to face that fear you’ve only ever run from. That’s how you’ll know.”
I sank back into my barstool and stared at the reflection of myself in the long mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles against the back of the bar. I sipped my whiskey as my wind whirled, a chaotic mess. Amongst the churning seas and crashing waves, one question was clear as the glare of a lighthouse through the sleet and rain:
Was I ready to stop running from my fears?
Darren
It was almost midnight. The neighbour’s dog was barking incessantly, and porch lights were flickering on one by one on either side of Eoin’s townhouse. But it would take the whirl of red and blue lights, the whine of a police car and even the cold metal of a pair of cuffs to get me to stop pounding on his front door.
I ignored the bleary eyes peering out at me from cracked blinds across the street and thudded my fist again against the white painted woodgrain. The doorbell resounded inside as I stabbed the button next to the door repeatedly till I feared it might get stuck. Based on my last interaction with Eoin, I was fully prepared to do this all night till he answered the door.
I was wearing several layers beneath my warmest coat, I brought a sandwich from the local deli, and next to me on the porch was a thermos of coffee (mixed with whiskey for warmth…and a bit of extra courage, seeing as I needed all I could get).
“Eoin!” I shouted as I continued to pound his door and ring his doorbell. “Eoin, I’m not leaving here till you let me talk to you. So you better open your door or I’ll shout it for all your neighbours to hear!”
I imagined Eoin inside cursing under his breath as he folded his pillow angrily over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. That was fine. I could shout loud enough to get past a few goose feathers.
“Last chance, Eoin!” I shouted again. “Ye better come let me in. I’m not leaving.”
A few more dogs down the street joined in, so now there was a chorus of barking in addition to my very annoying drum solo. A twinge of nervousness made my feet shift uncomfortably on Eoin’s welcome mat as several more lights switched on in once dark windows.
“Alright then,” I bellowed into the night like a crazy drunk on a city corner. “I’m just going to tell you what I need to tell you out here in the cold for everyone else to hear!”
I paused my knocking and eased up on the doorbell for a moment as I pressed my ear to the door and prayed for the sound of a creaking mattress or steps down the hallway, anything to indicate that Eoin had relented and was coming to let me inside so I didn’t have to air our dirty laundry in front of the entire neighbourhood. But there was no sound at all inside Eoin’s dark townhouse. If Noah hadn’t told me that he was home, I would have just assumed I was shouting at no one.
But he was there.
And I had a choice: should I give in to the fear of admitting my deepest, darkest secrets to not just Eoin, but to all of his neighbours as well and hop on my motorcycle and drive home? Or should I stand up? Should I get loud? Should I fight?
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing it didn’t shake so terribly, before exhaling. I stared up at the porch light above me.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “I can do this.”
After one last nervous inhale, I stared at the blank door in front of me and raised my voice loud enough that I knew there was no way that Eoin couldn’t hear me.
“Eoin, my greatest fear in the world is losing my family,” I shouted. “I am terrified of not having you and Noah and Michael and Ma. It keeps me up at night. It makes me toss and turn. And when I do manage to fall asleep it makes me bolt upright, covered in sweat, and panting from a nightmare where you all are gone.”
My heart pounded as the dogs barked and neighbours stuck their heads out of cracked doors, curious as to what in the hell this stranger was shouting into the once calm night. These were secrets that I wouldn’t even admit to myself; they were secrets hidden in the deepest, darkest, most remote corners of my soul. I didn’t let anyone see them.
Now I was laying them bare for all to hear.
My palms were sweaty, my cheeks red, and my heart seemed to thunder a dangerously inconsistent beat. This was fear and I was facing it.
“Eoin, when Jaime died I missed saying goodbye to him like the rest of you because I was with Sophie,” I shouted, even going to the extra measure of cupping my hands over my mouth. I could see my breath as I shouted in the cold, as if my ghosts were escaping the prison I created for them in my heart. Each one leaving was agony. I resisted the urge to cling to them, to shove them back inside, to lock the doors once more. Forever.
“I was running away with her,” I shouted despite my shortness of breath. “The only reason I knew about Jaime was because I called home from a pay phone to tell Ma I was leaving, that I was safe. I tried to rush back when she told me what happened, but that old piece of shite car of mine broke down. I tried to…I tried.”
I squeezed my eyes shut to try and block off the waves of emotions that swept over me. I had to keep going.
“After Jaime’s death I made a vow that I would always put my family first, that I would never let anything get between you and me ever again,” I shouted over the barking dogs down the street. “Because there is nothing I fear more than losing another one of you like I lost Jaime. It is the single thing I fear in this world.”
I sucked in a deep breath, my harsh panting loud in my ears.
“I’ve been running from my fear for so long,” I continued. “I’ve been using it as an excuse to hold onto my guilt, to make myself miserable, to push away happiness and joy and love.”
On Eoin’s porch I leaned back and craned my neck to spy down the street for any sign of red and blue flashing lights. Surely by now one of the neighbours had grumbled “This is enough” and reached for the telephone to report the madman bellowing into the night, causing quite a scene, and generally disturbing the peace. I certainly felt mad.
My eyes were wide, my heart rate pounding, my palms sweaty as I cupped my hands again over my mouth and shouted, “But I’ve finally found a love that I don’t want to run away from. I’ve finally found a love that makes me want to stand up to my greatest fears instead of cowering in the dark. I’ve finally found a—oh.”
I stepped back in surprise when the front door opened. Eoin blinked at me with bleary eyes in the dim light of the hallway. I shook my head in shock that he was there in front of me. Well, and that his fist wasn’t launching in the direction of my nose.
“Eoin, I—”
“Jaysus, get the fuck in here, alright?” Eoin interrupted, holding open the door just enough that I could slip past if I turned sideways and sucked in as much as possible.
“Hopefully you weren’t sleeping,” I said sheepishly as I did just that, avoiding Eoin’s eyes narrowed on me.
“The whole bleedin’ street was sleeping, Darren.”
I paused in the living room and fidgeted with my fingers in front of me, suddenly unsure of what to do next. I hadn’t expected to get this far. Jail? Sure. The emergency room? Perhaps. But inside Eoin’s townhouse again? No, not really.
“Tea?” Eoin asked, his slippers padding across the kitchen floor.
I turned around to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Tea?”
Tea was quite the turnaround from the bottles of whiskey and kegs of Irish red ale that littered the place the last time I was here. In fact, now that I realised it, there wasn’t a sign of alcohol anywhere. No takeout boxes littering the coffee table. No random bras flung here or there. No evidence at all of a spiralling man.
“Tea?” I repeated, still a little stunned and surprised.
“As in them dried bits of leaves in boiling water,” Eoin grumbled as he turned the kettle on.
I scratched at the back of my neck awkwardly. I fumbled o
ver my words like an idiot, not sure what to even say. “No, I know what tea—it’s just that, I—”
“I’m not leaving you,” Eoin interrupted. His eyes were not on mine as he said this. He was focused on taking two Lyons teabags out of the box at the kitchen counter.
I stared at him for a moment, not even sure that I had heard him correctly. He had said it so nonchalantly, so casually, so matter-of-factly, I almost couldn’t believe he’d really said it.
I took a hesitant step toward him, opposite the kitchen counter. “What did you say?”
Eoin sighed as he fidgeted with the little string attached to the teabag. “I’m not leaving ye, Darren,” he repeated, his words soft-spoken. “I’m not leaving you, alright?”
Eoin finally looked up at me. It wasn’t much, just the tiniest tilt of his chin upward so that he could see me past his long boyish eyelashes.
“Alright?” he pressed, not breaking eye contact.
I was frozen. My mind, my body, my heart: all frozen, paralysed, petrified even.
Eoin then stretched his arm out across the kitchen counter and squeezed my hand. “We’re brothers,” he said. “I’m not leaving you.”
The tea kettle began its dull boiling roar before it turned itself off automatically. Eoin didn’t let go of my hand and his intense gaze didn’t let go of my eyes. “Alright?”
I tried to fight back the mist that threatened to turn into tears as I managed a quick nod.
Eoin shook his head. “No,” his voice firm. “I need to hear you. Jaime never left me. He never left you. We never left him. And I’ll never leave you, Darren.”
Eoin’s fingers gripped my hand more tightly, as if to punctuate each and every word he spoke, as if to tattoo them onto the inner side of my wrist, as if only a brother’s touch could speak to a soul.
“I need to hear you.” I heard the slight quiver in Eoin’s voice.
With my eyes still locked on his, I whispered, “You’ll never leave me, Eoin.”
Eoin nodded. “And you’ll never leave me,” he said, gaze fierce before adding, “because we’re brothers.”
It was my turn to nod, though I only nodded just slightly for fear that I would jar a tear loose. “Because we’re brothers,” I repeated.
Eoin nodded once more, cleared his throat, and turned his attention back to the tea.
“Grand,” he said, voice deep and low despite the fact that I saw him swipe the back of his bear paw-like hand across his face when he thought I couldn’t see. “Grand like.”
I at least had the advantage of wiping my tears away without him noticing. Though perhaps that was why he turned away in the first place: to give me that opportunity.
Eoin sorted each of us a cup of tea with milk and we sat next to each other on the couch.
“I’m still pissed at you,” Eoin said first, glancing over at me with a fixed eyebrow. “And I reserve that right for as long as I deem appropriate.”
I raised my hands. “Fair enough.”
“I might still slug you.”
I raised my own eyebrows at him over the lip of my teacup.
“Fine,” Eoin grumbled, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Maybe no more slugging you.”
I chuckled softly and sipped my tea. We sat in silence for a long while.
“I didn’t understand what Kayleigh was saying when she told me about you and her,” Eoin finally said. “I didn’t understand the kind of love she was talking about. Love that changes you and makes you fearless. Love that’s worth fighting over, fighting for.” Eoin leaned forward to set his empty mug on the table. “And I definitely wouldn’t have understood what in the hell you were hollering out there tonight…”
“But…?” I prompted when Eoin was silent.
Eoin bit his lower lip and tapped his finger nervously against the side of his cup. I watched him curiously, studying his obvious discomfort. “But I might have met someone…” Eoin said slowly, glancing over at me out of the corner of his eyes.
I nodded, trying to be patient. “And…?”
Eoin sighed. “I think maybe I wanted to be in love so terribly that I just convinced myself it was love with Kayleigh.” Eoin paused for a moment, contemplative for perhaps the first time I’d ever seen in my life. “And I want someone to feel toward me the way Kayleigh obviously feels toward you,” he finally said.
His words made my heart rate quicken. I tried my best to keep my breath steady as I exhaled.
“I’m sorry all of this happened the way it did,” I said. “It’s certainly not how I would have planned it.”
Eoin laughed and shook his head. “It happened just the way it was supposed to happen, Daz.”
Eoin using my childhood nickname was the greatest relief I’d felt in years. It was what finally gave me peace that everything was going to be alright, we were going to be alright. I sagged into the cushions of his couch and briefly closed my eyes.
When I opened them I dared to reach over and squeeze my brother’s shoulder. “So tell me about this ‘someone’,” I said. “Bra size, favourite position, any interesting tattoos. You know, the usual.”
To my surprise (and perhaps Eoin’s himself), he didn’t hit me. Instead he just smiled. “That’s a story for another time,” he said with a wry wink. “You’ve got somewhere to be.”
I raised a curious eyebrow. “I do?”
Eoin reached over and took my cup of tea from me despite the fact that there was still some left. “You do,” he said, placing it on the coffee table and nodding toward his front door down the hall.
“Um, where?” I asked, glancing between him and the door I was suddenly getting kicked out of.
Eoin grinned. “You’ve got to go get your girl.”
Kayleigh
I sat in my car for almost twenty minutes before finally working up the nerve to open the door. It was the first day of my apprenticeship, and to say that I was apprehensive would be an understatement. As I walked along the sidewalk toward the mechanic’s shop already bustling with activity, my palms were coated in sweat despite the morning chill.
From just down the road I could see men in blue coveralls working quickly and confidently on engines, changing out tyres skilfully, and using pieces of equipment I’d never even seen before, let alone knew how to use myself. I was throwing myself into waters well past my depth and my heart was racing.
I was so nervous that I was almost at the garage doors before realising that I’d forgotten my tool belt along with all my tools, naturally, on the passenger side seat. Cursing my scattered brain, I hurried back to my car and leaned inside to grab the tool belt Darren got me for Christmas. As I tightened it around my hips, my fingers grazed the inscription: Kayleigh Scott: Mechanic.
I didn’t have a degree in car engineering. I didn’t have formal training of any kind whatsoever. I couldn’t even properly name every component hidden in grease and oil beneath the hood of a car.
But Darren believed in me.
And that was enough.
With a renewed sense of determination despite the considerable amount of palm sweat, I strode down the sidewalk toward the mechanic’s shop. I kept my chin high, because Darren gave me this tool belt. I kept my back straight, because Darren saw my potential. And I kept my chest forward, because it was my feckin’ name on that belt. Mine.
Loud music played over a stained and dusty boombox player much like the one in Darren’s shop as I stepped inside the garage doors. A big man with a backwards baseball cap emerged from under the hood of a brand-new car. He nodded toward me in acknowledgement.
“Dropping off a car, little lady?”
I shook my head as I tapped my hips and the tool belt draped over them. “I’m the new apprentice,” I said over the blaring music. “I’m looking for Eddie.”
The big man stood to his full height and twisted around his baseball cap as he assessed me from head to toe. He switched the toothpick between his lips from the left side to the right side as I tried my best not to squir
m beneath the pressure of his doubtful gaze. I kept my mouth in a stern line, my eyes drilled on him.
Finally the big man thumbed over his shoulder and said, “Eddie’s out in the alleyway having his morning smoke. Might want to wait till he’s done to talk to him though.”
“I’ll take my chances, thanks,” I said before striding as confidently as I could past the big man and the new shiny black car and the array of tools I didn’t know from one another.
As I walked along the line of cars in for repair, drawing the curious eyes of each mechanic I passed, I again ran my finger along my name etched into the smooth, warm leather of my tool belt.
Kayleigh Scott: Mechanic. Kayleigh Scott: Mechanic. Kayleigh Scott: Mechanic.
Maybe if my fingers remembered the words, my heart would too.
My hand hesitated just for a moment at the door to the back alleyway. Just a moment.
I stepped out into the alleyway and into a cloud of cigarette smoke I tried not to choke on.
“Someone can help you with your car up front, missy. I’m on break,” an old man in grease-covered coveralls two sizes too big for him barked irritably between long drags of a cigarette. He then mumbled to himself as if the curtain of smoke somehow blocked the noise as well. “Can’t have five feckin’ minutes to myself in this bleedin’ dump.”
With one last push of confidence, I extended my hand into what felt like the gnashing teeth of a junkyard dog on a too-long chain. “Eddie, hi, I’m Kayleigh Scott,” I said, trying to win over the cranky old man with a charming smile. “I’m your new apprentice mechanic.”
Eddie’s eyes darted over to me, giving me a once-over. He shook his head as he reached into his breast pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “No you ain’t.”
I wasn’t expecting balloons and a cake on my first day of work…but I also wasn’t expecting this kind of response either.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, fingers instinctively falling to my tool belt.
Stay strong, I heard Darren’s voice in my head. Fight for what you want.
