by Lee Wardlow
“Ro, are you going to take the bar still?” Mom asked me.
I really didn’t know what I was going to do. My life changed with the prick of a needle in my arm. Suddenly I was lost. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my future. What did I want in life? “Right now, I think I’ll help out on the farm. I think I need to find myself Mom.”
She nodded but she didn’t say anything else. The ride to the farm was forty-five minutes. Most of that time, no one spoke except for the occasional small talk. I was relieved when she dropped me and my grandfather at the farm and left.
Aine came out onto the porch with Gracie in her arms. I contemplated her, really took a look at her belly swollen with hers and Fionn’s second child. She was due in about six weeks. This pregnancy was so much easier than her first. Her morning sickness not as bad but she was still uncomfortable. This baby was big too.
I reached my hands out to take Gracie and the kid came right to me. Her soft blonde curls just like Fionn. I ran my hand over her hair and smiled. Her eyes like ours, a pale hazel-green. Her skin lighter than us but not fair like her mother, somewhere in between. I glanced down at Aine. She was smiling at me. “Glad to see you made it,” she teased me.
I chuckled. Gramps, he didn’t find it so funny. He snorted as he went inside, passing by us. I could see I wouldn’t get special treatment here. Mom was treating me like I might break. Dad was ignoring me. Here, I would get my ass kicked. “Me too,” I replied in a conspiratorial whisper.
Then Gracie kissed my cheek. “I gad you bedder Ro,” she said to me.
I rubbed her belly gently. God, I loved this kid. “What did you tell her?” I asked Aine looking from my niece to my sister-in-law.
“That you were in the hospital with a boo-boo that they were fixing.” So simple in Gracie’s mind. Not so simple in the real world. I could have left all this, not seen her or the twins grow up. Sophia’s girls too. The five little girls who captured all of our hearts. I would have missed it all. Especially, the new baby coming soon.
I nodded. Then, I inhaled. Gracie smelled sweet like lavender baby lotion. Her skin was soft and pretty. She was wearing knit leggings on her lower half in bright pink. Her upper half was covered in a soft white top with a sparkling rainbow on it. Gracie’s nose was covered in freckles. I squeezed her a little bit. This was what was important in life, I knew. My nieces. My cousins’ girls. I wanted to be here for them but I had almost blew it.
“I love you Gracie Lou,” I told her.
“I wuv you Ro.” Her love was unconditional. She didn’t judge me. She had no preconceived ideas about me because she didn’t know what I had done in my life that made me an asshole. She was innocent and I was always just fun loving Uncle Ronan.
Aine laid her hand across my arm. “I’ll never repeat this,” she told me. I focused my gaze in her direction confused by what she was about to say. “I love you too.”
I laughed. “Don’t let Fionn hear you say that.”
“I heard.” My brother didn’t show emotion well except where his daughter and wife were concerned. He was a quiet man. He had walls that he built to protect himself from everyone including me but even he had told me that he loved me when he thought I couldn’t hear him.
I turned and looked at him. “Hey, could I talk to you Fionn?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied. Easy, loving Fionn. I owed him so much.
I handed Grace back to Aine and stepped down the porch steps; standing beside my brother. Glancing over my shoulder, I cast a brief look at the old farmhouse. My father grew up here with his brother. My grandfather, his father and his father before him. Now Fionn with Aine and their children. My brother was suited for this life. I had torn him down for his choices.
I began to watch him several years back. To see what he saw. To see how successful, he was at farming and why. I was proud of the man that he was. I needed to tell him that among other things. “Let’s go to the barn,” I suggested.
He held out his hand as if to say, lead the way so I walked ahead of Fionn. I heard his boots on the gravel drive as we crossed to the barn. The slamming of the screen door let me know that Aine went inside with Grace. We walked through the barn door and sat on bales of hay in the walkway. Not speaking at first because Fionn waited on me. I was trying to find the words. “What did you want with me Ronan?” Fionn was trying to put me at ease.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m so proud of you.” He looked surprised. “I’ve been an ass to you our whole lives, I know that. Probably because I was jealous.” I rubbed my hand across my face.
“Did it hurt to say that?” He teased me.
If you knew Fionn and his personality you would know how funny that comment was. I burst out laughing. “No, it wasn’t painful at all. I love you Fionn. I really do. I should say that more often.” He seemed surprised. “And I want you to teach me Fionn,” I said.
“Teach you what?” He was puzzled by that statement that I was about to explain.
I swallowed. “How to be a good man,” I replied. “I’ve gotten lost along the way. I’ve forgotten everything Dad taught us and let everyone down. I need a little time to finish recuperating. The doc said two weeks. Maybe I can help around the house during that time but then I want to come outside and help you.”
He laid his hand on my back. “You haven’t forgotten Ronan,” Fionn replied. “It’s still inside you. You’ve just gotten lost.”
Dad took this personally. He was kicking his own ass for what happened to me. That was the first step I needed to take which was to stand up to him and let him know that I made the decision to stick that needle in my arm. It was my own fault not his. “I need to face Dad.”
“Yeah, you do.”
I glanced at him and Fionn looked at me. “He’s blaming himself when it was my choice.”
“It was. I can’t say I understand why.”
“Blow off steam. To get high with my friends. I smoke weed on a regular basis, Fionn. I use coke here and there. Pills,” I said. I didn’t need to explain anymore. He got it. “Heroin was supposed to be a one-time thing.”
Fionn leaned forward on his knees. “It’s never a one-time thing Ronan.”
“It almost was for me,” I replied teasing him.
He scowled at me. “You know that isn’t funny.”
He sat back and leaned against the stall. “Can you understand how we felt seeing you with the breathing tube down your throat. Your chest covered in wires. Liam told Jamie that they used the paddles on you twice to shock your heart into starting again. You were dead Ronan.” Fionn scrubbed his face with his hands.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “Did anyone tell Mom and Dad this?”
Fionn glanced at me. “I don’t know,” he replied.
“Can I borrow the car?” I asked him.
“You going over to see Dad?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to confront him at Sunday dinner tomorrow. It needs to happen before then.”
“Sure,” Fionn reached into his pocket and handed me the keys to the farm truck. I took them and looked at the palm of my hand.
“My first step at learning to become a humble, better man?” I asked turning the keys over and over.
“You could say that.”
He rose. My brother was a big bad ass with a soft heart. He could have gone to college on a full scholarship but chose the farm life. Scouts were looking at him from the NFL before he even hit college because of his size and speed. I rose and stood beside him.
“You remember when you called me the golden boy but it was you who had everything waiting for you to just grab it and hold on. College, a full ride and possibly the NFL. You just didn’t want it.”
He shook his head. “I have everything I want right here.”
I get it. Grace was precious. I grabbed Fionn in a hug and held him tight. He slapped my back a couple of times. “Get the hell out of here,” he told me uncomfortable with the mushy stuff.
Chapter 4
&n
bsp; Feeling nervous about this was probably a good thing. Dad’s car was in the drive. He was home early. Here, I was thinking maybe I could talk to Mom for a few minutes before he arrived home from work. I got out of the old farm truck. Rust on the door, a few holes in the floorboards but it served its purpose still. We transported food for the animals from the feed store to the farm in it. It wasn’t pretty but it was functional. It ran like a dream. The motor smooth as silk.
Mom met me at the door. “Didn’t I just drop you off at the farm?” She asked. She slapped a towel over her shoulder glancing up at me with concern.
“You did. I wanted to talk to Dad.”
“He’s in the kitchen. We were about to sit down to dinner.”
I put my arm around my mother’s shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I love you Mom.”
She patted my hand. “I love you too Ronan.”
We went into the kitchen together. Someplace familiar and comfortable. I don’t think they changed it in all the years that we lived here. I scooted onto the stool next to my dad. Mom went to the kitchen doorway. She was going to leave us alone. “Don’t go,” I told her.
Dad put his fork down. He crossed his arms on the island in front of him and was silent. I don’t know what is harder the silent father that I was staring at or the angry father that I faced on more than one occasion as a young boy.
“I need to say something to you,” I could hear my voice breaking. My dad’s dark eyes turned to me and I could see the heartbreak that I caused in him. “I am the man who is responsible for what happened to me. Not you. Me. You taught me well how to be a man.” A tear rolled down my cheek. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. “I was the man who chose to put that needle in my arm. I know that I have disappointed you. I let you down so I came here tonight to ask you to forgive me and let me show you that I can be a better man.”
My dad dropped his head. I could see that he was crying himself. “I screwed up somewhere Ronan or you wouldn’t have done that.”
I turned to him and laid my hand on his arm. “Dad, look at me.” He turned his head to me after wiping at his face. “You didn’t. I’m asking you to forgive me. Please. This isn’t your fault.”
His hand went around my neck and pulled me to him until we were forehead to forehead. I sobbed against my father like I hadn’t since I was probably a little boy. “There’s nothing to forgive Ronan. I was terrified we were going to lose you.”
“I heard you,” I told him.
“What?” My dad’s deep voice was husky.
“Dad, I heard you. You promised me you would do anything to help me through this if I wouldn’t die. You couldn’t bear to lose a son, you told me. You were begging me to not die. I heard you at the hospital when I was in the coma. Then you didn’t come back.”
He grabbed me and pulled me into his arms and held me tight. “I couldn’t see you in the hospital after that first night Ronan. I couldn’t see what you did to yourself knowing we were so close to losing you.”
“It’s okay Dad.” I wasn’t blaming him for not returning to the hospital. I just wanted him to know that I heard him.
Then we felt Mom trying to squeeze her way in. Dad wrapped her between us and she kissed us both. “This can’t happen again Ronan.”
“It won’t.”
“No weed, no coke, no heroin,” she said.
“Shawn suggested a therapy group. He said they are really helpful. I guess like AA meetings,” I explained.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
I wasn’t. I controlled my coke habit. I could give it up without any trouble. I was convinced of that. The heroin was a fluke. I wouldn’t have done it again. Would I? My head was spinning with so many thoughts I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “I don’t consider myself as having a drug problem.”
My mom leaned into my dad and stared at me until I looked away. “Ronan, how many times a week do you smoke weed?” I didn’t want to admit it to her. “I asked you a question Ronan,” she said.
“Stevie,” Dad said her name warning her to back off of me.
“No Declan. Our son almost died. We are not going to coddle him because you are afraid. You should be afraid of losing him to another overdose.”
My head shot around. “I smoked weed several nights a week. It calms me.” I looked down unable to meet the intensity of her eyes.
“Coke?” She asked.
“Sometimes I could go for months at a time without it,” I declared. The pills were another matter. She didn’t ask, I didn’t tell her.
She snorted. That tap-dancing around the truth answer wasn’t what she wanted from me. “How often Ronan?”
“Every other month or so one of us would pick up coke.”
She looked at my dad. “Do you know where to purchase coke Declan?”
He sighed. “I can’t say that I do.”
“Me neither.” She touched my chin forcing me to look at her. “How do you know Ronan?” She asked.
“It’s easier to find near campus,” I explained.
She nodded in understanding. “Who bought the heroin?”
“Not me,” I said my voice rising several octaves.
“But you were the dumbass that took it first, nearly dying. Ronan, your friends dumped you in front of the hospital. I guess we should count our blessings that they did that much for you. Are they really your true friends?”
“No, not such good friends.” I was questioning that one myself. Who just dumps you and leaves you? They hadn’t even checked on me since I was in the hospital. The assholes.
“Ronan, when Grampa told you that you were like my dad he was not kidding. He had to lay down the alcohol or Grams would have left him.”
My eyes shot up to my mother’s face. “Really?”
“Ask Gramps when you go back home.”
I nodded. Unsure of what he could tell me that would convince me that I was an actual addict. I felt that I could walk away from it any time I wanted. The weed. The coke. I swallowed. The pills. Definitely the heroin. I never wanted that shit again.
“I’m not going to coddle you or hide from you Ronan. I expect you to toe the line. You might be an adult but you’re my son. I sat with you every day that you were in that hospital and I waited forty-eight hours for them to downgrade your status from critical. Your kidneys are functioning again on their own and aren’t damaged thank god but do you know how lucky you are? You could have lived on dialysis for the rest of your life.
“Or ended up like the people who died in those twenty-four hours who were taking the shit that you willingly shot into your arm. A statistic right along with them.”
Mom made her point. “I get it,” I told her hanging my head.
“I don’t think you do Ronan. I don’t care if you take the bar. I don’t care if you work on the farm for the rest of your life with your brother but you will not do drugs again or I will not be there the next time. Do you get it now?”
“I understand?”
She turned then and walked out of the kitchen. I glanced over at my father. “She’s mad at me.”
“She is.”
“I disappointed you and pissed her off. You never said you forgive me.”
“I don’t feel that I need to say I forgive you Ronan. I just want you to be around to grow old, find a wife and give me more grandchildren. Most importantly, find a way to be happy with yourself.”
I huffed. I wasn’t sure how that would go down. I hadn’t treated women very well in my lifetime. I needed to learn a lot of things. Apparently the hard way.
**
I left Mom and Dad’s house and returned to the farm in the old truck. I parked in the drive and saw my grandfather sitting on the swing. He raised up a little and shook his head when I climbed down from the beat-up old piece of junk. I ran up the steps to the front porch.
“Do you know how many conversations have taken place right here?” He asked me when I joined him on the swing.
I shook my head no.
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“A lot,” he replied. “Some not so pleasant like when your Grams told me she was going to marry Joey. My heart hadn’t healed yet. I knew she was rushing into it so she wouldn’t change her mind and decide she really wanted to be with me.”
I had a hard time hearing his pain in that statement. I wasn’t sure why he brought it up. I leaned back. Our shoulders touching. We were built very similarly. In high school, Ciaran was the quarterback, Fionn was the tight end and I was the wide receiver. Ciaran is six four, I am six two and Fionn six six. All of us big men like our father and grandfather. Our uncle was a leaner version of us.
We were a triplet, triple threat. Teams hated playing our high school because we were so in tune with each other both on and off the football field but they missed this about me.
Ciaran and I were identical except for the two-inch height difference. We were always trying to find our dissimilarities that would give us each our own identities. Fionn, at least looked more like Mom with her silver blonde curls and bigger frame. He wasn’t as often compared to us.
I glanced at my hands then looked at my grandfather’s hands. They were exactly alike down to the breadth and width of our hands. The long fingers. He could have been a wide receiver too. “What did you play in high school?” I asked him.
He chuckled. “I was slow so I was a defensive lineman. Your grandad Joey always said if I had any speed at all I could have been a tight end or a wide receiver. The hands.” He held his up by mine. Then he grasped mine in his and squeezed it tight. “Basketball was more my game because of my height and ability to dunk a ball. Your father was a hell of a tight end. I think that is why he was so adamant that Fionn go to college when everyone was clamoring for him.”
“He was amazing,” I said with all the awe I felt at watching my brother play. There was probably some jealousy too.
“He was.” He released my hand and put his arm around me. “So you want to explain why you did such a dumbass thing as heroin?” My grandfather asked. “It wasn’t enough to do speed, pot and coke?”
“I think you hit the nail on the head. If I had a motorcycle I would ride as fast as I could. When we went to the mountains four years ago, me, Ciaran, Liam, Seth and Jamie…”
