Wandering in Exile

by Peter Murphy

  “Well,” Jacinta looked for safer topics to talk about. “I hope you’re all having a nice visit.”

  “We are.” Deirdre started smiling again. “It so nice to be back—for the kids especially. And I got to see my sister. We have been missing each other for years.”

  Deirdre looked so beautiful when she smiled. Hopefully Danny could still see that. Jacinta had warned him. She had told him that he would never find anyone as good as Deirdre ever again, but she wasn’t sure he’d heard.

  “Well I’m glad. I know things haven’t been great recently.”

  “No. They haven’t. But it’s okay now. Danny and I, and Grainne and Martin, have all talked and we are all going to try to make things better. Haven’t we, sweetie?”

  Grainne nodded but never looked up from her spoon.

  “Well, I know that you’ll all do fine.” Jacinta raised an eyebrow to see if Deirdre had anything else to say about it.

  She didn’t and a silence settled for a while.

  “Will you and Jerry be okay?”

  “Oh we’ll be just fine, Deirdre. Don’t you or Danny be worrying about us. I’ll take good care of him until you all come back the next time. Things weren’t always rosy between us but, at this stage of our lives, we’re happy to be the ones looking out for each other.”

  “Is Granddad Jerry going to die?”

  Jacinta had almost forgotten Grainne was there. “Not at all, pet. He’s going to live to see you all grown up. Who knows, he might even dance at your wedding.”

  “Ew. I’m never getting married.”

  “Ah now, little girls have been saying that since time began.”

  “I mean it. Getting married just makes people unhappy.”

  “It does, but it also makes people very happy too.”

  “Are you happy, Granny?”

  “I am, pet. Only I had to grow up before I came to realize that.”

  Deirdre waited until Grainne was finished and took her to the toilets. Jacinta had seen the little tears in the corners of her eyes. Jacinta hadn’t meant to upset her; she just didn’t want her giving up too soon. Not that she’d ever blame her. And she would never shun her. Deirdre and the children would always be a part of her and Jerry, no matter what happened.

  She had done all that she could but there was no getting through to Danny. She had tried, in whispers so as not to disturb Jerry. She told him he had to stop his drinking but he just smiled and nodded his head, like he had heard it all far too often. It wasn’t all his fault, though, not after the way things were when he was little. Only he hadn’t learned how to move past them. In a way he was the same little boy that came to see her the day he was confirmed. Only then, it was the nuns closing like a veil between them. Now he was doing it himself. He was closing himself off from everyone who loved him. As his mother, she was going to have to do something about it.

  “Are we all set then?” She forced herself to smile when Deirdre and Grainne came back.

  *

  “I don’t mean to upset you; it’s just that I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

  Her sister meant well but she didn’t understand; her life with Johnny was so much different. They got to go around the world and never had to settle down.

  “I know you mean well, and you’re probably right, but I just can’t do it right now. The kids are too young.”

  “I don’t think there’s ever a good time to be breaking up a family,” her mother added as she stirred her cup, over and over, in slow circular motions.

  Deirdre sat between them, at the kitchen table where they once shared everything. Her father and Johnny had taken Danny and the kids for a drive. Johnny wanted to visit the Powerscourt waterfall.

  “But there’s no point in you being miserable, Dee.” Her sister was always on Deirdre’s side, even when Deirdre wasn’t. “The kids won’t be thankful, you’ll see.”

  “I’d give him one more chance, if I were you.” Her mother always wanted to see a bit of good in every one.

  “Mam! How many chances does she have to give him? Danny has a problem and he won’t deal with it until he has lost everything.”

  Deirdre knew she was right; she’d heard the same thing at Al-Anon meetings, and from Eduardo, only his opinion might be a little bit biased.

  “Well, I think she should give him one more. Have you told him this is his last chance?”

  “Of course she has. She’s been telling him that for the last few years, only he doesn’t seem to be able to get it.”

  Deirdre had. When they got back together, they had talked but she knew he was just going along with her. He was smirking a lot, even as he was agreeing to everything she said.

  “Grainne,” her mother pleaded, “we don’t all get it right from the start. You and Johnny were very lucky.”

  They were. Johnny was a good husband and a great father, when he wasn’t working. Her sister used to tell her that, before their kids came along, she used to get lonely when he became absorbed in a painting.

  “God knows. There were lots of times when I nearly gave up on your father, but marriage is about the good and the bad.”

  That’s what Deirdre often told herself, when she was alone in her bed, crying herself to sleep.

  “Ah but, Mam, we all know you’re a saint for having to put up with him.”

  They all laughed at that.

  “Poor Daddy, he hasn’t been the same since women got the vote.”

  “Now, now. Leave your poor father alone. He’s doing his best.”

  “He is?”

  “He is. It wasn’t easy for him having the two of you as daughters.”

  “Us? He should be proud of us.”

  “He is. Now.”

  “Well I still think that Deirdre and the kids would be better off doing what has to happen before any more harm is done.”

  Her sister was right, but Deirdre couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. Not until she was satisfied that she had given him every chance. After that; she would do whatever had to be done.

  *

  Deirdre had been putting off meeting up with him; it wasn’t the right time.

  She’d missed him and the reaffirmation she felt just being near him. He had called a few times but she had always said she was too busy. It wasn’t a total lie; she was, and she needed time to let everything settle again.

  She was, when she was honest with herself, becoming paralyzed. She could function from one day to the next, but she couldn’t bring herself to think about the future. Eduardo seemed to sense that and didn’t push her. He just wanted her to know that he was always there at the other end of the phone if she needed to talk or anything.

  She often thought about phoning him, especially at night while Danny sat downstairs until she was asleep. Their marriage had become little more than a functional agreement. They did what they had to do together as parents. For the most part, they were civil to each other for the kids’ sake, but they weren’t really a couple anymore.

  Danny had been acting out a little too. Drinking more, almost challenging her to say something.

  She didn’t. She overlooked it and asked if there was any news on his father. All they had were functional conversations, nothing more.

  She missed caring about him but she had learned something else at Al-Anon. They told her that she had to learn to detach. It was confusing. Where was the line between detachment and indifference? She couldn’t find it any more.

  Danny had probably erased that, too, with all of his encroachments. They might have been cries for help but she had nothing left to give him. But it still wasn’t the right time to do anything. The kids were still too young and the news of Jerry wasn’t good. It just wasn’t the right time.

  Eduardo called again, at the end of October, to say that he noticed Leaside was playing in Markham the same weekend his son was playing. Perhaps they could meet for hotdogs?

  She would have made some excuse but, the previous Sunday morning, Danny had crossed the wr
ong line. Martin and Grainne had been having a tiff and were getting a bit loud. Deirdre was determined to stay out of it and just read the newspaper, absentmindedly chiding them every once in a while.

  **

  “You’ll wake your father!” she reminded them again, but it was just a token effort. He had woken her when he came to bed.

  So Martin and Grainne argued some more and she went on reading the paper, trying not to smile as she enjoyed a moment of restitution. Until Grainne took it too far. “Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Martin won’t let me watch my shows.” She even ran to the foot of the stairs, too, to make sure he heard.

  Deirdre sprang up but it was too late; Danny was already pounding down the stairs.

  “Would it be too much to ask that one morning—just one fucking morning—I get a bit of peace and quiet?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy, but Martin made me cry.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too and he tried to pull my hair.”

  Deirdre reacted instinctively. “Martin, is that what really happened?”

  “No, Mum. She just won’t let me watch my show—and hers is stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid. It’s for girls.”

  “Girls are stupid.”

  As Deirdre watched, she knew what was going to happen next. Grainne started slowly, deliberately, so that everyone but her father could tell: she was going to throw her brother in front of the bus, again. She pouted her lips and scrunched up her face and began to tremble, voluntary at first until it all bubbled up from inside and poured out through her eyes.

  Deirdre never expected what happened next. Danny grabbed his son and hauled him up level to his face. “Can’t you see that you made your little sister cry? What kind of a cruel-hearted bastard are you going to grow into?”

  “Danny!”

  “Danny nothing. I’m sick and tired of you not keeping this little gurrier on a leash.”

  It was Martin’s turn to cry, though he tried to hold it in.

  “Not so fucking tough, now, eh, Gretzky? If I ever catch you making your sister cry again—I’ll fuckin’ . . .”

  Deirdre reached forward toward Martin, glaring at Danny as she came. She wanted him to know that, in that moment, she despised him.

  He seemed to recoil and lowered Martin. “I’m sorry.”

  He might have said more but Deirdre stood face to face with him. She didn’t say anything. She just wanted him to know.

  He withered a little and turned to go.

  “Don’t you ever speak like that again in this house. Do I make myself quite clear?”

  Even the kids stopped and looked at her. She had never, ever, spoken to anyone like that before, not even the night Anto followed her home. But then she was only afraid for herself.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled and slunk off toward the basement.

  “Right, you two.” The kids were still standing in shock. “Get upstairs and get dressed. We are going out for brunch.”

  It worked. They both shot off, almost leaving what just happened behind.

  She took them to the Sunnybrook, right across the road from McDonald’s. She wanted them all to have bacon and eggs and sausages, with warm toast and jam, but Grainne wanted waffles and Martin wanted a burger, so Deirdre just had coffee and watched them.

  She had been very stupid—and careless. She could have headed it off. It could all have been avoided if she had just stopped to think. She had put her son in danger so she could make her point. Yes, Danny was supposed to get up and spend some time with the kids, but she knew better. She had made a huge mistake and would never let it happen again.

  ***

  “Can all girls cry whenever they want to?”

  Deirdre should have said no but she didn’t feel like it. When she was alone with Martin, she almost felt free. She was taking him to the tournament while Grainne stayed with a neighbor. She hadn’t asked what Danny was doing. It didn’t matter; she had said yes to Eduardo.

  “Yes, Martin. I do believe they can.”

  “Can you?”

  “Probably, only I don’t like crying.”

  “I wasn’t crying, you know? When Dad was being all . . .”

  “I know, sweetie.”

  “Do girls cry because that’s the only way they get their way?”

  “Not all girls, sweetie.”

  “It’s still not fair. Boys always get blamed whenever stupid girls cry.”

  *

  She had dropped him off at the door along with his hockey bag and had gone to park when Eduardo arrived. He was so happy to see her and parked right beside her even though he still had his son’s bag and they were a long way from the door.

  “Dee-dree.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks, right between her hat and scarf. “And you are perfectly dressed for spending the day in a rink.”

  He wore a leather bomber jacket and blue jeans. It was a good thing she had brought something to sit on. He hauled the heavy bag from the back of his van, so like Deirdre’s only newer. “I swear to you,” he laughed as he slung it over one shoulder, “next year—swimming.”

  “Oh, Eduardo. That’s so un-Canadian of you.”

  “Well, I admit it then.” They were walking briskly but he wasn’t getting short of breath. “Besides, I was very good at swimming.”

  She couldn’t help it and briefly imagined him in a Speedo, rising up from the warm surf as the sun set on the Costa De Caprica. She was still thinking about it as she held the door for him and watched him walk in. He had been back to Portugal during the summer. His skin was a little darker and he smelled like a shower—a long hot shower.

  She watched him check in with his team and hand the bag over to his son. The coaches took it from there and would keep the kids ‘focused’ for the next few hours.

  “So how was your trip to Dublin?”

  “Nice. The weather wasn’t great but I got to see my family again. That’s always nice.”

  “And your parents came to visit too. Yes?”

  “Yes.” It had been a bad idea, seeing them so soon, but her mother told her that her father was insistent. He wanted to be there for Danny while Jerry was going through what he was going through.

  “And did they enjoy themselves?”

  “They became total Canadians for a few weeks. My mother insisted on barbequing every evening and my father wore shorts and a t-shirt the whole time. Such Euro-trash, eh?”

  “Oh, you don’t mean that. I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as all that. Besides, my family always barbequed sardinhas. The Fire Brigade is always calling around. It was very embarrassing at first but now my mother makes them stay and eat with us.”

  His smile always made her tingle deep inside.

  **

  But it was worse than she let on. Danny and her father went drinking every evening and when she complained, her father sided with Danny. “You’re getting a bit shrill there, Dee. Relax and let a man enjoy his holidays.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes but didn’t comment, though Deirdre overheard them at night, arguing softly as they went to bed. “The last thing that boy needs right now is a boozing buddy.”

  “Let it go, Anne. I’m only trying to help him keep his mind off things.”

  “Well I think he should be minding things.”

  “You don’t really mean that. You know as well as I do that his father will be dead before the year is out.”

  But the night before they left, her mother whispered to her in the kitchen. “Don’t worry, pet. If you ever divorce Danny—I’ll understand, because the minute I get off the plane, I’m divorcing your father!”

  ***

  And for some reason, she shared all of that with Eduardo, over hotdogs and rink-cold hot chocolate. She was testing him. She wanted to see if he was ready. Would they take that great leap together and land in each other’s arms? Or would they fall into a jumble of tangled and broken emotions?

  She had to risk it, but she needed some sign from him that she wasn’t stepping
out into an abyss.

  It almost seemed like he knew. He sat and listened with his chin in his hand, his long slender finger resting against his lips. She couldn’t tell if he was smiling but his eyes were sparkling.

  “And will she leave him?”

  *

  The question hung in the car, all the way home. Leaside had lost in the finals and Martin was quiet but not despondent. Martin didn’t get like that. Instead, he replayed every play while thinking of how much better he would do it the next time.

  Both of them were.

  The house was dark, the only one in the lit-up street. And, as Deirdre struggled to find the lock, the telephone rang.

  “It’s Gina. Danny’s aunt. I’m afraid I have some very bad news.”

  19

  1995

  Jeremiah Boyle was laid to rest beside his parents on a bitter afternoon in November. The wind whipped down through the gap in Glenasmole and tore at the mourners. The rain pelted them, too, so Fr. Dolan had hurried everything along. Only Danny had made the trip and stood, swaying slightly, as his mother greeted everyone who came. “You’ll come back to the house to send Jerry off in style?” Those that accepted nodded in quiet deference, dripping rain from their hats and umbrellas as they did.

  When they got home, Jacinta sat beside the fireplace sipping whiskey to ward off the chill. Gina and Anne Fallon organized the kitchen and served sandwiches and tea for those that wanted it. Danny was no help. He was even worse than his father—at his father’s funeral.

  Jacinta had liked Bart. He had danced with her at her wedding. He was nice to her and told her not to pay Nora too much mind. “She’s not used to having other women around her, but don’t worry, she always does the right thing in the end.”