Breakaway

by Deirdre Martin

  “You better watch yourself,” her mother said. Erin knew she wasn’t joking.

  At precisely four p.m. the doorbell rang. Erin hadn’t had the least bit of nerves all day, but now that the moment was actually here, her heart did what it wanted, racing in her chest.

  She walked downstairs to open the front door. There was Rory, looking dead handsome as always, and his gran, her hair looking freshly set, the short gray waves frozen into place.

  “Hello, love.” Rory’s gran gave her a hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Gran,” Erin said.

  “I’ll bet you are,” she replied mischievously.

  “Hi,” said Rory, discreetly kissing Erin as he closed the door behind them. “What’s the temperature?”

  “Cool, but I think we can achieve a thaw if all goes well.”

  Rory held out a box of Cadbury chocolate. “Mixed assortment. She likes these, right?”

  “Loves them,” Erin concurred. “You’re halfway home already.”

  Gran had toddled off to inspect the B and B dining room.

  “Very nice,” she commented approvingly “Not too posh.” She turned to Erin. “Looks like your parents did a good job here.”

  “Gran,” Rory said in a low voice. “We’re here for tea, not to go snooping around the B and B.”

  “The family flat is upstairs,” said Erin. “Shall we?”

  Rory paused at the steps. “Gran, are these too steep for you?”

  His grandmother looked at him disdainfully. “My old legs work fine.”

  “All right. Up you go, then.”

  “Don’t look so nervous,” Rory whispered to Erin as they slowly followed his gran up the stairs.

  “Do I?”

  “You know you do. The color’s draining from your gorgeous face. It’ll go fine.”

  “I know,” replied Erin, hoping Rory’s saying so would make it so.

  Erin hadn’t had unrealistic expectations. She hadn’t expected her parents, her mother especially, to embrace Rory with open arms. But she hadn’t realized just how chilly the reception would be. Her mother barely thanked Rory for the choccies. Thank God he’d had the foresight to bring his gran along.

  Formalities over, the five of them crowded round the table to talk over tea and cakes. Erin’s parents and Rory’s gran had a brief discussion about how deadly boring Father Bill’s sermons had been of late.

  “So, Rory Brady,” her mother finally said. Full name. Not good. “Will you be leaving town soon?”

  “End of summer,” Rory said politely, taking a sip of tea. “I’ve got training camp.”

  “In New York. Yes. I remember.” She turned to her husband. “You remember that, don’t you? How Erin was going to join him over there when he was in training camp?”

  “Don’t be doing this,” Erin warned. “I’m not joking, you.”

  “Doing what? Exchanging memories?”

  Rory’s grandmother gave her mother a frosty glare. “Don’t be a mixer.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do, which makes you a liar as well. You’re not being very Christian, Bridget, if I might say so.”

  “Crap,” Rory said under his breath. “C’mon now, let’s not be slinging barbs. Especially today.”

  Erin’s mother glared at him imperiously. “And what’s today?”

  Rory looked at Erin, whose hand was shaking as she pulled her engagement ring from her pocket and slipped it onto her finger. Nervous as she was, there was no stopping her beaming. “Rory’s asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes.”

  Rory put his arm around Erin. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  Rory’s gran clasped her hands together excitedly. “Now, this is lovely news! Lovely. True love always finds a way, eh?”

  There was no response from Erin’s mother, but her father got up and kissed her.

  “Congratulations, love.” He shook Rory’s hand. “Congrats.”

  “Thanks,” he said, looking grateful.

  Erin’s dad returned to his seat.

  “Isn’t it good news, Bridget?” he prodded his wife.

  “What? That my daughter is a fool?”

  Erin’s guts clenched. “I told you not to do this.”

  “I’m just speaking the truth.” She looked at Rory’s grandmother with disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re happy about this.”

  “And why shouldn’t I be?” Gran had a defiant look on her face. “Rory knows he did wrong, and he set it right. He loves your Erin, and she loves him. Get over yourself, Bridget. It’s not all about you.”

  Mouths fell open in shock, but Gran clearly didn’t care. “I’m sorry, but I had to say my piece. I’m not going to sit here while you slag my grandson off.”

  “Nor am I,” said Erin.

  “Oh, so Fiona Brady can say her piece,” her mother said indignantly, “but I can’t.”

  “Go ahead,” Erin challenged. “Say your piece.”

  Beneath the table, Rory was stroking her hand soothingly.

  “You’ve hurt her once,” she said to Rory, “and I’m worried you’ll hurt her again.”

  “That’s legitimate,” Rory agreed. Erin’s mother looked surprised to be agreed with, even more surprised that it was Rory who did it.

  “Let’s say she marries you, and you take her to New York, and then you break her heart. And there she is, having given it all up for you, with none of her people around her, no support system, nothing. Just a slap in the face from you.”

  Erin was getting steamed. “First off, I’ll be getting my own work in America. Second off, I’m not the innocent I was two years ago. I’m clear headed and I know what I want. And if, God forbid, something happens and I—or we—need help, we’ve got Liam’s branch of the family nearby.”

  “The American O’Briens.” Her mother sniffed disdainfully. “I think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, marrying Rory Brady.”

  “It’s not about you, Bridget,” Rory’s gran repeated.

  “Listen,” said Rory calmly, stepping into the fray. “Your fears are absolutely justified, Mrs. O’Brien. But I swear to you, I love your daughter, I’ve learned my lesson, and I will never, ever hurt her again.”

  “Fancy words,” Erin’s mother sneered.

  “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you tear down my grandson,” said Gran, raising her voice.

  “Gran, leave it,” Rory warned quietly.

  “This girl’s been quiet as a church mouse most of her life because of you,” Gran continued. “I, for one, am glad she’s getting away from you, Bridget. Maybe it’ll teach you a lesson.”

  “Gran,” Rory hissed.

  Erin’s mother turned to her father. “Are you going to let her talk to me like this?”

  “She’s got a point,” her dad said quietly.

  “Was I not open to letting her go the first time he was going to take her to New York?”

  “That’s only because you wanted to show off a bit,” Erin said. “‘Look at my daughter with the famous hockey player.’”

  “I never!”

  “You also thought I couldn’t take care of myself,” Erin continued, “so it was good Rory was there. Well, I can take care of myself, and I wasn’t put on this earth to please you. I love Rory, and that’s the end of it.”

  “You think so, eh? If you go off and marry him, you’ll never set foot in here again.”

  “Bloody hell, Bridget,” said Erin’s dad. “Have you gone batty or what? Don’t make threats you might regret.”

  “I stand by what I say. I refuse to watch her ruin her life.”

  Erin stood up. “So you’re saying it’s you or him?”

  “That’s right. Him or your family.”

  “Then I choose him,” Erin said fiercely. “And you’re a stubborn, blind old fool to think I’d choose otherwise. You want to cut me off? Fine. I’ll be round here tomorrow to collect my stuff.”

  Her mother just shr
ugged. “No skin off my nose.”

  “She doesn’t mean it,” Erin’s father assured her. “She’s just being melodramatic.”

  “I do mean it,” Erin’s mother countered emphatically.

  “And so do I,” Erin replied. “Rory, Gran, I think we should go.”

  Gran shook her head, looking at Erin’s mam as if she were contemptible.

  Rory stood, his hand still entwined in Erin’s. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. O’Brien. I thought we’d be able to let bygones be bygones. I’m sad you’ve put Erin in this position. She loves you very much.”

  “I do,” Erin said tearfully. She kissed her father on the cheek.

  “She’ll get over it,” he said under his breath.

  Erin’s mother let her kiss her, but not before giving a small flinch.

  “Thank you for having us,” said Rory’s gran. “I was wondering: might I take home some of the soda bread, since I didn’t really get to have any?”

  Rory looked mortified. “Gran.” He looked at Erin’s dad apologetically. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be daft. We’ve got an uncut loaf in the kitchen.” He fetched it and gave it to Rory’s gran.

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Rory.

  “At least we got something out of it,” Gran muttered as they headed down the stairs.

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Erin said.

  “There’s no need for you to apologize,” Rory said.

  “I second that,” said Gran. “Now let’s go back to mine and have a proper tea.”

  29

  “It’ll blow over,” said Aislinn.

  “She’ll get over it,” said Liam.

  “She’ll come to her senses,” said Rory.

  Erin felt not the smallest spark of hope as she sat at Liam and Aislinn’s kitchen table. After the tea debacle, she’d gone back to Rory’s gran’s with them. Gran sliced soda bread, Rory soothed, and Erin cried, more out of frustration than devastation. She knew her mother might be unpleasant to Rory, but it had never crossed her mind that she would issue an ultimatum. What made it all the more shocking was that she was delusional to think that put in that position, Erin would choose family over Rory. It was a ridiculous challenge, especially since her dad had, in his quiet way, backed her. Why did her mother not respect her decision, or notice that Erin had gotten out from under her thumb? Her mother claimed it all came from a place of love and protection, but Erin knew otherwise and had even called her on it: it came from a place of sheer selfishness and fear, maybe even envy.

  There was no sense in her spending the night at Rory’s gran’s, as there was no place for her to sleep. Erin loved his gran, but she much preferred going up to her cousin’s place, where she’d have her own room. Tomorrow, she’d go round to the B and B to fetch her things, then return to her cousin’s to hunker down in earnest for exams. Truth be told, they were the farthest thing from her mind right now. Concentrate on the difference between baroque and rococo? What a joke!

  “What if she doesn’t?” Erin asked, looking round the table. “What if she doesn’t come round?”

  “Once she realizes she could lose you forever, she will,” Rory assured her.

  “Look, if you think it will help, I’ll go over and try to talk some sense into her,” Liam offered.

  “Absolutely not,” Erin said resolutely. “This is between me and my mother. Thanks for the offer, Li, but I can fight my own fight on this one.” She took a sip of tea. “Trouble is, she’s stubborn as a mule. You’ve really got to back her against a wall to get her to see things your way.”

  “You’ve backed her into the ultimate wall,” said Rory.

  Erin cradled her head in her hands. “Christ, I hope she doesn’t take it out on Sandra.”

  “As if,” said Rory. “Sandra’ll snap her in two.”

  “Plus, if she fires Sandra, she’ll have no help at all,” Aislinn pointed out.

  “True.”

  “You can’t cave on this, Erin.” Aislinn’s voice was firm. “You know that, right?”

  “I do,” said Erin. “It just makes me sad that if she doesn’t come round, she might not be at our wedding.”

  Aislinn looked delighted. “Wedding! And when would that be?”

  Erin looked at Rory blankly. “We haven’t really talked about it yet, have we?”

  “No, we haven’t.” Rory shrugged easily. “Whenever you want, Erin.”

  “I can’t even think about it right now, to be honest. I need to get my exams out of the way first.”

  “It’d be great if you had the wedding here,” said Liam. “On the farm.”

  “Or anywhere nice in Ballycraig, really. It would save money,” Aislinn chimed in. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about flying your folks over, and San, and your nan, Jake…”

  “Look, seriously, you’re doing my head in talking about this,” said Erin. “One thing at a time.” She remembered something. “Isn’t your Finnish friend coming tomorrow?” she asked Rory.

  “Yup. Esa.”

  “It’s a good idea, having him stay here,” Erin said to Rory. “No chance of my mam giving him a hard time because he’s a friend of yours.”

  “Here for a week, right?” Liam checked with Rory.

  “Yeah. Getting a bit of relaxing in before the season starts.”

  “We’ll show him a good time,” said Liam.

  “He’s pretty easygoing. He won’t be a problem.”

  * * *

  “This is where you grew up? No wonder you were so happy to leave.” Esa had just gotten the tour of Ballycraig’s High Street from Rory. The remark rankled, even though Rory knew it was a joke. Esa knew his story full well: how he left Ballycraig when he was fifteen and eventually left Erin, too, not wanting to be strangled by his roots. But now that he was back for the first time in years, and seeing clearly for the first time in a long time, Rory could appreciate the village he’d grown up in, where everyone watched each other’s back and the pace of life was relaxed. The pace had livened up a bit now with the PJ tourists, but it still couldn’t be termed brisk.

  “What’s your beef against my hometown?” Esa had gotten in late last night. Erin had told Rory she was already in bed when Esa arrived and gone in the morning by the time Esa got up. Something about watching Gina for a bit. So his fiancée and friend still hadn’t met yet.

  “It’s very tiny,” Esa continued. “Really tiny.”

  “Not like bustling Helsinki, is it? What did you do for excitement: watch ice melt?”

  “Pretty much. When do the leprechauns come out?”

  “Feck off, Saari.”

  They both laughed out loud, prompting a large number of female heads to turn in their direction.

  “Can’t believe they’re all giving you the once-over,” he told his friend.

  “Now it’s my turn to say ‘fuck you,’” Esa replied. “You should be used to this by now: the women wanting me.”

  “I thought you were still seeing that model Kayla.”

  Esa frowned. “I ended that. She was stupid.”

  “Lookin’ for something meaningful now, are you?” Rory ribbed.

  “When the right one comes, I’ll know. At least I won’t have to resort to a mail-order bride like Torkelson.”

  “C’mon, have some pity for the guy, will ya? She got her damn green card and took off, but not before robbing him blind, I might add. And he fell for her. That’s the heartbreaking bit.”

  “What an idiot.”

  “Yeah, but he’s our idiot.”

  Esa’s attention was drawn to the tourists lining up across the street for the Leary tour. “I want to take the tour.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Esa looked surprised. “You won’t come with me?”

  “No. That’s for losers.”

  “Oh, so you already took it?”

  “Twice, actually.”

  Esa had the shortest attention span on earth. N
ow he was watching a buxom redhead go into Finnegan’s. “Cute,” he remarked.

  “Jailbait, I reckon.”

  “Her ass is too big. Why do Irish women all have such big asses?”

  “Excuse me?” Rory was deeply offended.

  Esa backpedaled. “Not all. Some. I’m sure Erin doesn’t have a big ass.”

  “Even if she did,” Rory replied crossly, “I wouldn’t care. Better that than holdin’ a skeleton in my arms.”

  “Hmmm. You might be right,” Esa conceded. His head turned again, lowering his sunglasses for a better look at a leggy blonde blatantly staring at him. “I’ll meet Erin tonight?”

  “Yeah, down at the Oak. It’ll be me, you, Erin, and Erin’s best mate, Sandra.”

  Esa pushed his sunglasses back up. “Is she hot?”

  The question caught Rory off guard; he’d never really thought about San that way.

  “She’s pretty. But she’s seeing someone.” At least, that’s what he could glean from Jake spending so much time with Sandra. Jake had been uncharacteristically quiet about it.

  “Why isn’t he going to be there?”

  “He’ll be joinin’ us later. In fact, he works up at the farm with Aislinn.”

  “Five people. That must constitute a crowd in this town.”

  “Shut up, you Finnish prick. I’ll show you around a bit more and then you can go on your pathetic tour.”

  30

  Erin would never tell Rory this, but Esa Saari was one gorgeous specimen: hair so thick and black it almost had that blue sheen, and eyes such a deep blue that Erin was sure he was wearing a pair of those fake-colored contacts.

  They were down at the Oak: her, Rory, Esa, and San. Jake was running late. Erin couldn’t wait to see him and San together, even though San insisted they were still just friends. But her eyes glanced away a little when she said it, a big tip-off she was lying.

  Erin’s eyes were burning from sitting in front of her computer most of the day. After a quick hour watching Gina, she’d gone round to the B and B to fetch her things. Liam had been nice enough to drive her into town so she could load her things into Aislinn’s truck. Her guts were twisting when she went inside, but her mother was nowhere to be found.