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Chapter Fourteen

“sam, your dad is here to collect you!” Elizabeth called weakly up-

stairs. There was no answer, just the sound of a pair of little feet running around the landing. She sighed and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t recognize the woman she saw. Her face was swollen and puffy, her hair messed from being blown in the breeze, and damp from rubbing

her teary hands through it.

Luke appeared at the top of the stairs, sleepy-eyed and dressed in his

Spider-Man pajamas, which he refused to allow her to wash, instead hiding them behind his favorite teddy, George, for protection. He rubbed his eyes tiredly with his fists and looked down at her in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Luke, it’s pardon, not huh,” Elizabeth corrected him, then wondered

in her current mood why the hell it mattered. “Sam’s father is still waiting so could you please tell him to hurry down.”

Luke scratched his head in a daze. “But . . .” He stopped and rubbed

his face tiredly.

“But what?”

“Sam’s dad collected him when you were in the gar—” He stopped as

his gaze was diverted to over Elizabeth’s shoulder.

Luke’s face broke into a front-toothless smile. “Oh, hello, Sam’s dad.”

C e c e l i a A h e r n

He giggled uncontrollably. “Sam will be down in a minute.” He laughed,

then he ran back to his room.

Elizabeth had no choice but to turn slowly and face Sam’s father. She

couldn’t continue to avoid him while he waited in her home for his son. On first glance, she noticed he had a look of bewilderment as he watched Luke run back down the hall giggling. He turned to face her, looking worried. He was leaning against the door frame, hands tucked into the back pockets of a pair of faded blue jeans. He wore a blue T-shirt and wisps of jet-black hair escaped from under his blue cap. Despite his youthful attire, she presumed he was her age.

“Don’t worry about Luke,” Elizabeth said, slightly embarrassed at her

nephew’s behavior. “He’s just a little hyper tonight and,” she rushed her words, “I’m sorry you caught me at a bad time in the garden,” Elizabeth said, wrapping her arms around her body protectively. “I’m not usually like this.”

She wiped her eyes with a trembling hand and quickly clasped her hands together to hide her shaking. Her overflow of emotion had disoriented her.

“That’s OK,” the soft deep voice replied. “We all have our bad days.”

Elizabeth chewed on the inside of her mouth and tried in vain to re-

member her last good one. “Edith is away at the moment, I’m sure you’ve had dealings with her, which is why we’ve never met?”

“Oh, Edith.” He smiled. “Luke’s mentioned her lots of times. He’s

very fond of her.”

“Yes.” She smiled weakly and wondered if Luke had ever mentioned

her. “Would you like to sit down?” she motioned toward the living room.

After offering him a drink, she returned from the kitchen with the unusual request for a glass of milk for him and an espresso for herself. She paused at the door of the living room in surprise to catch him spinning around in the leather swivel chair. The sight of him made her smile. On seeing her at the door, he smiled back, stopped spinning, took the glass from her, and then moved to the leather couch. Elizabeth sat in her usual chair, so oversized it almost swallowed her up. She hated herself for hoping his runners wouldn’t dirty her cream carpet.



“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” she said, trying to brighten up the dull tone in her voice.

I f Yo u C o u l d S e e M e N o w

“My name’s Ivan.”

She spluttered coffee down her top as it caught in her throat.

Ivan rushed over to pat her on the back. His concerned eyes stared

right into hers. His forehead creased with worry.

Elizabeth coughed, feeling stupid, quickly broke eye contact, and

cleared her throat. “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” she murmured. “It’s just funny that your name is Ivan, because . . .” she stopped. What was she going to say? Tell a stranger that her nephew was delusional? Regardless of the In-ternet advice, she still wasn’t sure his behavior could be considered normal.

“Oh, it’s a long story.” She waved her hand dismissively and looked away to take another sip. “So, what is it that you do, Ivan, if you don’t mind me asking?” The warm coffee ran through her body. She felt herself coming back, slipping out of the coma of sadness.

“I guess you could say I’m in the business of making friends, Elizabeth.”

She smiled understandingly. “Isn’t everyone who’s in business?”

He contemplated that idea.

“So, what’s your company called?”

His eyes lit up. “It’s a good company. I really love my job.”

“Good Company?” She frowned. “I’m not familiar with it. Is it based

here in Kerry?”

Ivan blinked. “It’s based everywhere, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “It’s international?”

Ivan nodded and gulped down some milk.

“What is the company involved in?”

“Children,” he said quickly. “Apart from Olivia, who works with the el-

derly. But I work with children. I help them, you see. Well, it used to be just children, but now it seems we’re branching out . . . I think. . . .” he trailed off, tapped his glass with his fingernail, and frowned into the distance.

“Ah, that’s nice.” Elizabeth smiled. His working with children ex-

plained the youthful clothes and playful nature. “I suppose if you see room in another market you need to get in there, don’t you? Expand the company, increase the profit. I’m always looking at ways to do that.”

“What market?”

“The elderly.”

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“They have a market? Great, I wonder when it’s on. Sundays, I sup-

pose? You can always pick up a few good knick-knacks here and there, can’t you? My old friend Barry’s dad used to get second-hand cars and fix them up. His mom used to buy curtains and make them into clothes. She looked like something from The Sound ofMusic. Good thing she lives here too, because every Sunday she wanted to ‘climb every mountain,’ and because

Barry was my best friend, I had to do it you see. When is it on, do you think? Not the film, I mean the market.”

Elizabeth barely heard him; her mind had slipped back into thinking

mode. She couldn’t stop herself.

“Are you all right?” he asked with that kind voice.

She stopped staring into the bottom of her coffee cup to face him. Why

did he look like he cared so much? Who was this softly spoken stranger

who made her feel so comfortable in his presence? Each twinkle in his blue eyes added another goose bump to her skin, his gaze was hypnotic, and the tone of his voice was like a favorite song she wanted to blare and put on repeat. Who was this man who came into her house and asked her a question not even her own family could ask? Are you all right? Well? Was she all right? She swirled the coffee in the cup and watched as it swished around, hitting the sides and spraying up like the sea against the cliffs of Slea Head.

She thought about it and came to the conclusion that if the last time she had heard those words uttered by anyone was more than a few years ago, then she supposed the answer was no. She was not all right.

She was tired of hugging pillows, counting on blankets for warmth, and

reliving romantic moments only in her dreams. She was tired of hoping that every day would hurry so she could get on to the next. Hoping that it would be a better day, an easier day. But it never was. Worked, paid the bills, and went to bed but never slept. Each morning the weight on her shoulders got heavier and heavier and each morning she wished for night to fall quickly so she could return to her bed to hug her pillows and wrap herself in the

warmth of her blankets.

She looked at the kind stranger with the blue eyes watching her and saw more care in those eyes than she had in those of anyone she knew. She

wanted to tell him how she felt, she wanted to hear him say it would be OK, I f Yo u C o u l d S e e M e N o w

that she wasn’t alone, and that they would all live happily ever after and that— She stopped herself. Dreams, wishes, and hopes were not realistic.

She needed to stop her mind from wandering onto those paths. She had a

good job and she and Luke were healthy. That was all she needed. She

looked up at Ivan and thought about how to respond to his question. Was she all right?

He took a sip of his milk.

Her face broke into a smile and she started laughing, for above his lip was a milk moustache so big it reached the end of his nostrils. “Yes, thank you, Ivan, I’m all right.”

He looked unsure as he wiped his mouth and, after a while of studying

her, spoke. “So, you’re an interior designer?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Yes, how did you know?”

Ivan’s eyes danced. “I know everything.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Don’t all men.” She looked at her watch. “I don’t

know what Sam’s up to. Your wife will probably think I’ve abducted the two of you.”

“Oh, I’m not married,” Ivan replied quickly. “Girls, uugh.” He made

a face.

Elizabeth laughed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you and Fiona weren’t

together.”

“Fiona?” Ivan looked confused.

“Sam’s mother?” Elizabeth asked, feeling foolish.

“Oh, her? ” Ivan made another face. “No way. ” He leaned forward on the leather couch and it squeaked beneath his jeans. A familiar sound to Elizabeth. “You know, she makes this awful chicken dish. Sauce really ruins the chicken.”

Elizabeth found herself laughing again. “That’s an unusual reason not

to like someone.” But oddly enough, Luke had complained about it to her also, after eating dinner at Sam’s over the weekend.

“Not if you like chicken, it’s not,” he replied honestly. “Chicken is by far my favorite.” Ivan smiled.

Elizabeth nodded, trying to suppress a giggle.

“Well, my favorite kind of poultry, really.”

C e c e l i a A h e r n

That did it. She started laughing again. Luke must have picked up

some of his phrases.

“What?” Ivan smiled widely, revealing a set of sparkling white teeth.

“You,” Elizabeth said, trying to calm herself and control her laughter.

She couldn’t believe she was acting like this with a total stranger.

“What about me?”

“You’re funny.” She smiled.

“You’re beautiful,” he said calmly and she looked up at him in surprise.

Her face flushed. What kind of a thing was that to say? There was an-

other silence, uncomfortable on her part, as she wondered whether to be in-sulted or not. Rarely did people make such comments to Elizabeth. She

didn’t know how she was supposed to feel.

On sneaking a peek at Ivan, she was intrigued to see he didn’t look at all perplexed or embarrassed. As though he said it all the time. A man like him probably did, she thought cynically. A charmer, that’s all he was. Although, as much as she stared at him with forced disdain, she couldn’t really bring herself to believe that. This man did not know her, had met her less than ten minutes ago, had told her she was beautiful, and yet remained seated in her living room as if he were her best friend, looking around the room as

though it was the most interesting place he had ever seen. He had such a friendly nature, was easy to talk to, easy to listen to, and despite telling her she was beautiful while she sat in old tattered clothes with red-rimmed eyes and greasy hair, he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. The more they sat in silence, the more she realized he had simply paid her a compliment.

“Thank you, Ivan,” she said politely.

“And thank you, too.”

“For what?”

“You said I was funny.”

“Oh, yes. Well, em . . . you’re welcome.”

“You don’t get many compliments, do you?”

Elizabeth should have stood up right there and then, ordered him out

of her living room for being so intrusive, but she didn’t, because as much as she thought she should, technically, according to her own rules, be bothered by this, she wasn’t. She sighed. “No, Ivan, I don’t.”

I f Yo u C o u l d S e e M e N o w

He smiled at her. “Well, let that be the first of many.”

He stared at her and her face began to twitch from holding his stare for so long. “Is Sam staying with you tonight?”

Ivan rolled his eyes. “I hope not. For a boy of only six years of age, he snores awfully loud.”

Elizabeth smiled. “There’s nothing only about being si—” She stopped herself and gulped back some coffee.

He raised his eyebrows. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. While Ivan was looking around the room,

Elizabeth stole another glance at him; she couldn’t figure out how old he was. He was tall and muscular; manly, yet with a boyish charm. He confused her. She decided to cut to the chase.

“Ivan, I’m confused about something.” She took a breath to ask her

question.

“Don’t be. Never be confused.”

Elizabeth felt herself frown and smile at the same time; her face was

even confused by his statement. “OK,” she said slowly. “Do you mind me

asking what age you are?”

“No,” he said happily. “I don’t mind at all.”

Silence.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What age are you?”

Ivan smiled. “Well, let’s just say I’ve been told by one person in particular that I’m old like you.”

Elizabeth laughed. She had thought as much. Obviously, Ivan hadn’t

been spared any of Luke’s unsubtle comments.

“Children keep you young, though, Elizabeth.” His voice turned seri-

ous, his eyes deep and thoughtful. “My job is to care for children, help them along their way and just be there for them.”

“You’re a care worker?” Elizabeth asked.

Ivan thought about that. “You could call me a care worker, professional best friend, guide. . . .” He held out his hands and shrugged. “Children are the ones that know exactly what’s going on in the world, you know. They see 114

C e c e l i a A h e r n

more than adults, believe in more, are honest, and will always, always let you know where you stand.”

Elizabeth nodded along with him; he obviously loved his job. As a fa-

ther and as a care worker.

“You know, it’s interesting.” He leaned forward again. “Children learn

much more, far more quickly than adults. Do you know why that is?”

Elizabeth assumed there was some scientific explanation for it, but

shook her head.

“Because they’re open-minded. Because they want to know and they want to learn. Adults”—he shook his head sadly—“think they know it all.

They grow up and forget so easily instead of opening their minds, they choose what to believe and what not to believe. You can’t make a choice on things like that, you either believe or you don’t. That’s why their learning is slower. They are more cynical, they lose faith, and they only demand to know things that will help them get by day by day. They’ve no interest in the extras. But, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice a loud whisper, eyes wide and sparkling, and Elizabeth shivered as goose pimples rose on her arms. She felt as if he were sharing the world’s greatest secret with her. She moved her head closer.

“It’s the extras that make life.”

“That make life what?” she whispered.

He smiled. “That make life.”

Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s it?”

Ivan smiled. “What do you mean, that’s it? How much more can you

get than life, how much more can you ask for than life? That’s the gift. Life is everything, and you haven’t lived it properly until you believe.”

“Believe in what?”

Ivan rolled his eyes and smiled. “Oh, Elizabeth, you’ll figure it out.”

Elizabeth wanted the extras he spoke about. She wanted the sparkle

and the excitement of life, she wanted to release balloons in a barley field and fill a room with pink fairy cakes. Her eyes filled again and her heart thudded in her chest at the thought of crying in front of him. She needn’t have worried, because he stood up slowly.

“Elizabeth,” he said gently, “on that note, I shall leave you. It was my pleasure to spend this time with you.” He held out his hand.

I f Yo u C o u l d S e e M e N o w

When Elizabeth held out her own to touch his soft skin, he grasped it

gently and pumped it hypnotically. She couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat that had taken over.

“Good luck with your meeting tomorrow.” He smiled encouragingly

and with that he exited the living room. The door was closed behind him by Luke, who shouted “Bye, Sam!” at the top of his voice, laughed loudly, and then pounded up the stairs.

Later that night, Elizabeth lay in bed, her head hot, her nose blocked, and her eyes sore from crying. She hugged her pillow and snuggled down

into her duvet. The open curtains allowed the moon to shine a path of

silver-blue light across her room. She gazed out the window at the same moon she had watched as a child, at the same stars she had wished upon, and a thought struck her.

She hadn’t mentioned anything at all to Ivan about her meeting tomorrow.


Date: 2015-04-20; view: 365


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