Page 27 of Anxious Hearts

Kelly’s mother, June, sat at the foot of the table, her father at the head.

Kelly and her older brother, Fergus, facing each other on either side.

June bowed her head over their lunch and thanked God for the food and their family.

Kelly also dipped her head, but looked at her father, whose eyes were shut so tight he might give himself a stroke.

Even prayer was a competition for that man.

June was beautifully dressed as always and though her hair was more grey now than blonde, it was still arranged atop her head with class and a touch of glamour.

‘You missed a lovely service, this morning, Kelly,’ she said.

‘Such a shame you couldn’t take a few hours off on Easter Sunday to come along with us. ’

‘God understands,’ her father, Roy, said. ‘He knows that Kelly needs to spend every minute she can preparing for her exam.’

Fergus waved a fork at her. ‘Better than beating people up in supermarkets.’

Kelly couldn’t breathe. ‘You know about that?’

‘Fergus!’ June said sharply. ‘We agreed not to talk about the incident.’

‘What? It’s hardly a secret. It’s trending on Twitter and is all over the news.’

Kelly had deliberately avoided going online since she’d left Juliana that morning.

She didn’t have Instagram on her phone anymore – she let Juliana run her account.

Kelly just sent her pictures every now and again and let the expert come up with banal captions and mind-numbing hashtags.

Kelly had also approved a few proforma responses that Juliana rolled out depending on the type of messages she received.

Whenever she received a dick pic, Juliana simply deleted the message and blocked the sender.

‘How bad is it, Ferg?’ Kelly asked.

He grimaced. ‘Pretty bad. They’re calling you Dr Omelette.’

Her father chuckled. ‘That’s actually pretty good.’

‘I don’t get it,’ Kelly said.

‘Because you break eggs to make an omelette, darling,’ her mother said. ‘Well, people who cook do.’

‘Not the time, Mum.’

‘I agree,’ June said. ‘Let’s not talk about all this now. Lunch is served.’

It was one of the rare times in her life that Kelly appreciated her mother’s steadfast dedication to avoiding problems, conflict and uncomfortable conversations.

She often joked with her brother that they would one day adorn their mother’s tombstone with the epitaph: June O’Mara – A lifetime devoted to sweeping shit under the rug.

But that was not the style June’s fiercely competitive children had adopted. And Kelly owed her brother a hit. ‘Are we allowed to talk about Fergus’s marriage?’ she said sweetly.

‘Was Fergus married?’ Roy said with barely concealed con-tempt. ‘Must have set some kind of record for world’s shortest-lived nuptials.’

‘Thanks for your loving support as always, Dad.’

The air between father and son crackled with tension.

June put her knife and fork down. ‘That’s enough. Easter Sunday is a time to celebrate family and be thankful for all that God had given us.’

Fergus cocked his head. ‘A failed marriage and a career in tatters?’

‘God didn’t give you a failed marriage,’ Kelly said. ‘That was your wandering member.’

Roy picked up his wine glass. ‘Kelly, you know the rules. We don’t talk about Fergus’s member at the table.’

‘Thank God he doesn’t get it out at dinner anymore like he used to when he was a little boy,’ June said.

Roy snorted red wine through his nose, Fergus howled with false indignation and Kelly nearly choked on a mouthful of roast potatoes. June didn’t often spear anyone with her wit, but when she did, she speared them all the way through.

Roy put his knife and fork down and leaned on his elbows, fixing his gaze on Kelly.

She stole a quick sideways glance at Fergus, whose face confirmed what they both knew was coming. They’d seen that expression on their father’s face a thousand times and more as kids. The lecture was about to begin.

‘You let yourself down at the supermarket, Kelly. But not because you assaulted that moron. He deserved a punch in the face more than an egg on his shirt.’

‘Roy!’ June hissed.

He ignored her. ‘You let yourself down because you let yourself get distracted by an unremarkable person with a small, unremarkable life. That man means nothing to us. He’s not one of the special ones, Kelly.

He’s not like you. He’ll never be anybody.

And if you want to be somebody, you can’t make that mistake again.

Laser focus. That’s what you need. Focus and hard work. ’

Kelly could feel the heat of Fergus’s shame and indignation radiating towards her just like when they were kids.

Not once had her father called his son special.

It was always Kelly who promised the most. Kelly who delivered the best results.

Kelly who could be relied upon to succeed.

Fergus just continued on the path of proving his father right by fucking up time after time after time.

When he did, their father put it down to his flawed character.

When Kelly made a mistake, it was because she stooped to the level of the unremarkable mob.

Fergus spread his arms wide and smiled caustically. ‘Just like old times,’ he said.

‘Speaking of old times,’ June said in a fluster, predictably changing the subject, ‘when is Finley coming over today?’

‘He’s not coming over.’

They all looked at her with wide eyes.

‘What do you mean?’ June said. ‘Finley comes over every year on Easter Sunday. We’ve got him an egg and everything.’

‘Not this year. He’s got something else on,’ she said.

‘Bullshit,’ Fergus said.

June scowled. ‘Fergus!’

He shrugged. ‘What? Finn comes over every Easter. There’s no way he’s—’ Fergus made air quotes with his fingers, ‘—“got something else on”.’

The truth was that Finn was spending the afternoon with Ashley’s family.

Kelly had been shocked when he’d told her via text message that morning.

It was a spontaneous decision, he’d said, and Kelly wondered what had transpired on their date night in Finn’s apartment.

She didn’t want to think about it. Not so much as to what they did or didn’t do, but that Finn had chosen Ashley over her.

After spending time with his mother, Finn would always come to the O’Mara’s on Christmas Day and Easter Sunday.

He loved the way the family was all together, enjoying each other’s company.

It was something that had been taken from him when he was just a boy.

For him to so callously text Kelly to say he was trading them in for a new family made her think that perhaps Ashley meant more to him than he had let on.

That Toula was wrong about it being a fling.

June narrowed her eyes at her daughter. ‘Is everything all right, honey?’

Kelly’s throat tightened. Her mum always knew. ‘Yeah, yeah, of course. He’s just … he’s dating this new girl.’ It was all she could think to say.

‘Well, that’s great,’ June said. ‘He should bring her over as well. I’d love to meet her.’

‘They’re with her family today.’

Kelly saw her own family’s collective agreement not to push any further. They all knew she was hurting, but they would let it be, for now.

***

Two hours later, when they were all sleepy from the roast and the wine, Kelly took a bottle of champagne and two glasses and found her brother sitting on the bench her mother had placed among the flowers in their expansive garden at the front of the house.

His eyes were glazed and his movements were slow – he was as buzzed as she was.

She sat down beside him on the bench as the warm autumn sun prickled the skin of her bare arms. Fergus took a long drag on a cigarette.

‘Got another one of those?’ Kelly said.

He looked up at the sky and languidly expelled the smoke from his lungs, watching it drift lazily in the toasty afternoon air. ‘You don’t smoke,’ he said.

‘Neither do you.’

‘My marriage fell apart.’

‘The internet knows me as Dr Omelette.’

He nodded and flicked open the cigarette packet adorned with the ghastly rotten teeth of some pathetic soul.

Kelly slid one out, the soft paper touch still sending a thrill of rebellion up her fingertips like static electricity.

She lit the end, drew back hard and held the burning poison in her lungs.

The head rush made her giddy and her chest felt ready to explode.

She exhaled and butted out on the seat. ‘Filthy habit.’

Fergus laughed.

Kelly poured them both a glass of champagne and they toasted in silence. She drank the whole glass, tilting her head back until the warmth in her chest matched the heat of the sun on her exposed throat.

When she poured another, Fergus looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

‘What?’ Kelly asked.

‘Oh, nothing. It’s just that you only drink and smoke like a Vegas hooker when you’re in some seriously deep shit.’

Kelly felt the alcohol numb her. Mute the realisation of the utter chaos and terror of everyday life. ‘What do you know about Vegas hookers?’ she said. Then she raised a finger. ‘Wait – don’t answer that.’

Fergus patted her leg. ‘Don’t worry, sis. I’m not that depraved. And I’m also not drunk enough to miss that little piece of redirection.’

Kelly felt a goofy smile form on her lips. It was heavy and uncooperative. Lopsided.

‘Where’s Finn?’ Fergus said.

‘I told you. He’s with his girlfriend.’

‘And how do you feel about that?’

Kelly drank more. She stared at the brilliant colour and life of her mother’s garden through her dull eyes.

‘Like I don’t want a fucking counselling session on Easter Sunday from my brother.

Anyway, I’ve got more serious shit to deal with.

The Society Board has called a crisis meeting for Tuesday morning. ’

‘The video?’

‘Yep.’

‘You don’t seem too stressed.’

‘I’m half-cut.’

‘Still.’