Page 112
brEAKING brEAD AND MENDING brIDGES
Hugh
JUNE 24, 2000
S PRAWLED OUT ON A MOUNTAIN OF CUSHIONS ON MY GIRLFRIEND’S BEDROOM FLOOR , I tapped on the controller in my hands and stared at the screen in front of me, only half-interested in the game I was playing.
I’d brought my old gaming console over to Lizzie’s place last weekend and had set it up on the fourteen-inch portable in her bedroom. The graphics were dog shit compared to the top-of-the-range PS1 back at my own house, but it came in useful on days like this, when she couldn’t lift her head off the pillow and I couldn’t quite get myself to leave her bedside.
She was sleeping now, and I wasn’t sure if her catatonic state was from sedatives or exhaustion. I suspected both. The doctor had made an out-of-hours house visit today, and I knew she’d been given an injection of some sort.
I had faith Liz would get through this, that she would eventually come back to me, but her lows were intensifying in both length and frequency, and I couldn’t be sure if her grief was the driving force behind it or her bipolar disorder.
It was heartbreaking to watch her fade away in front of my eyes and know that there was nothing I could do to stop the depression from consuming her. My only solace when she was like this was the fact that she was too exhausted to hurt herself. At least when she was experiencing a depressive episode, I could stand guard over her.
I can keep her safe .
A low knock sounded on her bedroom door, followed by Mike popping his head around the door. His eyes went to his daughter first before settling on me. When he was satisfied that I was a safe distance from her bed, he nodded in approval. “Any movement?”
“Not since the doctor knocked her out,” I replied, pressing pause on my game to give him my full attention. “How’s Catherine?”
Mike shook his head, and that was enough to tell me that his wife wasn’t good. “Come downstairs for a bite to eat, son.” His gaze flicked to his daughter once more and he sighed. “She’ll be out for the night.”
“I was unfair to you, Hughie,” Mike announced as we sat across the kitchen table from each other. “After the funeral, I let my grief blind me. You’ve always been a good lad, and I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”
“You were under a lot of pressure,” I offered, shoveling a forkful of pasta into my mouth. “Still are.”
“True,” he replied, clearing his throat. “But I’m not too proud to admit that my wife and I couldn’t have gotten through the past couple of months without your help.”
Unsure of what to say, I simply nodded my head and continued eating.
“It’s her anniversary,” he added after a long beat. “Two months today.”
“Yeah.” Releasing a pained sigh, I set my cutlery down and leaned back in my chair, giving the man my full attention. “I know.”
“Caoimhe Catherine Young,” he whispered, staring lifelessly across the table at me. “My beautiful, blue-eyed baby girl.”
I wanted to tell him that he had another blue-eyed baby girl upstairs in bed, but I didn’t have the heart to kick the man when he was down, especially since he made the effort to cook a meal for me. The fact that I was the only one eating while he nursed a tumbler of whiskey was proof to that pudding.
“You’re keeping the head, Mike,” I decided to tell him. “You’re doing okay .”
Lonesome, pale-blue eyes, so similar to my girlfriend’s, stared back at me. “I’m hanging on by a thread here, son.”
“That’s okay,” I replied carefully. “Just as long as you keep hanging on.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it’ll be easier now that bastard Mark Allen is gone.”
“Yeah,” I agreed quietly, knowing that I had a whole heap I wanted to say about the prick but having the good sense to keep it in my head. “I heard they took him to the airport this morning.”
“Good fucking riddance.” Mike’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a menacing tone when he added, “Although, how he gets to swan off traveling the world while my daughter rots in the ground is something I’ll never come to terms with.” The hand he was using to grip his tumbler of whiskey started to tremble. “And to think I welcomed him into my home with open arms.” He cleared his throat again, but it sounded like a snarl. “Meanwhile, you were seven years old when you came bounding up the lane.” He paused to drain the contents of his glass, before adding, “And even then, you were more of a man than he’ll ever be.”
Jesus .
Mike’s admission confounded me because, while I’d never been on his bad side, my girlfriend’s father certainly hadn’t taken much of an interest in me. Sure, he was polite and friendly in passing, but nothing like this .
“I suppose I backed the wrong horse, didn’t I?” Mike choked out a humorless laugh, while discretely wiping a tear from his eye. “Well, I’m not afraid to admit my mistakes.” He gave me a meaningful look when he said, “I have my differences with your parents, and we don’t need to go into why, but there’s no denying they raised a fine young man.”
“I’m not him ,” I blurted out, tone urgent. “I swear it, Mike.” Resting my elbows on the table, I leaned forward and implored him with my eyes to believe me. “I will never hurt your daughter.”
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