Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
It was only when she’d come home early one day and witnessed him shouting insults at me that she’d finally realised the truth. She’d kicked Ronnie out that very same day.
I’d like to say he was the last bad apple she’d welcomed into our lives, but that would have been a lie. Mam had been a gentle, soft woman. The sort of woman who’d believed in fate and guardian angels and signs from the universe. One of my earliest memories as a small boy was spending time with her in my grandparents’ back garden. I spotted a yellow ladybird on the grass and was fascinated because I’d only ever seen red ones. Mam had smiled fondly and told me it was a good omen, that yellow ladybirds symbolised future prosperity and that whenever I saw one, it was a higher power telling me good things were coming. As a wide-eyed little kid, I’d believed her. Now, I simply saw it as the kind of naïve thinking that had her handing her heart over to the wrong men time and again.
Mam had been far too trusting and easily charmed, and something about her seemed to call to every prick in a fifty-mile radius. It was why when she’d introduced me to Ada’s father, a man who I’d discovered through the grapevine was a longtime alcoholic who’d been in debt most of his life and had had his licence revoked for drunk driving, I reached my capacity to watch her get walked all over again. I’d told her it was him or me.
She’d refused to choose, which, in essence, meant she chose him.
And I’d lost her forever.
Now, having listened to Ada speak of her father at the funeral and the few times he’d come up in conversation, I’d begun to doubt myself. Had I made a mistake giving Mam that ultimatum? Had Conor Rose been, by some sick twist of fate and despite his checkered past, the only good, decent man my mother had ever been with?
Some part of me didn’t want to know the answer. I wasn’t certain I could withstand the pain of what might possibly be the truth.
The following night, I knocked in on Ada. She answered the door with a somewhat awkward smile, “All good. Thanks for checking on me.”
“Sleep well,” I said as she closed the door.
Okay, that was unsatisfyingly brief. I hadn’t expected the interaction to be so curt, and I felt rather rejected. I needed to get a grip. She just wanted me to ensure she wasn’t having a medical emergency. We weren’t friends, and she wasn’t going to invite me in for tea and crumpets.
On Monday, my half sister and building manager, Maggie, knocked on my office door at work.
“I’m about to head to a meeting, so make it quick.” I was short with her because I’d been in a grumpy mood all morning. I’d had a heart-wrenching dream about Mam last night. She’d been standing at the end of a bridge, but no matter how much I ran, I could never get to her. The bridge just kept expanding and expanding, rendering her forever out of reach.
I was never snappish with Maggie. Of all the people in my life, her company was the most preferable. She’d just caught me at a bad moment.
“Are you okay? Are you getting enough sleep? You look tired.”
“Thanks. Very kind of you to say,” I grumped as I collected some documents from a cabinet behind me. “What do you need?”
“Well, all right, then, if that’s how it’s going to be,” Maggie said, pulling a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you. It’s the contact details of a grief counsellor. Shay and his dad saw her after his mother passed. She comes highly recommended.”
I picked up the paper and stared at the name and contact details, my gut twisting at the idea of talking to anyone about the utter hell I currently lived in. “Thank you.”
“Are you going to make an appointment?”
“Maybe.”
“I think you should. You haven’t been yourself.”
“Maggie, I said I might. If you keep pushing, I’ll tear up this paper and throw it in the bin.” She blinked, and I knew by her face that I’d upset her. I released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. Look, I’ll think about the counselling, but right now, I really have to go, or I’ll be late for my meeting.”
She left, and I felt like a piece of shit for being a dick to her. Maggie didn’t deserve it. I made a note to have Therese send her a box of the fancy tea she liked as an apology.
I hated feeling this way. I was so completely off-kilter.
Despite my erratic emotional state, the week passed in a predictable fashion. I went to work, came home, checked on Ada. She always answered the door in soft, cosy looking pyjamas or loungewear. Sometimes her hair was down, the dark, voluminous tresses hanging about her shoulders. Other times, it was tied back in a ponytail or a braid, and I’d be struck with the foreign urge to release it from its clip or tie.