To Love a Way of Life (7 page)

“That’s the thing, how do I balance my business life down there with what’s happening with Patrick?” Emma asked.

“Didn’t I tell you you worry too much?” Mary said. “And you worked too hard at your last job.”

“Not that it saved me,” Emma said.

“This will be good for you, you have a man you like down there, and he likes you which always makes things easier. You’ll find your way.”

“I’m a little scared,” Emma said. She hadn’t realised it, but speaking to her mother it dawned on her. She could open up to her and now she could admit how daunting this all was.

“Are you cycling anymore? What about painting?”

“No, my front wheel bent in a pothole and I don’t have the time to get it fixed.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for yourself if you make time for yourself,” Mary said.

“I’ll draw down there. I’ll bring my pencils.”

“Buy yourself some new paints too, treat yourself and make sure you use them.” She said.

“I’ve never painted, Mam. It’s always been drawing; with charcoal, pastels and pencils.”

“Well now’s the time to learn, plenty of views down there. Push yourself to have some fun.”

“Please, Mam,” Emma said. She knew her mother cared for her but she just needed some reassurance.

“Ok, let’s go for a walk into town, Jenna could probably do with a break from Anthony, the baby is teething and a toddler is always a handful.”

Emma loved Anthony, he was adorable. When he was learning to walk he’d fall back on his butt, and laugh at the padding the nappy provided. He’d bounce up and down on the spot.

They knocked on Jenna’s door, she was only 24 and she already had a three year old and a two month old. Emma knew her mother wanted grandchildren, and it didn’t look like Emma would be providing any soon so she looked after her neighbour’s kids any chance she got.

“You’re looking tired Jenna,” she said. Me and Emma wanted to know if you’d let us to take little Anthony for a walk into town.

“Oh god, Mary! You’re a lifesaver. I’ve been trying to get the baby to sleep for an hour and Anthony is wrecking the place.”

“He’s at that age, bundles of energy until he gets tired, then he’s too cranky for a nap.”

Jenna had the buggy by the door already, and called for Anthony. He bounded out to them and handed his mother a little plastic tractor.

“Aunty Mary and Emma are going to take you for a walk,” she said. “Will you promise to be good for them?” He shook his head, he had no intention of behaving.

“Make him walk for as long as you can manage. If he tires himself out let him sleep on the way back but not too much. I’d like him in bed early tonight.”

“I know the routine well,” Mary said to Jenna. Emma’s mother looked at Emma and smiled.

“Is that why we had so many walks when I was young?” Emma asked. She felt she’d figured out a big trick played on her childhood. Mary and Jenna exchanged a look that told Emma they thought she’d just come down with the last shower of rain.

“Put your jacket on Anthony! We don’t want you getting a cold.” The toddler struggled getting into his coat as he wiped his sleeve against his nose.

Emma spent most of the walk chasing after him. As they arrived in the city centre the little man was very good about holding her hand, and waiting for the green man before they crossed at the traffic lights.

“Would you like some new crayons, Anthony?” Mary asked.

“Yes!” He shouted.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, new crayons,” he said. Then finally, “Please.” It seemed like a well won battle to get the ‘please’ out of his mouth. Emma couldn’t help but think his stubbornness was far too cute.

“Let’s go!” She said. The toddler jumped up on down on the spot as his grip on Emma kept firm.

They walked into the art supply store. They had a few kid’s play sets but they mostly dealt in supplies for artists who needed the best. Emma realised her mother buying crayons for Anthony was really a ploy.

“I’ll find the crayons and you pick out some paints and brushes for yourself,” she said. Emma knew it was coming.

“Ok, but you’re not paying for them.”

“You have to let me get you something. A new job, and a new home in the country?” She said. “I want to buy you something.”

“You only work part time, Mam. I’ll get them for myself now you have me here.” Emma said.

“Let your mother treat you, it’s the only joy she has,” Mary said.

“You spend every Saturday night dancing in the pub, and play poker on Tuesdays. You have plenty of joy without wasting your money on me.”

“You wouldn’t deny an old wo—“

“You’re not even fifty five, Mam! Cut out the old woman business.”

“I’m happy for you, Emma,” she said. “You deserve a nice life. And once you’re happy I’m happy.”

“Patrick said the same,” she said.

“And you’d do well to listen to him.”

They arrived back to Jenna’s house with a sleeping Anthony in his buggy.

“How long has he been out?” She asked.

“Just fifteen minutes, we stopped at the picnic tables and he drew in his new colouring book,” Mary said.

“Ah, Mary,” she said. “You shouldn’t spend your money on him. He has more toys than he knows what to do with.”

“My own daughter won’t let me spend money on her, so I have to spend my money on someone’s child.”

The two women gave each other another knowing look. Emma’s mother was fifty three and Jenna was barely in her twenties, they were separated by an entire generation but they shared something special. Emma knew it was something only a mother could have for her child. She looked down at the toddler in the buggy. He had turned from a little handful that kept her on her guard to a placid little angel just by falling asleep. Emma looked at her mother and Jenna, and saw something in their faces that she knew she wanted for herself.

***

E
mma waited for Sandra in Grant’s. It was only a couple of weeks since she had met Patrick here, and Stan of course. Him nuzzling his shiny nose into her. The morning spent with her mother’s encouragement her had tired her out and she wanted a change of pace with Sandra. Emma was most of the way through a double gin and tonic when she arrived.

“You’re all change now I guess!” Sandra said.

“Mam was her usual enthusiastic self,” Emma said.

“She’s trying to help you.”

“She says she wants me to be happy, but she’s pushy with happiness.”

“But you do need to push yourself for that,” she said. “You were working nonstop at Desmond, etcetera and you didn’t take time.”

“I don’t want to fail, I want to be good at what I do.”

“You are good at what you do, but you have to take time for yourself too,” Sandra said.

“I’m thinking about kids,” Emma said.

Sandra paused. Emma knew Sandra had almost had a kid herself. Her boyfriend was ready, she thought she was ready but the pregnancy didn’t work out, and then the relationship didn’t work out. Sandra still wasn’t fully over it but Emma needed to say it.

“You’ve never talked about kids seriously before,” she said.

“I know, I’ve thought about them but saying it meant something different.”

“Maybe Desmond, etcetera laying you off changed your perspective?” Sandra said, it was half question, half statement.

“I think so. I think I want more from life than accounting.”

“That’s what you’re mother’s been trying to say to you,” Sandra said. “She may not put it fantastically but you’ve never been happy dedicating your life to only one thing.”

“I’d have to dedicate my life to a child if I had one,” she said.

“You won’t dedicate anything to a child, they become part of your life. And it’s not the 70s, you can have a job, and children, and hobbies,” Sandra said. “And nights out with me.” Sandra scooted over to Emma on the couch and put her arm around her. Emma started to feel tears in her eyes.

“I never thought this would happen,” she said. “I’m not ready for it.”

“You have been thinking about it, you just said. And it’s accepting it that’s getting you like this. Not that you don’t think you’re capable, or that it’s wrong for you.” Sandra squeezed Emma’s shoulders. “You’ll make a great mother, and you’ll have your work, and you’ll have me, and your mother, and all those other friends you have who aren’t as important as me.”

Emma laughed, “Can you imagine having this conversation with Amy?”

“She’d need a Valium,” Sandra said. “But she’d make do with a double vodka and a jaeger bomb.”

“We’re too old for that,” Emma said.

“So you’re ready to settle down?” Emma saw the look in Sandra’s eye as she asked that. If she said ‘yes’ to this it would settle the matter for Sandra. She knew how she answered this would determine how Sandra treated her whenever it came up. She knew Sandra would support her no matter what.

“I am, I think so anyway,” she said. “But Patrick.”

“You like Patrick,” Sandra said.

“We’ve only just kissed. I haven’t even seen him with his top off, never mind sex. And to be thinking about a family?”

“He’s an older man, maybe he’s ready for this?”

“How do I even bring it up? ‘Hi, we just kissed but do you want to father my child?’”

“That’s what the next few months are for,” Sandra said. “Try not to think about it constantly, but you keep in the back of your mind that little question, ‘Will he be a father to my child?’”

“I think that’s what set this off for me,” Emma said. “When we talked over that dinner I kept thinking he’s the type of man I would have wanted for a father.”

“Jason wasn’t the type of man I wanted to be a father.”

Emma squeezed Sandra’s knee. She knew it was hard for Sandra to even mention this. She only brought it up when she was really upset, which was so rare. She kept everything on such an even keel.

“You’ll find him,” Emma said.

“I know, girl,” Sandra said. “We both will.”

***

E
mma packed up her car ready to go in the morning. Her talk with Sandra had set her at ease. She’d try it with Patrick. If it didn’t work out, it didn’t work out. If he wasn’t right for her it’s better to find out sooner rather than later. If the business side of things worked out but the relationship didn’t she’d be mature enough to set things aside for the sake of her clients, and she really believed Patrick could do the same.

She didn’t know how things stood between them. He hadn’t called or even texted since she left Ballyhane on Sunday. It didn’t bother Emma, but she did realise it was different to all the boyfriends she had had before. Maybe he was different, and maybe that’s why a relationship would work with him. Emma fell asleep thinking of a relationship that meant something; a relationship with Patrick, and a daughter of her own.

A
s Emma rose she was disgusted by her thoughts from the night before. She couldn’t believe how fantastical her thoughts became of her and Patrick starting a family. She had been imagining rising next to him on a sunny Sunday morning, drinking coffee in their dressing gowns in his kitchen while their daughter painted on the well-worn wooden table. They’d get dressed and they’d all take Stan for a walk to the lake, then have a little picnic.

Emma had just gotten to know Patrick and she was already imagining them having a child, and family days in the countryside. How ahead of herself could she get? She knew she shouldn’t blame herself for the thoughts that made her feel happy, but what would Patrick think if she told him any of this? She didn’t even know if he wanted kids.

The car was packed and after breakfast she was ready to go. She decided to push thoughts of families and dressing little girls in pretty sundresses far from her mind so she put on some Iron Maiden in her car. She was singing along as loud as she could with Bruce Dickinson, then almost had to pull over for laughing with the second song on the playlist: “Bring Your Daughter... to the Slaughter.“ It seemed even the Gods of metal were on the side of starting a family, although they were taking a slightly different approach.

As the city gave way to green fields, and as the main double roads gave way to quiet country roads Emma’s mind relaxed more and more. This would be a beautiful place to raise a child but she would just deal with helping her clients, and getting to know and maybe even love Patrick first.

She parked up in the village before she got to Patrick’s lane. She went into the small shop, and took three ice-creams from the freezer, one for her, one for Patrick and one for Stan. The one for Stan had no chocolate and she knew he’d be disappointed by that. He’d get over only having a vanilla ice-cream pretty quickly, the look of his goofy slobbering face devouring the ice-cream brought a smile to Emma’s lips.

She walked up to the till, five Euros in her hand ready to pay.

“You must be Emma,” the woman said. She was young, she looked like she was in the final year of school or maybe just after starting university. Emma figured it was a summer job.

“I am.” Emma smiled.

“Patrick’s been in a foul mood since you left. He must really miss you.” Emma thought she could detect a hint of jealousy in the girl’s voice. If the young women of Ballyhane thought Patrick was a catch then Emma knew she was onto a good thing.

“I’m sure an ice-cream will cheer him up,” Emma said.

“Is the third for Stan?” She asked.

“Yeah, does he like plain vanilla?”

“That dog will eat anything, I’ve treated him twice over getting the gawks from eating so much.”

“You’ve looked after Stan?” Emma asked.

“I’ve interned with the vet for three summers. I want to work with smaller animals but it’s mostly farm animals around here.”

“You might have to move to a city,” Emma said.

“Having a choice of takeaways that deliver is my dream,” she said. “Pizza, burgers and chips, Thai, Indian, Noodles, Japanese—“

“I have wondered about that.”

“Only the Chinese delivers, we have a menu. I think they’ll go as far as Patrick’s, and a tip will get them further.”

Emma handed over the money. The ice-creams came to €3.38.

“Keep the change,” Emma said. “Put it towards a night out when you’re in college.”