Twenty-four
‘What is it with Mother?’ Liam asked Feeney. ‘You finally talked her into doin’ tests, Anna says.’
‘The lab report came back this afternoon, which is why I was late getting here. I was up to Catharmore first.’
‘And?’
‘Told her what will be no news to any of us-her liver will be her death unless she stops the drinking. She didn’t receive it well, of course.’
‘Surprise, surprise,’ said Liam. ‘What about Paddy? Does he know?’
‘He does.’ Feeney rested his fork. ‘On a more positive note, your mother tells me she wants to live.’
‘I can’t imagine why, seein’ she’s so in love with dyin’.’
Anna looked his way, then lowered her eyes. This was family night, all right.
Cynthia enjoyed such dynamics, as long as they were someone else’s. He wondered how she was getting on with dinner and the telly Anna had rolled in for the remainder of their stay. He had been sent off quite happily to the Conor table, with instructions to ‘watch what you put in your mouth.’
‘So the question,’ said Liam, ‘is will she stop th’ drinkin’?’
‘’t will be difficult, I grant you. Nausea, tremors, hallucinations-even seizures, if it comes to that. Can’t know. What we can know is’-the doctor grinned-‘she will be exceedingly irritable.’
Laughter. Seamus smiled, discreet.
‘You’re full of surprises, Feeney. So how would she go about it?’
‘There’s the treatment option at a clinic, of course, but she won’t have it, nor will Paddy agree to it. A costly and persecuting piece of business, in any case. She wants to do it at home.’
Liam forked a mouthful of ziti. ‘I don’t get it. How could she do it at home with none but Seamus to give a hand?’
‘She’ll need full-time nursing care…’
‘Of course! To be paid for with th’ pot of gold at th’ end of the rainbow.’
‘… and I would supervise.’
Liam said something in Irish. ‘Who was the bloke rolled a stone up th’ hill only to have it roll back again?’
‘Sisyphus,’ said Anna.
‘That’s you, Doc. That’ll have you comin’ and goin’.’
The rain had stopped, though it rattled yet in the downspouts. The August evening was cool, the heat from the Aga welcome.
William had been talkative before dinner but was silent now. Bella picked at the ziti, stared at the wall, unseeing. Glancing up occasionally with a certain gratitude, Seamus ate without hurry.
Bella was the elephant in the room. No one attempted to penetrate the thicket of nettles, save for William. For William, the thicket parted as the Red Sea for Moses.
‘Are ye learnin’ a tune for your Daideo now?’
‘Aye. ’t will make you laugh.’
‘We need a laugh in this world. Has it got th’ strong beat to it?’
‘For you, always th’ strong beat.’
‘You might get me dancin’, so.’
‘I’d give a packet of striped humbugs to see you dancin’.’
The platter was coming around again. His early training frowned on taking two of anything, and his diabetes demanded such a rigor. On the other hand, the ziti was outstanding and life notoriously short. He defied his upbringing, flouted his wife’s instruction-and took seconds. Anna looked pleased
‘Delizioso, Bella!’ The poker club tutorial hadn’t eluded him altogether. ‘Salute! ’
All glasses raised to the cook. ‘Salute! ’
Some flicker in her eyes-of what, he couldn’t say.
He saw Anna touch Bella’s arm; saw the girl flinch, thought again of Dooley and how he must call tonight without fail.
Liam went across the lodge to work on the unfinished room. Everyone else carried their portion of ‘afters’ into the library, where the Labs drowsed by the fire. Feeney sat with him on the sofa and swiftly devoured a serving of tiramisu.
‘I’ve asked Bella to come up and assist me in the ankle exam. Stay here if you will, I’ll be down directly with a report. You might say a prayer, Tim, for your wife’s cooperation.’
‘In what, exactly?’
‘In doing what has to be done.’
‘Which is?’
‘The pain tells me she must have an x-ray, and no quibbling.’
William poked up the fire, and there went the combing of the mustache, the placement of the cane by William’s chair, the match to the pipe. There shone the pint at their elbows and the old checkerboard in its pool of light from the lamp. He was moved by the grateful satisfaction of the two men, each a harbor for the other.
In the kitchen, he stuffed himself into the farthest corner, away from the gurgle and slosh of the dishwashers, and dialed.
‘Hey, Dad.’
‘Hey, yourself. What’s going on?’
‘Not much. Big fly problem in the barn. How about you?’
‘Not much. A lot of rain.’ He would ask and get it over with. ‘Are you still done?’
‘Look, Dad, you’re worried, I can tell. Don’t worry. There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘The two of you… both of you… mean so much.’
‘What else can I do?’
‘Don’t quit,’ he said. ‘Not yet. Hunker down. Talk. I’ll be home soon, we can talk together, the four of us.’
In the silence between them, a cow bawled in the Meadowgate barn.
‘Keep going, son. It’s too soon to quit.’ He heard the odd desperation in his voice.
‘Hey, Dad…’
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks. Thanks a lot. Gotta go.’
‘Whoa. Wait a minute. We love you, buddy.’
‘Love you back.’
He chose a book and took it to the sofa and opened it at random. He wanted to see his boy-Dooley would return to school at month’s end. He missed Barnabas, and Puny and her two sets of twins; he wanted to fill up the Mustang at Lew Boyd’s and eat a cellophane-wrapped egg salad sandwich and a pack of Fig Newtons and sit around in a plastic chair with Mule and J.C. and Percy and shoot the bull. He found he was completely over the notion of running up and down the road with Walter and Katherine; taking his chances at this inn or that, packing and unpacking. Bottom line, he was no good at vacations, and come to think of it-this was no vacation.
‘Will she be able, do ye think, Seamus?’
‘If Dr. Feeney can’t help her, nobody can. They say it’s up there with peelin’ off your own skin.’
‘God above,’ said William, ‘she’ll need a priest, for all that.’
‘Aye, but she won’t allow Father Tad to do his priestly bit in her company.’
‘I hope he’s sneakin’ it in, then, when she’s not lookin’.’ William gave a honking blow into his handkerchief. ‘Th’ oul’ heathen.’
There was the paw on his foot; the one scratch, the two. He peered down, hardly recognizing the little guy without the shoe. The pleading eyes, and again the paw on his foot; the one scratch, the two. No way was he going to search for the misbegotten shoe.
He patted the cushion where the Labs were sometimes allowed.
Pud leaped up, lay down, sighed. And here he was, three thousand miles from home and scratching another man’s dog behind the ears.
Feeney came along the stair hall and joined him on the sofa. ‘Studies say we live longer with a dog in our lives. I should get a dog.’
‘No doubt about it. How did it go?’
‘She says you must take your time, Bella’s with her. Now, then-she didn’t quibble. I’ll fetch you early Monday at eight o’clock. If I’m with you, things may get done more quickly, though granted, hardly anything gets done more quickly these days.’
‘What’s going on?’
‘She told me about the mishap in the shower. There you have it. The pain, the swelling all over again.’
‘Anything serious, do you think?’
‘I’m thinking a disruption of the ankle joint, which would be good news compared to other scenarios. She has too much history with this thing to suit me. I’ve given her another pain medication, she’ll sleep well and be fine ’til Monday. I should have cracked my bloody whip the night it happened.’