Are You Ready? (13 page)

‘Kilkenny? But where will I get my hair done that morning? And what about your fake tan and all? Will they be as good as Blue Eriu on South William Street? I only ever get my beauty stuff done there. I wouldn't
trust anyone else,' one of the girls informed Ali.

Ali was in shock as the girls all started asking a million questions about how a ‘Kilkenny farm wedding' would work. It was at times like these that she did feel isolated from her slightly spoilt South Dublin friends, and wonder if she should move home and sink back into her country girl routine. She was very glad when Laura suddenly arrived, and with a cocktail in each hand began a rant about Ben, men, and Thai restaurants. It was good to get the focus off weddings and Kilkenny, thought Ali, as she ordered more wine.

Ben had gotten a huge shock when he had arrived at the hospital earlier. His mum, normally so loud, chatty and full of life, was totally still, stunned. She looked like she had aged ten years. She appeared frail as she talked to the doctor, but when she saw Ben walk through the doors of the emergency room, she just crumpled. Ben had to run to catch her. She broke down in sobs.

‘I can't live without him, Ben. If he doesn't survive I'll not survive. I'm devoted to him, I'll not be able to live.'

Ben didn't know what to say, he felt the same. He took his dad for granted, but the sudden thought of not seeing his cheerful face ever again made Ben almost throw up.

‘Where is he?' is all Ben could finally say.

The nurse showed him through to his dad's room. Joe was still unconscious and hooked up to monitors, drips and machines. That is not my dad, Ben thought, it can't be. My dad is strong and tall like me, plays golf
almost every day, and has a permanent tan from the wind on the golf course. This man was so frail-looking he barely took up any space on the bed. His face was white as a ghost, his lips almost blue.

‘How can this be? Why did it happen?' Ben cried out.

His mum choked up. ‘I came in the door from grocery shopping and saw him lying right in the middle of the lawn, with the lawnmower still on beside him. He was totally still. I thought he was dead. The silly old fool was trying to cut the grass for our party. I don't care if we never cut the grass again, if it means even one more day with him. He should never have gone near that blasted lawnmower.'

Ben felt sick. He knew what his mum was not saying, what she was trying not to say as she looked at him. It was all his fault. She had asked him to cut the grass. It's all my fault, my stupid lazy fault, he thought. And with that tears rolled down Ben's face.

Ben and Maura never left Joe's side all through that night. His vital signs never changed, but it did not matter, they held his hand and hoped and prayed that God would save him.

‘He means too much to people here to go anywhere yet,' Maura whispered, as if to God himself.

‘Ben, what will I do if anything happens?' Maura asked the same question over and over again. Ben had no answer. What could he say?

The nurses and doctors came in to check on Joe regularly. Eventually, when the cardiologist came back in, Ben took him aside.

‘What can I do? I'll do anything for him, doctor. Anything to help save my dad.'

‘I'm sorry, but there is nothing you can do for now. He has suffered a major heart-attack and we need to do more tests to see if we need to operate. We'll know more in the morning,' and with that the doctor was gone.

Ben felt like everything was moving in slow motion.
Nurses walked by him chatting, going about their daily lives, but Ben felt as though he was walking in quicksand, nothing was working. He couldn't get his brain to think, he was in too much shock. Everything had been turned upside down.

Maura O'Connor was in total shock, too. Her husband lay totally still in a metal hospital bed, in a crammed room, in a cold hospital. This was not right. This can't be happening, she kept telling herself. How can it be that one minute your life is perfect, you have a great husband, great house, great friends, a comfortable life, and next minute everything is wrong? Joe was her life, he was her soulmate and best friend. He knew her better than she knew herself. She had known from the day she met him that she would marry him. He was always so kind, caring, and gentle, and she had known he was the one for her. All those years of marriage and happy times seemed to have flown by, and now was this how it ended?

By Sunday evening Ben knew his mum needed to sleep and take a break.

‘Why don't you go home for a few hours, Mum, and I'll keep vigil here? I'll ring you if anything happens.'

‘No way. I'm not leaving your dad. Over my dead body. I would not forgive myself if anything happened while I was gone.'

Ben knew one of them needed to go home to get some clothes for them both, and some of Joe's things in case he woke up, so he decided to rush home himself.
He promised to bring back clothes, food and his dad's favourite slippers.

After a quick talk to the nurse, asking her to ring him if anything happened, he jumped into a taxi and headed home. The house was cold, and felt so empty when he walked in. How could they live here if anything happened to Joe? His dad made this house a home. Honey was asleep in the kitchen, but jumped up with great excitement to see him.

‘You just want food, isn't it?' Ben almost laughed.

Their neighbour had left food out for Honey but it was long gone now. Ben let the Labrador out into the garden as he opened a fresh can of dog food. Mango awoke as well, and Ben cleaned out his cage and left more seeds in it for him.

The kitchen table was covered in groceries from when his mum had been shopping the day before. Their neighbour had kindly put anything that could spoil away in the fridge, but the breads, pastas, and his dad's favourite biscuits lay out. Ben took out a bag, and placed the biscuits in it. He started to make some sandwiches, too – his mum could do with them, as the hospital food was like plastic. He packed up a mini-picnic, and set it down by the front door, while he went upstairs to shower quickly and change his clothes. His ticket stub to the rugby match fell out of his pocket. The match seemed like months ago, Ben thought, a lifetime ago.

After changing, he went into his parents' room to get some clothes. His mum had asked for her tracksuit and some warm jumpers. He also packed her perfume
and some make-up: he knew she liked to look nice, even under stress. He grabbed a book that was by her bedside and flung that in too. You never know how long we'll be in the hospital, he thought. He approached his dad's wardrobe with apprehension: he was nervous, it felt wrong going through his things while he lay almost dead miles away. The smell hit him, it was his dad's smell. It reminded him of hugging his dad when he was younger, of running into his arms when he had fallen or was upset. When was the last time I hugged him properly? he wondered. The last time I told him I loved him? As he packed up Joe's clothes and slippers, an old photo frame caught his eye. Ben was about seven years old, and his team had just won their mini-rugby cup, and Ben was sitting on Joe's shoulders, raised high with the cup swinging around, but he had one arm wrapped tightly around his dad's neck, as he still needed his dad for protection and security. His dad's arms were clasped firmly on Ben's legs, and Joe's smile was bigger than anyone's, he was so proud. Ben choked up.

‘Have I ever made you proud since then?' Ben said out loud to an empty house. ‘Ever let you know I still need your protection?

‘It is my turn to protect you now,' Ben said to the photo, as Joe's face smiled back at him.

As he called Honey back into the kitchen, he saw the lawnmower lying sideways on the grass. Ben ran up to it and kicked it with the anger that had built up since his dad's heart-attack.

‘You bastard,' he shouted at the machine. Honey
joined in, and barked at the machine, and before he knew it Mango was squawking, too. The three of them stayed like that for quite some time, howling at whoever would listen.

Molly tried to go home every weekend for a Sunday roast with her family. Tonight her mum was making a rhubarb crumble for dessert and Molly was helping her. Her mum was still the best cook she knew.

‘Now, if you want to make this gluten-free I can show you. It's handy to know how to do it.'

Molly loved it that her mum knew so much about cooking, yet took it all in her stride. It was like she had been born with the gift. Molly never remembered them ever being given a bad meal or a burnt cake or biscuit. Their food was always perfect and yum!

As Molly stewed the rhubarb she mentioned to her mum that she was thinking of taking up a new baking class that was taking place in Temple Bar every Monday for the next eight weeks.

‘The only problem is that myself and Luke had said we might take up scuba-diving lessons, so we would be prepared for our summer holiday in Greece. Luke has great plans for many scuba holidays. I don't mind once we work our way up to somewhere like the
Caribbean! But I'm worried he might be upset if I cancel that course to do the baking one.'

Molly's mum put down her baking dish.

‘Molly, you are only young once, and have to do what makes you happy, and not regret anything. Cooking is your passion, and your job now, and I think the course would not only give you more confidence but would be very helpful for the café, and for yourself, what with the wedding job coming up and all. I'm sure Luke will understand if you explain it properly.'

Molly didn't know that he would, but she didn't want to upset her mum, so she just nodded and patted the crumble.

Dinner at home was so relaxing, and Molly always felt so warm and safe with the Aga cooker in the background and her mum preparing food. Their kitchen was like an old country kitchen, with not only the Aga, but a large dresser, filled with a collection of painted delft. Cookery books fell out of every shelf, and there was a permanent smell of baking no matter what time of the day you walked into this heart of their home. Molly loved the old picture on the dresser, too, showing her at about six years old, covered in flour as she helped her mum make a Christmas cake. She was standing on a chair, leaning up against their island unit in order to reach the mixing bowl, her mum smiling into the camera, proud of her budding chef daughter.

Molly's brother was home also, and it was good to catch up with him.

‘Getting that wedding job is great news, little sister.
Maybe you will be able to set up your own business soon. Don't forget, you can hire me as your business director, and get me out of my boring job!'

Molly promised she would, but told him not to hold his breath, that was a few years off yet. As her mum dropped her home that night, she kissed Molly.

‘Don't let your holiday plans ruin your cooking dreams and your job. We all love you, Luke loves you, he will understand. I love you, Molly, thanks for your help tonight.' And with that her mum was gone and Molly walked back to her very modern apartment, and into a kitchen that could have been a million miles from the one she had just left.

Luke was not a bit happy when Molly told him she was cancelling her scuba-diving course. They'd been fighting so much recently that she sensed he didn't want to make a big deal out of it; he just sulked around for the evening, and didn't mention it again. The next day at work, Molly's aunt was delighted to hear she was doing the baking course.

‘It will help inspire you, pet, and we could do with a few new recipes here.'

Molly was in great form, thrilled about starting her new training. Her excitement lasted all day, and when she went to take her usual sandwich delivery to Sterling Bank, she decided to throw in some of her honeymen biscuits for free, anything to spice up those men's taste buds! Scott Williams was deep in conversation on the phone when she walked through the door, but he stopped abruptly as she approached. He smiled when she handed him his sandwich.

‘And as a treat, I've one of these for you,' she said,
giving him the little honeyman. ‘Compliments of Heavenly.'

Scott looked at the biscuit man. ‘Isn't he the lucky man to be spending time with such a lovely cook!' And with that he turned back to his phone and started to unwrap his sandwich.

Weirdo, thought Molly, as she walked through the office handing out the rest of the sandwiches. But when she got back to the café her aunt said there was a message from Sterling Bank saying they would like to order a hundred honeymen for a staff-training exercise the next day. Maybe Scott Williams wasn't so bad, after all.

Sarah's mum had been driving her mad with questions about Hugh Hyland. Ever since he had dropped her home on Sunday morning, after she had stayed at his place the night before, Sarah's mum had been saying how polite and nice he was, and wasn't Galway a fabulous city! And when she had heard that he was a big art collector, Sarah had thought her mum would faint.

‘He is perfect, Sarah, and it is such a romantic story that you met in the gallery,' her mum exclaimed. Sarah knew it was a great story, but didn't want to jinx the relationship yet by predicting what might happen in the future.

‘Let's just take it slow, Mum. People don't just rush into things nowadays.'

‘I know, isn't that the problem, though? You all have too many options, and think there will be something better around the corner, when really you are missing out on what is in front of you. Don't let that happen
to you, pet,' her mum said, as they got in the car to go and visit Mel and the new baby.

It was at times like these that Sarah wished she had enough money to buy her own place, just to have more privacy. She loved her mother, but made a mental note to go some time soon to see a mortgage broker that worked near her. It might be worth finding out what property she could afford.

When Sarah and her mum arrived at Mel's place it was bedlam. There were dirty and wet clothes everywhere, dirty dishes piled high in the sink, and Mel looked like she hadn't washed her hair in weeks.