The Cad and the Co-Ed
Page 51
I didn’t want to, but I said, “Goodbye, Eilish,” and allowed Sean to lead me out of her apartment. I couldn’t fight the sense that I was forgetting something, leaving something critical behind.
Once we were out of the building Sean asked, “So, your place or mine?”
“Does it matter? We live in the same building.”
“Right. I keep forgetting. Then I remember you in your grandad PJs and it all comes rolling back. You’ll have to tell me where you acquire such fine bedwear, by the way.”
I shot him a funny look. Sometimes with Sean you couldn’t tell if he was serious or taking the piss.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in my kitchen, two untouched bottles of water in front of us. Will was in his room, reading some puritanical tale of history most likely.
“So, Bryan, you wanted to talk,” Sean began, arching a brow and clasping his hands together.
I rested my palms on the armchair. I was pissed with him, but at the same time I wasn’t. I couldn’t explain it. Perhaps my happiness at having met Patrick was overriding my anger at having his existence kept from me.
“Did you know I was Patrick’s father all along?” I asked.
Sean casually lifted a shoulder. “Not at first, no.”
My jaw firmed at hearing this. “When then?”
“About two years ago, the likeness became more evident, but I put it down to coincidence. After all, my twenty-five-year-old teammate wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of my innocent nineteen-year-old cousin, now would he?” There was a bite behind his words, even though they were spoken calmly, and a rush of guilt and shame flooded back. I had no right to be angry at him. I’d been a piece of shit. I deserved not to know.
I hung my head, running a hand down my face. “I was a different person then.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
“I’d never hurt her now, or Patrick.”
“That, too, I’m aware of.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been sober for almost two years.”
“Two very tentative years.” He gave me an arch glance. “Believe it or not, I do actually like you, Bryan. I knew laying your son on you while you were still recovering was a bad idea. That and it wasn’t my place to tell you. It was hers.”
Well, he had me there.
“And my duty to Eilish far outweighs my duty to you. If she wanted to keep Patrick from you forever, I would have accepted her wishes. I might not have liked them, but I’d have accepted them nonetheless.”
I blew out a breath. “Right.”
“So, are we good?”
I hesitated a moment. “Yes . . . well, no. I mean, we’re good, of course we are, but I still want to know how it all came about—”
“Isn’t that self-explanatory?” Sean interrupted with a quizzical brow.
“Not that, fuckwit. I want to know how things have been for her. How your family reacted when they found out.”
“They didn’t react well at all. Eilish was in college when she discovered she was pregnant. Panicking, she came home to tell my aunt, naïvely thinking she might be inclined to help. She was not. Aunt Cara wanted Eilish to terminate the pregnancy. When Eilish refused, Cara arranged for an adoption. When Eilish couldn’t go through with it, her mother threw her out of the house.”
Something primitive within me inwardly raged at this news. I had to force calm into my voice as I asked, “Where did she go?”
“She went to the States, nine months pregnant. She wasn’t supposed to fly, but she was too bloody stubborn to take my help. So she used her savings to cover the first six months, then worked three jobs afterward to pay for school and childcare.”
I glared at him. “You let her work three jobs?”
“Eilish doesn’t allow people to let her do anything. But, no. I was unaware that she was working for quite some time. I’d been sending her money. She wouldn’t spend it, never cashed the checks. In the end, I had to accept her wishes, but I found ways around it. Buying her gifts in the form of food and clothing, things for the baby helped.”
“When did she come back to Ireland?”
“A few months ago. Last year, in her last semester before graduation, she became very ill and lost two of her positions. Left with no other options, she reached out to me and finally asked for help. Truly, she had pneumonia and was basically on death’s door.” Sean ground his teeth as though the memory still plagued him. “I told her I would only help if she stopped working, allowed me to cover her expenses until she finished school and for the next twelve months, and moved back to Ireland once she graduated. She had no choice but to accept my terms.”
“I’m going to repay you every penny,” I cut in, but Sean swiped a hand through the air.
“Not necessary. Be there for them now, that’s all I ask.”
“Sean, I’m paying you back,” I grunted.
“Well, I won’t accept.”
“You will.”
“I will not.”
“God, you’re obstinate.”
“And you need to get off your cross. The situation is what it is and you need to set aside your guilt. Though she might be loath to admit it, Eilish is lonely. Her life revolves around that little boy, and although that is a very admirable quality in a mother, it’s no way to live a life. I think you can help her start living again.” A pause as he eyed me. “Perhaps you can help each other.”
Once we were out of the building Sean asked, “So, your place or mine?”
“Does it matter? We live in the same building.”
“Right. I keep forgetting. Then I remember you in your grandad PJs and it all comes rolling back. You’ll have to tell me where you acquire such fine bedwear, by the way.”
I shot him a funny look. Sometimes with Sean you couldn’t tell if he was serious or taking the piss.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in my kitchen, two untouched bottles of water in front of us. Will was in his room, reading some puritanical tale of history most likely.
“So, Bryan, you wanted to talk,” Sean began, arching a brow and clasping his hands together.
I rested my palms on the armchair. I was pissed with him, but at the same time I wasn’t. I couldn’t explain it. Perhaps my happiness at having met Patrick was overriding my anger at having his existence kept from me.
“Did you know I was Patrick’s father all along?” I asked.
Sean casually lifted a shoulder. “Not at first, no.”
My jaw firmed at hearing this. “When then?”
“About two years ago, the likeness became more evident, but I put it down to coincidence. After all, my twenty-five-year-old teammate wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of my innocent nineteen-year-old cousin, now would he?” There was a bite behind his words, even though they were spoken calmly, and a rush of guilt and shame flooded back. I had no right to be angry at him. I’d been a piece of shit. I deserved not to know.
I hung my head, running a hand down my face. “I was a different person then.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
“I’d never hurt her now, or Patrick.”
“That, too, I’m aware of.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been sober for almost two years.”
“Two very tentative years.” He gave me an arch glance. “Believe it or not, I do actually like you, Bryan. I knew laying your son on you while you were still recovering was a bad idea. That and it wasn’t my place to tell you. It was hers.”
Well, he had me there.
“And my duty to Eilish far outweighs my duty to you. If she wanted to keep Patrick from you forever, I would have accepted her wishes. I might not have liked them, but I’d have accepted them nonetheless.”
I blew out a breath. “Right.”
“So, are we good?”
I hesitated a moment. “Yes . . . well, no. I mean, we’re good, of course we are, but I still want to know how it all came about—”
“Isn’t that self-explanatory?” Sean interrupted with a quizzical brow.
“Not that, fuckwit. I want to know how things have been for her. How your family reacted when they found out.”
“They didn’t react well at all. Eilish was in college when she discovered she was pregnant. Panicking, she came home to tell my aunt, naïvely thinking she might be inclined to help. She was not. Aunt Cara wanted Eilish to terminate the pregnancy. When Eilish refused, Cara arranged for an adoption. When Eilish couldn’t go through with it, her mother threw her out of the house.”
Something primitive within me inwardly raged at this news. I had to force calm into my voice as I asked, “Where did she go?”
“She went to the States, nine months pregnant. She wasn’t supposed to fly, but she was too bloody stubborn to take my help. So she used her savings to cover the first six months, then worked three jobs afterward to pay for school and childcare.”
I glared at him. “You let her work three jobs?”
“Eilish doesn’t allow people to let her do anything. But, no. I was unaware that she was working for quite some time. I’d been sending her money. She wouldn’t spend it, never cashed the checks. In the end, I had to accept her wishes, but I found ways around it. Buying her gifts in the form of food and clothing, things for the baby helped.”
“When did she come back to Ireland?”
“A few months ago. Last year, in her last semester before graduation, she became very ill and lost two of her positions. Left with no other options, she reached out to me and finally asked for help. Truly, she had pneumonia and was basically on death’s door.” Sean ground his teeth as though the memory still plagued him. “I told her I would only help if she stopped working, allowed me to cover her expenses until she finished school and for the next twelve months, and moved back to Ireland once she graduated. She had no choice but to accept my terms.”
“I’m going to repay you every penny,” I cut in, but Sean swiped a hand through the air.
“Not necessary. Be there for them now, that’s all I ask.”
“Sean, I’m paying you back,” I grunted.
“Well, I won’t accept.”
“You will.”
“I will not.”
“God, you’re obstinate.”
“And you need to get off your cross. The situation is what it is and you need to set aside your guilt. Though she might be loath to admit it, Eilish is lonely. Her life revolves around that little boy, and although that is a very admirable quality in a mother, it’s no way to live a life. I think you can help her start living again.” A pause as he eyed me. “Perhaps you can help each other.”
