‘Where have you been, I was worried sick?’ I find myself speaking with concern and smoothing Tom’s ruffled hair instead of shouting at him. His face is white, his breathing shallow. I look into his eyes, heavy with worry. And still he says nothing.
‘What’s wrong, Tom, what happened?’
He pushes past me, lifting Cian in his arms before kneeling on the ground in front of Aaron.
‘I’m sorry, boys,’ he says. ‘Daddy had to help a friend. Look at all these lovely toys.’
‘We got lots and lots and lots.’ Cian runs from Tom’s grip to gather as many presents in his hands as possible. Aaron stands watching Cian, then runs at him pushing Cian to the ground and grabbing a train from his hand. ‘Mine, mine, mine.’
‘There’s enough here for everyone, Aaron,’ I say. ‘You have to learn to share.’ Lifting Cian in my arms, I hug him tightly, kissing his forehead and sniffing his hair.
‘Say sorry to your brother, Aaron,’ I say.
Aaron turns his back on us and pushes the train along the ground. He’s a couple of inches shorter than Cian, the first to be dragged out of my womb. He’s also a lot thinner than his brother, which considering how much he eats surprises me. Aaron can finish a whole plate of dinner while Cian is still dipping his first chip into the ketchup.
‘Aaron, Aaron,’ I say, but he doesn’t answer.
‘Leave it out.’ Tom shuffles over beside Aaron. Cian wiggles from my grip to join them. They have forgiven Tom already. Somehow, I have become the bad person in the room.
Standing by the doorway, arms crossed, I watch Tom playing with the boys and wonder about the man. What is going on? Is he planning on explaining where he was or does he think I’m going to accept the silly explanation he gave the kids? If he is, he can think again.
‘Tom, can I see you outside, please?’
He acts like he doesn’t hear me, like a teenager being asked to do a chore.
‘Tom.’
‘What?’ he grunts, turning abruptly to look at me. There’s something different in his eyes. Is he trying to hide something?
‘Tom, I want to talk to you.’
‘I’m playing with the boys, Sally. Can’t it wait until they go to bed?’
‘I guess it can… Right, boys… time for bed.’
With Cian and Aaron fast asleep, Tom then decides to take a shower. Anything to delay his big confession. I’m sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, drinking a glass of leftover wine from the party when he walks in.
‘What a day,’ he says attempting to lighten the seriousness of his absence. I don’t engage. ‘How did the party go?’
Lifting a glass to my mouth, I stare at him without answering.
‘Look, Sally, I’m really sorry, I tried to get here, I promise, but things just went from bad to worse.’
‘I’m all ears,’ I say, showing little empathy.
‘Eamon called, his car broke down. I went to pick him up and bring him to the golf club. I would have been back in time. But…’ Pushing his hand through wet hair, Tom sighs. He turns his head away from me and wipes his eyes. Shit. Is he going to cry?
‘What happened, Tom?’ Moving off the stool to the other side of the kitchen island I notice he is shaking.
‘I hit someone with the car.’
‘You what?’
‘Someone on a bike.’ Tom sees the alarm on my face. ‘Look, they’re fine… it’s nothing serious… they got discharged from the hospital… but—’
‘But what, Tom?’
‘The police took me to the station and breathalyzed me, it took them forever. Right bastards. I told them it was my kids’ birthdays but they didn’t seem to give a toss. Eventually they did the breath test, which I passed. The problem is…’ Taking a deep breath he pauses for a moment then, gripping my arms, he looks into my eyes, preparing me for something bad. ‘I went through a red light. I wasn’t concentrating, Sal, I was rushing back to the party… They have a witness.’
My heart is in my mouth. The idiot. What is going to happen?
‘You’re sure that cyclist is okay? Was it a man or a woman?’
‘The cyclist is fine, Sally, she only had a scratch on her wrist.’
‘So why did she go to the hospital if she only had a scratch on her wrist?’
Pulling away from his grip I move a few steps away.
‘I don’t know, Sal, she just did.’ He rubs his hand into his hair and sighs. I can tell he’s playing it down, no one volunteers to spend a day in A and E over a scratch. She must have needed stitches or something. And how did he hit her? In all the years I’ve known Tom he has never had an accident in the car, never even scratched it. Something was distracting him.
Tired of confrontation, I drop the subject, he’s clearly not in the humour of discussing the implications at the moment, the trouble he could be in. Jesus, I hope he doesn’t end up in jail, that’s all I’d need. I’m about to leave the room when I hear the front door opening.
‘Here’s Amber… don’t mention the accident.’ Moving to the sink I turn on the tap and try to act like everything is great. Amber opens the door and glances in at us briefly.
‘I’m heading to bed. Night.’
This day is getting weirder by the minute. Why didn’t Amber come in to us, ask her daddy where he was or what happened him? She seemed mightily concerned earlier. Sarah’s newest dilemma must be absorbing her thoughts. Still, I’m surprised. I would have thought she’d at least ask him if he was okay. I guess she presumes everything is because he’s home now.
‘That’s strange,’ I say, switching off the tap and lifting my glass.
‘What’s strange?’
‘Amber. She never asked what happened and she was very concerned earlier.’
Tom says nothing. The light from the fridge brightens his face when he opens the door. Taking a beer, he walks towards the front room asking how things went for the boys.
‘Fine, I think, I was so distracted I… Oh I forgot to tell you, my father showed up.’
Tom stops in his tracks and turns to look at me. ‘What?’
‘I know – I couldn’t believe it either.’
‘Did he say why?’
‘What do you mean, it was the boys’ birthday party?’
‘But how did he know we were having a party. Did you tell him?’
‘No, sure I haven’t heard from him for months.’ Tom turns to go into the other room. But doesn’t enter. He stops then turns his head slightly.
‘Was Amber talking to him?’
‘Yes, she seemed quite happy to see him.’
‘My mom.’
‘What about your mom?’
‘Was she talking to him?’
‘Christ, Tom, I don’t know, I don’t remember seeing them talking but the place was very busy so… she could have been… why?’
‘Just wondering.’ Taking a swig from his can of beer, he continues into the other room.
My phone beeps. It’s Ellen.
‘What do you want me to tell your mother?’ I say through the double doors.
‘Just tell her my car broke down or something.’
Well, that came easy to him. Lying to his mother. I’m not doing that. Especially when she already knows the one about the friend’s car breaking down.
I reply to the message.
I don’t know what is going on with Tom. But something definitely is. Should I go in and question him more? Ask him who he was talking to on the phone in the middle of the night. The way he is at the moment, stressed, distracted, I don’t think I’d get the truth. He’s been acting strange ever since I mentioned the photo, which worries me. Does this mean that Charlie is right? Or is something else going on? With my palm on the door handle I’m about to go in to him when Amber sticks her head over the bannisters.
‘Is everything okay, Mom?’ Her voice a whisper.
‘Yes, everything’s fine.’ I move my hand from the door and walk up the stairs. I’m not about to start arguing with Tom while Amber is still awake and listening.