around me, hear the crying and sniffles in my room and all I can see is my father’s face in death, trying to remember how he was when he was alive, trying to remember the last time he was young and we were happy and we had a mother and everything. We used to have the world and it was only us, just family, that’s all we needed.
That’s all we really need.
But they’re gone.
My mam.
Clara.
My dad.
And now, now that black hole of grief in my chest, the place where the loss of my mother resides, it’s growing bigger, making room for him.
This time, it might swallow me whole.
21
Valerie
“You must be Valerie,” an accented voice says from behind me.
I turn around and see a tall, tanned man with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail and a physique that’s a cross between Padraig and Dwayne Johnson. He’s wearing a suit like everyone else is here, but it doesn’t seem to suit him, like he’s about to burst out of it at any moment, ala the Hulk.
“I am,” I say to him. He has a handsome face, darker skinned, and very white teeth. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’re one of Padraig’s teammates.”
“You’d be right,” he says. “My name’s Hemi. Hemi Tuatiaki.”
He holds out his hand and I give it a shake.
“Nice to meet you, Hemi. I thought there would be a lot more of his team here.” I look around the funeral. It’s not a small event. The entire town of Shambles has shown up at this cemetery overlooking the sea, but everyone is about seventy years old and no one looks like they play rugby anymore.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Padraig likes to keep to himself. I think I was the only one who really got to know his father and that wasn’t very well. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know his father very well but I really did like him.” I take in a deep breath. I’ve been crying off and on all week since Colin passed away and though I’m mourning his loss, most of my tears are for Padraig. His grief is boundless.
“Is he all right?” Hemi asks softly, nodding over at Padraig who is standing by the casket and consoling people, even though Padraig is the one who needs the most consoling.
I shake my head. “No. This would have been hard for anyone under normal circumstances but …” I trail off, not sure if I should get personal, but Hemi is his friend and he’s here. “They had a fight before he died. Things were said that are weighing on Padraig. He got to say his goodbyes to his father but his father … he passed before they could make amends.”
“Fuck,” Hemi swears. “That’s rough.”
“Where is your accent from, by the way?”
“New Zealand,” he says proudly.
“Wait a minute. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be playing for the All Blacks?” I’m kinda proud of myself for knowing the name of their rugby team.
He grins. “Ah, I did for two years and then got traded out here. Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind going back. I miss home. But I wouldn’t want to leave old Padraig here. He’d have to learn how to pull his weight, then.”
I cringe internally. Padraig hasn’t told his team yet about his diagnosis. I know this was something he’s been waiting to do and right now is definitely not the right time, but it sucks that his best friend from the team doesn’t know the truth.
“Do you know when he’s coming back to the game?” he asks hopefully.
I can only shrug and give him a quick smile. “I don’t know.”
“He doesn’t talk about it?”
“We’ve just been so focused on his father …”
He nods. “Ah, I get it.”
And it’s not a lie either. This whole last week has been misery for everyone at the B&B, trying to deal with his father’s funeral arrangements. It’s too much stress for Agnes to worry about, and Padraig has been practically comatose, so I’ve had to take it all on by myself and let me tell you, funerals are a bitch. You would think they would make the process easier for people who are steeped in grief but they try and nickel and dime you every step of the way.
Luckily Padraig has money and told me to throw whatever I could at them to make the situation easier.