“I don't need the details.” He holds his hand up.
“It's not like that,” I say quickly.
“Sure, son. I mean, I was your age once.”
“Da, seriously. It's not.” I wait until he looks back at me, squinting into the sun behind me, and then I speak slowly. “I really do like her.”
He raises his eyebrows, high. “It's the woman I saw you with the other day?”
“Her name's Jenna.”
“Jenna. Well, she's very attractive and I dare say an older woman can have a lot of...”
“No, Da. Seriously, it’s not just sex. I feel this weird connection with her. I can't really explain it, but I think she feels the same way and...”
“Oh, Jesus, Aiden,” he says and he's either trying to laugh and failing or tryingnotto laugh and failing because the noises he makes are just strangled chuckles and stifled snorts. “What are you like? You realise you can't be saying any of this shite to your mother?”
“It's not shite, Dad, it's how I feel.” My chest tightens with the strain of trying to explain something that feels incomprehensible.
“I believe you, son. That's the thing.Ibelieve you. I don't think you're bullshitting me or that you don't have feelings for her. But it's not that simple. I mean, how old is she?”
“Thirty-seven,” I say in a quiet voice.
“Wow, you see now, that's quite a bit older.” Dad seems surprised. I also would have said Jenna looks younger, but now I feel like I don't know anything about what people should look or be like at any given age. More importantly, I don't care.
“Do I need to remind you that you're ten years older than Mum?” I ask.
“I wondered how long it would take for you to say that.” He is laughing for real now. “I shouldn't even say it's different, should I? What with her being a woman and all?”
“No, you shouldn't. I mean, I get why you would think that, but it's not different. I’m not a teenager. I'm twenty-four now and the only reason you guys know so much about my business is because I have to live at home while I pay off my debts. And then you went and dragged me on this holiday because you deemed me too irresponsible to stay home alone.”
“Oh, it’s our fault now that you shacked up with an older woman, is it?” Dad laughs louder and I know he wants me to laugh with him, but I won’t.
“By the way, twenty-four is three yearsolderthan Mum was when you met her.”
“Yes, but we didn't meet on holiday. It's really only been a couple of days, Aiden, are you sure...”
I interrupt him again, “You know me, Da, when I like someone, I like them. We have a spark. You say you remember what it's like being young. Didn't you have that spark with Mum? Didn't that all happen really quickly?”
I'm asking questions I already know the answer to. I've heard them tell this story too many times to forget it. My parents were married within six months. It was love at first sight, my mother always says when she has a glass of wine in her hand and a table full of eager listeners. Dad is always happy to sit back and watch her tell the story, a misty-eyed smile on his face.
Dad sighs, and I suspect his mind is also winding down memory lane, but then he straightens up. “But your mother didn't live in a different country. She lived three streets away from me, for Christ's sake.”
“Her living in England doesn't bother me, not at all,” I say and it's the first time I've acknowledged that to myself. Of all the things that make me wonder what the future holds for Jenna and me, the geographical distance we have to navigate is of no concern.
“So, you really want to see her again after this?” My father waves his hands around referring to the island, our holiday.
I bite the corner of my lip and think about what to reply, not because I don't know my answer but because I don't want it to be met with more challenges. I’m suddenly very, very tired and I want to go back to the resort, back to Jenna.
“We haven't talked about it, but I think I want to try. Or just stay in touch. Something.” My father is looking at me in a very measured way. “Life's too fucking short, Da.” I choke on the words, knowing I don't have to explain it further.
I don’t. He rolls his bike closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You're absolutely right, Aiden. I'll never argue with that. And I'll never stop you from wanting to be with whoever you want to be with. I promised you that once before, and I'm promising it to you again.” He smiles at me, the same warm, delighted smile Maeve has on the rare occasions she lets a natural grin shape her mouth. It's contagious and I smile back. That's when Dad's eyes sharpen. “Just go easy with your mother. Let me talk to her first.”
I nod as he squeezes his grip on me then drops his hand.
“Actually,” I say as he climbs back onto his bike. I smile when he groans. Heart-to-heart conversations are like good views for him; he gets his fill pretty quick. “Could you do it today? Like when we get back to the villa? I'd really like Jenna to join us for dinner tonight.”
Eyes snapped shut, his head falls back. “Holy fuckballs, Aiden, are you trying to give me a heart attack and your mother a brain aneurysm?”
