Padraig, unaware of this particular inner torment, chuckles. “You’re brilliant. And loyal. And the best guitar player I’ve ever seen.”
“Now you’re lyin.’”
“Nah.” He smiles. “I wouldn’t bullshit youse.”
We sit in fragile peace for a while.
The van rattles as Mitch swerves around a pothole. Arleigh grumbles, and slumps down on the seat.
I glance at Padraig again. “You think we can do this? Keep going?”
“We don’t have a choice. We’ve given up too much to quit.”
“You still miss her?”
He looks away. “Every second.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She made her choice.” He shakes his head. “I made mine. I wouldn’t trade it if it means bein’ with you on stage every night.”
His words hit something deep. “You mean it?”
“Always.”
I squeeze my eyes shut to stave off tears. “Love you, Dar.”
“Love you, Dar.”
Outside, the sky lightens. The first gray hints of morning edge along the horizon. I watch the blur of highway signs. “You think the wee ones will be different?”
“Of course. Cillian’s twenty now, a proper uni student. Brennan’s inventin’ some software shit. Seamus still talks about medicine like he’s already a doctor.”
“Our brothers grew up without us.”
Padraig sighs. “We’ll make it up to them.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We fall into silence again.
The air in the van feels thicker. Warmed by sunlight bleeding through dirty windows. I close my eyes and let the vibration of the road hum against my spine.
When I speak again, I’m hesitant. “You think Da even remembers what happened?”
“Dunno.” He’s tentative too. “Hopefully, he remembers enough to hate himself for it.”
“Good.”
He looks at me. “Would it help if he said sorry?”
“No. It wouldn’t change what he did to me. I don’t want his apology. I wantpeace.”
“Maybe that’s what this trip is for.”
“Peace?”
