Fifteen minutes later we pull up outside the three-storey mansion I grew up in. I never call it home because it never felt like one. Mam was trying so hard to make it pristine enough for Dad to want to come back to each night, it was never a place any of us could relax.
Phoebe bounds up the white steps and leans on one of the heavy round pillars flanking the glass framed double doors.
Their housekeeper, Iga, answer the door. She’s in her late thirties, slim, with long blonde hair, just the way dad likes them. Though if he’s been stupid enough to get involved with her, he’s been discreet about it, for once. ‘Ah, welcome home Mr Callaghan and Miss Phoebe.’
Phoebe charges past her into the house. ‘Where’s nanny?’
‘She’s in the dining room,’ Iga calls after her retreating back.
My father insists on having a formal dinner each evening, even though it’s just the two of them.
In the dark, wood-panelled room, my mother and father flank each end of the mahogany dining table that could sit twelve. My father rises as Phoebe bursts into the room with me on her heels.
‘Nanny!’ Phoebe launches herself onto my mother’s lap and they embrace like they haven't seen each other in weeks instead of days.
‘How’s my gorgeous girl?’ Mam rocks Phoebe on her lap and examines her face. ‘Would you guys like some dinner?’
Phoebe eyes the half-eaten medium-rare steak and steamed vegetables on the plate in front of her and shakes her head vehemently. ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘That’s because you’re full of gingerbread cookies and marshmallows from Hollybrooke.’ I pull out a chair on my mother’s end of the table, offering a curt nod at my father.
‘We had the best afternoon out with Daddy’s friend, Ava.’ Of course, Phoebe outs me at the first chance she gets.
My mother’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. ‘William, why don’t you show Phoebe the Christmas tree we put up today?’
‘Yay!’ Phoebe darts towards my father. ‘Did you put an angel or a star on the top?’ Their voices trail off down the corridor.
‘So, you’re allowing Ava to spend time with Phoebe.’ My mother lifts her napkin from her lap and dabs the corners of her mouth. ‘Things must be serious.’
‘They are, Mam. Ava is a beautiful woman, inside, and out. She’s a wonderful role model for Phoebe. She’s kind. Considerate. Consistent. She runs her own business. I think it’s amazing that a woman like her wants to spend time with a six-year-old who isn't hers. Phoebe adores her. She’s the first woman to put a smile on my face for years, honestly Mam, she makes me happy.’
Mam jerks backwards in her chair, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. ‘Well, that’s all fantastic. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, but what will happen when this thing between you runs its course?’ Concern creases her forehead.
I swallow thickly. ‘This feels different. It feels like it could be more.’
Thin fingers fly to her breastbone. She takes a mouthful of wine and places her glass back down, tracing her index finger up and down its stem. ‘I suppose I always put myself in Teagan’s shoes, as a mother. She was so young when she had Phoebe. She came here a few weeks ago pleading me to help her get you back. I thought she’d settled over time. I know she was unfaithful, but when you’re committed to someone, you work through these things.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Mam, if you love someone, you don’t repeatedly hurt them. You don’t make a fool out of them. Just because you and Dad—’
‘Enough.’ My mother raises her hand silencing me. ‘The last few years have been blissful between us.’
The only thing that’s blissful is her ignorance.
‘I’ve made no secret of my hopes for you and Teagan to work things out, for Phoebe’s sake if nothing else. A child needs stability. Marriage and relationships take work. But if you think you and Ava can offer Phoebe that stability then that’s wonderful.’
‘The right relationships don’t take nearly as much work as the wrong ones. You know how I feel about marriage. I’ve never entertained the notion in my life. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe with work – from both partners, maybe some can last.’
‘You love Ava?’ The faintest tinge of hope rings in my mother’s voice. I’d say she had pretty much written off any remote chance of her only son ever settling down.
‘It’s early days, but I’ve never felt anything like it before. I think about her all day every day. I want to be with her all the time. And when we are together it’s effortless, you know?’
She reaches across the starched white tablecloth and takes my hand. ‘You know what, son? Life is short. If Ava makes you happy, and if she truly is a good role model in Phoebe’s life, then grab it with two hands. Don’t let her slip away. True love is hard to find.’
‘Thank you.’ Now to address what I really came here to say. ‘Will you please make an effort with Ava? Make her feel welcome. It’s enough for her to take on me and Phoebe, let alone a monster-in-law as well.’
Her hand clips me across the bicep. ‘I’ll give you monster-in-law, you cheeky ratbag.’ Her eyes soften. ‘I’m truly happy for you, Cillian.’ She wrings her wrists wistfully. ‘I’m sorry your dad didn't set the best example over the years. I’m just glad you’re finally getting over everything.’
The doorbell chimes from the hallway. ‘Who’s that?’
