“Evan, what happened?”
“I was teaching Ryan a lesson in the garden.”
“You wish!” Ryan appears too, in more or less the same condition as Evan. “We were just throwing a few balls.”
“I can see,” Chris says, letting her eyes slide over Ryan’s abs. I have to admit, I threw a few glances at them, too. Well, more than a few. Jesus, how could Inot?
Ryan’s aged a little too well. I don’t remember him being like this – I had no idea about all those muscles, those veins… I suddenly tear my gaze away as soon as I realise that my thoughts could have me drooling in the middle of the O’Connors’ living room. Besides, it’s not nice to stare at someone else’s boyfriend: especially when Chris seems ready to claw out the eyes of anyone who even glances at him. But Ryan is…Jesus Christ, he’s made of marble.
“And Evan, nice try.”
“But when we’re home alone, me and Ryan always have a beer together.”
“What?” Chris shoots daggers at Ryan.
“He told me his dad lets him drink too!”
“And youbelievedhim? He’s seventeen, Ryan, he’d sell his own mother to get what he wanted.”
“Come on, I’d never sell you. Dad, on the other hand…”
I bust out laughing at this unlikely, surreal scene. It’s strange to see Chris and Evan in the O’Connors’ house, knowing that Ryan lives with them, bringing up Martin’s son… I’ve known Chris and Evan for a few years, back when I started working in the hospital. Chris is incredible: she’s funny and spontaneous, and you can’t help but love her. Evan was just a kid, but now he’s growing into a man. He’s a good-looking guy, and I’m sure he’s already broken a few hearts. Well, I guess it’s no surprise: Chris is beautiful, and Martin’s drop-dead gorgeous.
“Here we go,” Mrs O’Connor comes back into the living room carrying my cup of tea, stopping the argument in its tracks. Chris gestures to Ryan and Evan that their discussion isn’t over, but neither of them seem too concerned.
“Where’s Mr O’Connor?” I ask, realising he’s not in the room.
“He’s out in the garden getting some sun. I’ve told him you’re here, he’ll come and join us in a minute.”
It’ll do him a world of good being outside in the fresh air, and there’s no reason to hurry our appointment along.
“Let’s all go through to the garden,” Chris says. “It’d be a shame to waste the sun, standing inside like this.”
“Why not,” agrees Mrs O’Connor. “Unless you have plans later, Casey?”
“I’m free all evening, it’s no problem.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Mrs O’Connor seems overly enthusiastic at the idea of a twenty-seven-year-old woman with a surgeon boyfriend who has nothing to do on a Sunday evening.
We go through to the back garden, where a little table and some chairs are sitting on the patio. We sit down as Ryan and Evan go back to playing – or, should I say, wrestling – on the lawn, a few metres from Mr O’Connor, who seems quite content to just be outside with his family.
I watch them, amused, as I lose myself in Chris and Karen’s conversation about the baby, about Evan’s exams, about the café. The two of them are so close, so united: just as it should be in a family.
And I find myself feeling strangely bitter about something that could also have been part ofmylife; but it was always only a dream, stupid and immature. I burned that dream a long time ago, along with all my memories, my emotions, my tears. Along with my heart, the same day that Nick walked away from me without ever looking back.
21
Nick
When Mum opens the door, I storm past her wordlessly and look around, worried.
“What’s happened?”
“What’s up, honey?” Mum closes the door and looks at me, her head tilted.
“What was the emergency? Is Dad okay?”
“Your dad’s in the garden.”
