Page 79 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
I find my voice. ‘When I was twenty-one, my mammy was still washing my clothes and on rainy days my dad would drop me to my job at Bridal Reflections in Donnybrook. I’d yet to go back to design college in Inchicore. And you were buying houses!’
‘I don’t want to bore you with my employment history.’
I point to the chair opposite me. ‘Bore me! I demand you to bore me. Every little detail, mister. Now, sit down.’ I pick my tea back up.
Donal pulls out the chair at the table and sits, makes a kiss with his pursed lips. ‘I like it when you’re bossy.’ He smiles. ‘It was a little one-bed cottage in Rathmines. Well, it was basicallya shell of a house. They couldn’t give it away. I knew the builder, David Hoban, who was selling it, and he liked me. Anyway, I worked with him on a housing estate in Portmarnock during the day, and I did up the cottage in the evenings and at weekends –worked around the clock. I went on YouTube and taught myself how to rewire, replumb all the things that woulda cost me a fortune otherwise. I painted the place myself, even did the roof. Decorated it with stuff from charity shops – my sisters helped, they have a great eye for bargains, we all do. Then I sold it for quite the profit.’
Donal looks for my reaction. I’m incredibly shocked. But most of all, I feel an overwhelming moment of pride.
‘That’s just amazing. Wow. What a talent you have.’ I’m so stunned I actually laugh.
‘Ah, I dunno, I think I was lucky, the property market changed. It was good timing, property was on the rise, so I kept renting my shoebox on Gardiner Street and bought another house in Harold’s Cross with the cottage profits, and the market got better and better for the areas I was able to afford. Then the recession came, but I was one of the lucky ones.’ Donal says all this with not one ounce of smug superiority.
‘Truly unbelievable,’ I tell him.
‘It is. But ya know, I work hard, like you, and I’m a firm believer in hard work paying off.’
‘As am I, but this is .?.?. this house, what you’ve achieved, it’s phenomenal.’ My eyes dart around the room.
‘Ahh listen, I need to build up my bank account again now. I’m asset rich, cash poor. I’m forty-one this year and I’ve worked seven days a week, fifteen-hour days, for as long as I can basically remember. It’s time to reap the rewards of that work. That’s the whole point, not work till I drop. And this place has been my boyhood dream,’ he tells me, and I see there is already a five o’clock shadow of stubble on his face.
I take a bite from the toast before it goes cold, wash it down with my hot tea. ‘Ha! I just realised we’ve never asked each other our ages.’
‘Oh, I assumed you were around mid-twenties? Right?’ His phone beeps on the table and he picks it up, reads a text message.
‘Smarmy.’ I take another hungry bite, chew the toast, drain my cup, as he replies to a text, then he looks up at me. ‘Thirty-three,’ I tell him as he leans over and slides his phone into the back pocket of his black jogging bottoms.
‘Do you want kids?’ He comes straight out with it.
I think before I answer. ‘I think so .?.?. But it’s not a dealbreaker, with you, I mean.’
‘Same.’ He nods.
‘But I am getting older .?.?. so, I guess I need to figure it out, fast.’
‘Weneed to figure that out.’ He rounds the wordweout, carefully.
‘I can’t believe we’re talking about kids. I’m not sure I ever believed in fate before but I do now.’ I unravel my knees from inside Donal’s old grey sweatshirt, lean fully across the table and kiss him, hard on the lips.
‘I believe in destiny, a predetermined course of events – maybe ’cause I watch so many movies – and I believed that you were out there for me, that I’d find you and that it was never going to be about looks or money, just a real sense of connection. A partnership.’
‘Thank God for Emma Stark!’ I realise with a shock. ‘If I hadn’t seen her in town that day and dropped my bags, you’d never have helped me.’
‘Everything happens for a reason, right?’ he says.
‘You know it. Did you want kids with Daniella?’
‘Yeah, I did,’ he tells me truthfully. He pours more tea fromthe silver pot, his finger holding the ill-fitting lid in place.
‘So why didn’t it happen? Ten years is a long time,’ I ask.
‘She was never ready, and I was fine with that. Look, in hindsight, she didn’t love me enough. It wasn’t her fault, and again, things happen for a reason. I’m so glad now that we didn’t have kids.’
‘Yeah,’ I agree.
‘Did you want a family with Logan?’
‘Honestly?’ I scratch my head at the question. ‘I was too busy being busy and looking after him. I think I had used up all my maternal feelings babysitting him and his ego, so I don’t know. Logan never talked about kids. When you live with somebody who you are constantly trying to keep happy, your own wants and happiness go by the wayside.’ I actually surprise myself with my answer. How had I never noticed this before? ‘We spent most of our time talking about Logan,’ I say.
