“Yeah, for sure,” she said.
Ever since that morning after his TV appearance, when they’d held on to each other in the kitchen, they’d enjoyed a truce. More than that, they were getting back to something like they used to be together before Michael left them. On good days, he could even hope they would get back to how it was in those early years.
“All right, then, see you later.” He turned to go.
“Wait!” Tricia’s outburst seemed to embarrass her, and when next she spoke, she sounded hesitant. “I’ll explain to Ivor about the swimming. He’ll understand. It’s not about when you do it, just that you do it.”
He broke out in goose bumps. “Yeah, great, thanks.”
She nodded, as if they’d settled something. “See ya.”
He moved downstairs, tapping Denis’s number on his phone. Despite what had just happened with Tricia, he felt a knot in his chest. He wanted Denis by his side today, to help him withstand what lay ahead.
*
The three traveled to Cork in Adam’s white HiAce, all wedged together on the bench seat—Adam driving, Denis in the middle, and Billy pressed against the passenger door. Behind them, piled in the stomach of the van, was a bunch of camera equipment, battery packs, various stands and reflectors, and Billy didn’t know what else. Despite the ropes and bungee cords, some of the contents shifted every time the vehicle stopped and turned corners. The sliding sounds only added to the climbing tension in the crowded space.
Ever since they’d picked up Denis, he’d remained silent and sour, brushing off Adam’s repeated attempts at conversation. The filmmaker talked about the weather, sports, film, and Billy’s “spectacular” TV appearance, but Denis wouldn’t engage. Billy’s face pulsated with embarrassment and temper. Like Denis, he also felt nervous about meeting with what remained of the Halloran family, especially so soon after the daughter’s passing, but if the Hallorans were able to go through with it, then so should they. It was all for the greater good. The Hallorans, and the woman he’d met at the Red Café, Nell Riordan, they would be the makings of the documentary.
It didn’t help Billy’s mood any, either, that he was squashed up against the passenger door and couldn’t shake the fear he would fall out. He double-checked the lock, picturing the door bursting open and the traffic plowing over him. Almost noon, his stomach punched at its lining. He wished he’d thought to bring a protein shake. He’d also forgotten to bring tiny Michael. His fretful hand repeatedly checked for the toy’s solid outline against his thigh, as though it would miraculously appear.
The stilted conversation dried up and the only voices in the van came from the radio. Billy experienced a pang for Ivor and their missed outing today to the pool. He pictured Ivor finally swimming—the boy was close, oh, so close—saw father and son glide together through the water, their arms, legs, heads, and breaths synchronized, the pool opening for them like a magic pathway. Tricia’s parting words came back. It had seemed something like forgiveness.
The news headlines crackled from the radio, three teenage boys killed last night when their car hit a wall. No indication, the newscaster intoned, of the involvement of drugs or alcohol. Billy thought of the boys’ families and the shock and horror they were going through. He felt pinpricks of guilt and shame whenever there was talk of the tragic deaths of the young, it hanging in the air that those victims would have given anything to live, while Michael, and others like him, had ended it all.
Adam again tried to draw Denis into conversation, this time asking about his beginnings in Dublin, their mother city. Denis uttered only one-word responses. Billy smoldered. Why was Denis acting so rude? He knew how much Billy needed Adam to make this documentary, a film that could save lives and memorialize Michael. Billy wanted to elbow Denis hard in the ribs and say, Answer him, can’t you?
Denis’s uncharacteristic behavior added to Billy’s growing unease about his miniature village and its inhabitants, how he seemed to be losing control of them and his fantasies there. You’re the best daddy. Billy shuddered. Denis, the best friend he’d ever known, besides Tricia, besides his children, seemed to be turning against him, too. That voice niggled, saying it knew he would ruin things with Denis. Saying he would end up alone. He shifted on the cramped seat, agitated and restless.
“Are you all right?” Adam asked.
Billy startled, not realizing he’d groaned aloud. “Just getting a little hungry.”
“Me, too,” Adam said.