Part 10 (2/2)
She sat by the stream and threw stones in the water, enjoying the look of them sinking in the clear. Maybe I am young for my age, she thought. She imagined how nice it would be sitting there with Maggie throwing stones and twigs into the water. Then she worried that Maggie wouldn't like the wet weather, and would fuss about having to wear her raincoat all the time. She'd take her to Gort and get her a new raincoat. Your Irish raincoat, they'd call it. It would be something to show her friends back home. Kathleen wondered if she wore a raincoat when she was a child. She couldn't remember, but she couldn't remember having been wet. It would be great when Kevin and Maggie came here next week. In two days, the girls would be gone and she'd have three days with her parents. She looked forward to that.
She could hear the girls giggling when limmy stopped the car. The sun was s.h.i.+ning, it was beginning to be warm; they'd driven with the windows open. limmy looked pleased with himself, and the girls looked more like themselves, laughing and teasing like she was used to.
Kathleen and her mother watched out the kitchen window.
”Mother of G.o.d, they've bought enough food to feed an army,” Kathleen's mother said. ”How many do they think they're feeding and what size do they think my kitchen is? Where am I going to put all the stuff?”
Kathleen felt worried about the size of the refrigerator. It hardly came to her waist; it was less than a quarter as big as her fridge in New York. There was no way the girls would understand that.
But they were in their best moods, and showed Kathleen and her mother out of the kitchen. ”The Irish are banished. Italians rule,” Marty said, holding two cans of tomatoes over her head. ”Kathleen, would you believe, we had to go three places for parsley. Apparently they think it's a gourmet item here.”
”Yes, they would so,” Kathleen said, realizing she never used ”so” at the end of the sentence like that when she was in New York.
She wanted to go for a walk with her mother, but her mother was jittery about strangers in her kitchen.
”They work in a kitchen, Mam,” Kathleen said. ”They're professionals.”
”But they don't know our ways. I'm not fond of their saying the Irish are banished.”
”It's their sense of humor.”
”Funny kind of joke. More like an insult to me.”
”They wouldn't have meant it that way, Mam. They'd be mortified if they thought they'd insulted you.”
”Aren't there any nice Irish girls in New York for you to be friends with?”
”They are Irish, Mam. All of them have Irish blood.”
”Funny they didn't mention it. You think Maggie's all right without you?”
”She's fine. Kevin's with her. They're having a ball, they'll be here in three days.”
”I'd never have left you at three years old.”
”Do you think I'd have done it if I thought it was bad for her?”
”Don't you be talking to me like that. D'ye think I'm one of those Americans? Getting tanned and playing tennis at my age? The sky's the limit with that lot.”
Kathleen didn't know exactly what her mother was talking about. They walked along in silence. Kathleen asked her mother if she wanted to go to the movies.
”See a fill-um in the middle of the day with the sun cracking the pavestones?”
”l.u.s.t for a change, Mam.”
”All right then, for a change.” Kathleen knew her mother agreed because she didn't want to fight and couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't start a fight. They drove into Gort. It was an English movie. People said it was supposed to be funny. She didn't think her mother would like it, but she hoped it would take her mind off what was going on in her kitchen. But she didn't like it, and she said, ”I guess you have a different sense of humor if you're from a different place.”
She dropped her mother at Brid's and said she'd go home to set the table. She was walking in the gra.s.s at the back of the house; she could hear the girls through the kitchen window.
”I've been in trailers that had bigger kitchens than this,” Joanne said.
”I knew it was simple, but this is depressing as h.e.l.l. The poor baby. No wonder she couldn't wait to get out,” Marty said. ”I mean that shower. I think it was made of Styrofoam, and if that's their idea of hot water.”
”They're very nice, though,” Lois said.
”I like that Brid. She's got gumption. More than her husband with his big blue eyes,” said Marty.
”We ought to get something for them, to thank her. Brid, I mean.”
”Do you think there are really stores that we could go to that sell stuff that's tacky enough? That lamp made out of fake sh.e.l.ls. And the fabric on the sofa. I thought I was going to die it was so itchy.”
”I don't think we have the right to complain. We're staying there for free, so we have to be nice about things.”
Kathleen felt terror in the middle of her chest, as if she'd been stung below one of her ribs. They thought Brid was letting them stay for free. Where had they gotten that idea? She was sure she'd never said that. Should she have told them right away what the cost would be? She'd hoped she'd be able to work that out with Brid, that Brid would give them a break. But she'd never dreamed of asking Brid not to charge them.
She'd have to make up the money. She couldn't imagine how she'd do it. She thought of telling them they'd have to pay. But their faces when she told them were a horrifying prospect. Anything would have to be better than that.
She'd have to call Kevin. She tried to make herself walk slowly to Brid's house and say calmly that she'd told Kevin she'd call at this time, but that she'd reverse the charges, like it was normal she was doing it from here instead of her parents'.
”Fine then,” Brid said. She was standing behind the counter at the convenience store, being oh so pleasant to an American couple who were buying candy and soft drinks.
”Isn't it great for you the weather broke?” she said, smiling. Kathleen saw she'd spent a fortune at the dentist.
”Oh, we didn't come to Ireland for the weather, or the food. It's the spirit of the people,” the woman said. She was wearing a turquoise running suit and her husband had an identical one in teal. They both wore immaculate white sneakers. Trainers, they were called in Ireland, Kathleen remembered.
When she heard Kevin's voice she burst into tears.
”I suppose I could tell them they have to pay for it, but, oh, Kevin, the thought of it kills me.”
”No, no, I understand,” he said.
”Only, how will I get the money?”
”Not a problem. Put it on the Visa. Tell Brid the girls gave you a certain sum of money and you deposited it in your bank in America.”
”Brid would never believe me. She'd know something was up. I'd never hear the end of it. Isn't there anything else? Couldn't we borrow money off the Visa?”
”Go see Martin Cunningham in the Ennis bank. Tell him you need five hundred pounds off the Visa.”
”What'll he think I need it for? He'll think I need to go to England for an abortion.”
”He'll think no such thing, Kathleen. Besides, what do you care what he thinks?”
”He'd have it all over town.”
”Of course he won't, he's a professional. Don't make it a problem, baby.”
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