“Three and a half years,” I reeled off with a wince. “I know that Paul was steady, Mam, and he comes from money and has a big future ahead of him, but I was never happy with him.”
“If you want money, you can make that for yourself,” Mam replied. “You don’t need a man to do that for you.”
“I know and I completely agree,” I was quick to say. “But Casey thought I was crazy for letting him go. I mean, she’s team Joey now, but for a while there, she was seriously questioning my judgement.”
“You know as well as I do what kind of a home that Casey comes from,” Mam replied gently. “You know what her mother is like, Aoife. You’ve seen what that woman has exposed her daughter to down through the years. The kind of men she’s traipsed through their front door.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, shuddering at the memory.
“And you also know how strapped for cash they are in that little flat over in Elk’s Terrace,” Mam continued. “I can only presume that when Casey saw you throw away a boy with a solid future, for a boy with an unwritten one, she panicked on your behalf.”
“Paul was no catch of the day,” I muttered. “And we’re not exactly flush with cash ourselves, Mam.”
“We might not have money, Aoife, but we’ve always had each other,” Mam explained. “We’ve always had our family unit, and that’s a form of stability and comfort that we both know young Casey has never had.”
Or Joey.
“I’m lucky to have you, Mam.”
She arched a brow.
“What?” I laughed. “I was being sincere.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll mean that even more in six months’ time,” she chuckled. “When there’s a baby crying the house down and you’re up to your elbows in poo and vomit, screaming for your mother to come get her grandchild.” Clearly amused with herself, she added, “At least your partner in crime has experience with newborns, because you’ve never held a baby in your life.”
“I’ve held Sean.”
“Sean’s three.”
“He was only two when I first held him.”
“There’s a big difference between a two-year-old that you can hand back, and a defenseless newborn baby, depending entirely on you to meet every one of his needs.”
“Mam.”
“He or she will need you to feed them, wind them, change them, clothe them, comfort them, love them, soothe them… all of it and more. He or she will even depend on you to clear their airways with a tiny nasal aspirator, when they get a cold, because he or she won’t be able to do that for themselves. This little baby will be completely reliant on his or her mother for survival. And that’s just the newborn stage, which believe it or not, my darling girl, is the easiest stage of motherhood.”
“Please stop,” I begged, feeling dizzy at the thought. “I’m so unbelievably terrified of what’s coming, that I’m surprised I can function.”
“You can do this,” she assured me. “You are going to be a good mother.”
“I’m going to be a disaster,” I mumbled glumly. “I can barely cook French toast.”
“Because you’re a spoilt princess who’s used to having everything done for her,” Mam laughed. “But we’ll soon get you up to speed, pet. By the time my grandchild arrives, you’ll be cooking up a storm and ready to take on the world.”
“Don’t ever leave me, okay,” I strangled out. “I might be on the verge of becoming a mam, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll stop needing mine.”
“You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid,” Mam laughed with a wink. “Whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not moving out,” I warned her, holding up a shaky finger. “I’m never leaving home, Mam. I’m staying put, where there’s a veteran of motherhood in residence – and a veteran of the ironing board.”
Mam laughed again. “That’s another thing I’ll have to teach you.”
“I will never iron.”
“You won’t have a choice.”
“Yes, I will,” I shot back. “I’ll buy all non-iron clothes for the baby to wear.”
“And who, may I ask, will iron your clothes?”
I rolled my eyes. “My mother, obviously.”
“Oh, Aoife, you do make me smile,” Mam chuckled. “You’re going to be okay, love. You truly are.”
“I hope you’re right, Mam,” I replied. “I really do.”
“Joey is going to be okay, too,” she added. “You both are.” Mam gave me another one of those perceptive smiles. “Do you want to know how I know this?”
“Pray tell, sensei.”
“Because your baby’s father might be as pigheaded and stubborn as you are when it comes to admitting his feelings, but his heart has never once wandered from you, either.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t know that, Mam.”
“I do know that,” she corrected in a soft tone. “Aside from the fact that I’ve watched you both grow up, and have firsthand experience of the kinds of qualities you both possess, I also happen to possess a pair of eyes – and ears – of my own that are in perfect working order.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that when you peel back all the layers of yours and Joey’s relationship, taking the flirting, raging hormones, and the physical aspect out of the equation, there’s a rock-solid foundation underneath,” she told me. “One that’s based on friendship, and respect, and trust.” Smiling fondly, she recrossed her ankles, switching them up, and leaned forward in her seat. “He’s your friend, Aoife, and you’re his. Never mind loving one another, that’s the easy part, you and Joey like each other. You enjoy one another’s company, and I can promise you that all of those wonderful aspects of your relationship, all of those effortless conversations you find yourself having with him, or all of the content spells of silence you spend in one another’s company, will only strengthen your ability to stand the test of time. And more crucially; the test of parenthood.”
“You really think that?”
“I do,” she replied, giving me a reassuring smile. “And remember; mother knows best.”
THINK ABOUT YOUR FUTURE
JOEY
“Joey.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Joey.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Joey.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Joey!”
Releasing a pained groan, I slowly blinked awake, feeling an abnormal amount of weight pushing down on the middle of my back, as I faceplanted my mattress.
The weight continued to bounce up and down on my back, and I slowly registered the weight as my baby brother. “O-ee. O-ee.”
“Fuck, Seany-boo,” I groaned, snaking a hand out from under my head and grab a pillow. “Stop jumping on my back, kid. I’m dying here.”
Covering the back of my head with the pillow, I tried and failed to drown out the noise attacking my senses from all angles.