Breakaway (33 page)

Erin looked at Sandra as Esa left the pub. Rather than looking horrified, Sandra actually looked tickled.

“Sorry about that,” Jake muttered.

“Yeah, me, too,” said Rory angrily. “He’s one of my mates, Jake. There was no reason for you to be a
total
dick to him. You’re gonna apologize to him at the farm tomorrow, yeah?” Jake was silent.
“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll apologize.” He looked at Sandra. “You look very pretty tonight,” he said quietly. And that was all it took.

My head’s gonna explode.

It was early the next morning. Erin had promised herself that no matter how hungover she was, or how late the hour, she would stick to the new schedule she’d set for herself and get up at seven to study. She’d grown used to studying in the evening, but morning was when she was at her most alert.

She was tempted to ignore the alarm when it went off, but she didn’t. She wasn’t hungover so much as exhausted. She quickly padded downstairs to make tea. The house was quiet. Liam and Esa were still asleep. Aislinn had been working for at least two hours now. Erin silenced the tea kettle before it had a chance to scream, then crept back upstairs to her room with her cuppa. She checked her phone; no messages from her mother.

The estrangement hurt more every day, though Erin hated to admit it. It made her feel like her mother held all the power. But Erin was determined not to bend.

Two hours had passed with her glued to her laptop, answering mock exam questions like, “Which female artist
painted Marie Antoinette’s portraits?” She much preferred working on practice essays in her specialty area, modern art. Those were a joy to write. The closer it drew to the days of her exams, the more doubtful she grew. What if this really was a stupid field to have picked? What if she never got a job?

Her half-finished cup of tea had gone stone-cold, and she wanted to make a new one. She opened her bedroom door at precisely the moment Esa Saari opened his.

“Hello,” Erin said politely. The evening had ended oddly: Jake driving Sandra home, Rory driving her home, even though both houses were within walking distance of the Oak.

“Hello,” Esa returned courteously. “I was going down to make myself some breakfast. Would you like to join me?”

“Sure.” What Erin wanted to say was that she really needed to get back to studying, which was true. But then she thought:
this could be a good opportunity for him to get to know me as myself, not just Rory’s fiancée
. She just wished she were wearing something a little more attractive than yoga pants and a sweatshirt.

Esa quietly followed her down the stairs. Once in the kitchen, Erin could hear the sound of Aislinn herding her flock nearby.

“I can’t believe Aislinn is already out there,” said Esa. Erin noticed he didn’t mention Jake being out there as well.

“Farmer’s hours,” Erin replied.

“My maternal grandfather was a farmer. Reindeer.”

“Reindeer,” Erin mused. “I never really thought about them actually being raised somewhere.” She had a disturbing thought. “Do you eat them?”

Esa looked amused. “Yes.”

“All right, let’s change the subject. I don’t want to think about someone tucking into Rudolph.”

Esa gestured at the fridge. “Is it all right if I just—”

“Of course. I’m sure Liam and Aislinn told you to take what you’d like.”

“They did. I just wanted to make sure they weren’t just being polite.”

“No, Aislinn would have let you know if you couldn’t help yourself to anything in the fridge, believe me. I’m making myself some tea,” Erin told him, turning on the kitchen tap. “Would you like a cup?”

“Actually, not to be a pain in the ass, but do they have any coffee?”

“Oh, loads. Liam prefers coffee to tea.” She pointed to the coffeemaker. “Coffee and filters are in the cabinet above.”

“Thank you.”

The atmosphere felt a bit awkward. Erin found it mildly disconcerting, but she assumed it would pass once they actually sat down over breakfast.

Esa opened the fridge, peering inside. “Hmmm. Eggs. Also some apples, some muffins…” He turned around to look at her. “If I make eggs, will you have some?”

“Sure. And I’ll have a muffin, too. With lashes of butter.” She wasn’t about to squash down her appetite because he was used to bone-thin models.

Esa nodded, pulling out ingredients. “First, I have to make the coffee. If you don’t mind.”

“Esa, look. You don’t have to be so deferential. I thought we got past formalities last night.”

Esa ran his hand through his hair, looking apologetic. “I know, but I feel like an intruder. I didn’t mean to cause problems last night.”

“Jake was the problem, not you.”

“I thought: harmless flirting.”

“Well, Sandra did, too.”

“It was fun. She’s a good-looking woman, and she seemed to be enjoying it.”

“Jake will be apologizing sometime today, I guarantee it. He realizes he went a bit mad.”

“I hope so. I’d hate to have to snap his neck. It would make things very awkward between me and Rory.”

Are all hockey players arrogant?
Erin wondered. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He wasn’t smiling, which meant he had to be serious. So macho, so early in the morning. Rory was probably the same way.

Despite his confidence, however, Esa was going about making the coffee all wrong. If anything happened to the coffeemaker, Liam would go mental. Erin had no choice but to intervene.

“No so much coffee,” she called over to him. “The carafe can’t hold it. You put that much in for a carafe that size, and you’ll be drinking mud.”

Esa peered at the coffee basket. “You’re right.” He scooped some coffee back into the airtight storage container. “Rory seems very happy,” he noted, sitting down at the table.

Erin was thrilled. “Does he?”

“Yeah. He’s been a miserable bastard the past year. Now I see why.”

Erin blushed, and then she fished. “Rory really didn’t get serious with anyone while we were split up?”

“He wasn’t a saint, Erin. But he wasn’t a dog, either.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Esa looked at her curiously. “What if he had been? Would you still have taken him back?”

“I think so. But I honestly don’t know.”

“It’s hard to believe he didn’t grow up playing hockey. He’s a very talented athlete.”

“I’ve never seen him play.”

Esa looked shocked. “What?”

“I’ve never seen him play hockey. In person, I mean.”

“You’ll love it. I’m better than he is, of course,” Esa said, “but he’s pretty good. He’s been a real asset to the team.”

The coffeemaker hissed its completion. “Tell me about you, Erin,” said Esa, pouring himself a cup.

She suddenly felt shy. “I’m sure Rory has told you loads of things.”

“He has, but I’d like to get to know you myself.” He brought his coffee to the table. “For example: Rory says you’re getting a degree in art history?”

“Yeah.” Another blush made an appearance. “Probably crazy, I know.”

“No more crazy than trying to make it as a professional athlete,” Esa pointed out with a smile.

“I suppose.”

“I envy you, going to university. Maybe I’ll go when I retire. I don’t know. There are lots of subjects I’m curious about, but I don’t have the time right now because I’m pursuing other things.”

Erin ventured a tease. “Like models and parties?”

“Ah, my reputation precedes me,” replied Esa with a boyish grin.

“It does.”

“I like having fun. Who doesn’t? But I won’t do that forever.” He took a big sip of coffee. “One day I’ll meet the right person and surprise everyone by turning into a mature, responsible adult. But until then, I’ll have a good time.”

“Good for you,” said Erin. She liked Esa. She got the sense that for whatever reason, he didn’t want people to know he had any emotional depth.

“And you?” Esa inquired. “Are you having a good time?”

The question took her aback. She had to think about it. “Not in the sense you are, larking about and all that. But I’m having a good time in that I’m back with the man I love, and hopefully, I’ll eventually be doing the thing I love. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Don’t tell Rory I said this, but he’s very lucky to have you.”

“Yes, I know.” They both laughed.

“I look forward to getting to know you better, Erin, when we’re all in America.”

“Me, too, Esa.”

“Now let me make you some eggs, Finnish style. But I promise: no reindeer sausage.”

“Still being a stubborn old bat.”

Erin and Sandra, who had baby Gina on her lap, were sitting in the field behind Saint Columba’s school, the one that served as the playground when school was in session. Oona was jumping rope with three friends on the small strip of blacktop running beneath the classroom windows. LJ was at a friend’s house. Lucy was earning a few bob helping San’s mother clean her house.

Despite her better judgment, Erin had asked Sandra if her mother had mentioned her at all. She thought: she had to have, even if it was just to casually ask Sandra if she was okay. But she hadn’t.

Sandra adjusted the straw hat on her head. She told Erin that she’d just read an article on the damage direct sunshine could do to your face, the way it could age you. She didn’t want to wind up looking like a shar-pei when she was old.

“Look,” she continued, “I can tell she’s dyin’ to ask about you. She’ll say, ‘Sandra,’ and then she’ll pause and say, ‘Nothing. Forget it,’ and walk away. I think it’s killin’ her, this rift. Same as it’s killing you.”

“It’s not killing me!” Erin protested.

“Oh, give over. How long have I known you? Differences or not, you love her to death.”

“It’s not killing me; it’s hurting me, more than I thought it would. Is she really willing to let me go off to America without mending things?”

“Have you talked to your da?”

“Yeah, on the sly. You’d think we were having an affair, he’s so tense on the phone. Even though he usually rings from work.”

“What does he say?”

“Same as you, but nicer. That she’s stubborn, she’s always been stubborn, and I should know that. Honestly, sometimes I don’t know how he’s stuck it for this long.”

“Love, maybe?”