“You should lower your voice – someone might hear you.”
“So? Everything I’m saying is true, at least. I can’t say the same about him.”
“Maybe you should seriously consider drinking water for the rest of the evening.”
“My mother is on the board of advisors. Did you know that? And you know how she got there?”
“Would it make any difference if I told you I didn’t care?”
“My grandmother. She invested in the hospital’s research department and she was the one who got my father his job.”
Sean looks over at my mother, whose eyes are turned to the stage.
“Don’t worry, no one cares about us.”
“I think it’s probably best if you…” Sean is interrupted by a spattering of applause. Our attention falls onto someone at our table who has just stood up, and is moving to join my father on stage.
“I don’t believe it,” I hiss through gritted teeth as I watch Colm climb onto the stage and shake my father’s hand. I have no time to process the scene, as someone else joins the pretty little picture being painted before my eyes.
What happens next comes to me in supercuts, like intermittent flashes; it’s as if I weren’t really here, as if this weren’t really happening. It feels as if I’m watching someone else’s life crumble to pieces.
My father presents his right-hand man and future successor who, in turn, presents the newest hire: an internationally celebrated cardiologist from America who has come to work in this very hospital.
“We got really lucky,” my father adds, his hand resting on the shoulder of the new ‘family member’. “Love brought him to us.” He glances at Colm now, bursting with pride; a pride he’s never showed me.
And how could he?
“And we’re keeping him now, right?” he teases, and everyone laughs.
My father, teasing. I’ve never heard him make a joke in his entire life.
“And we’ll be keeping him forever – I’ve been told that there are wedding bells on the horizon.”
I hear voices, see people clapping, but can’t make out separate words or sounds. All I can hear is an irritating hum, and all the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight starts to rise back up my throat in disgust.
Sean’s hand rests on my thigh beneath the table, and I stiffen. I can feel his fingers; I know that he’s anxious for me, feels sorry for me. It seeps through his thumbs and into my skin through the fabric of my trousers. But I still can’t move a muscle.
The commotion in the hall continues for a few minutes; everyone seems too excited to hear the happy news. But I just sit, immobile, my breathing slow as I try to stop the disgust in my body from transforming into something ugly in front of everyone.
The two lovebirds return to our table hand-in-hand. My father is still up on stage, presenting the next speaker for the evening. My eyes are glued to Colm, waiting for him to look at me and tell me what I deserve to hear.
But it doesn’t happen.
They sit down, still holding hands, and whisper into each other’s ears. All I can do is grip tightly onto Sean’s hand, which is still resting on my thigh.
* * *
WHILE I’MOUTSIDE smoking between courses, someone approaches me from behind.
“You shouldn’t keep smoking that stuff.”
I exhale the smoke exhausted, but don’t turn to face him.
Colm stands beside me, his arms resting on the low cement wall encircling the terrace.
“I didn’t have the chance to congratulate you.”
The disgust is there, ready to escape, but I somehow manage to keep it at bay.
