Cooper
For the second time in as many months, Cooper donned his suit, made the best of his hair and polished his one smart pair of shoes.
He’d thought that looking the part might help, but as he drove out of the city along the familiar winding roads that led towards Sherwood Forest, he faced the stomach-twisting reality that a smart tie and clean shave weren’t going to do anything to lessen the impact of what he was about to do. Even with the air-con on its highest setting, he was still sweating.
All too soon, he reached the farmhouse driveway, pulling to a stop before taking a long moment to get his breathing under control. He tried to remember what he’d planned on saying. It had managed to sound half reasonable the countless times he’d practised during the long Easter weekend, but now the snatches that came back to him seemed hollow and pathetic.
He asked himself for the millionth time what he was doing.
Just being back here, seeing the rambling house – starting to look a little rough around the edges, but still like something out of a cosy TV drama – remembering the warmth and the welcome that lay behind the red front door, the longing to truly belong here was a physical ache in his chest. The chance to be a part of a family –thisfamily – was beyond anything he’d hoped for.
No, the problem wasn’t whether he wanted to do this.
The problem was that he knew he didn’t really deserve it.
As if the only way he could become one of the Donovans was to sneak in undercover. He could argue that he had to do it this way to avoid Bridget losing her job, and screwing up the finance to buy the shop. But he knew that part of the reason was because he didn’t really believe that someone like Emma would ever choose him, if she had the choice.
So, what kind of man did that make him, given that he’d manipulated things so that she ended up with him anyway?
One who is going to step up, do what it takes and figure out how to be the best husband she could have. One that, in time, she’d be able to say that she would have chosen.
So that was why he was here, wiping the perspiration off his forehead and plucking up the courage to get out of the car and make the first step towards being the kind of man she deserved.
He knocked, and then pushed open the door, calling out a hello. Bridget had told him that Gabriella would be out and it was best not to make her dad have to get up.
‘In here!’ Bear’s voice echoed through from the living room.
Cooper was there in three strides, trying to hide his shock at how frail Bear looked compared to four years ago. He was sitting with his feet propped up on a stool, his legs covered in a tartan blanket. Seeing who it was, once the fog cleared from his eyes, Bear made to stand up, a huge smile breaking across his face. Cooper was quick to move over to him, intending to shake his hand but instead finding himself pulled into a giant hug.
Tears welled up in his eyes for the second time in a week as he felt the once-strong arms embrace him.
‘Cooper. You’re home!’ Bear gave him another squeeze before letting go. ‘Kill the fatted calf! Or, at the very least, stick the kettle on. My long-lost son has returned.’
‘I brought you this.’ Cooper held out a bottle of one of Ireland’s finest whiskies. ‘If it isn’t too early?’
‘Ha! I’d say it’s about four years too late! Fetch a couple of glasses, and tell me what’s the craic.’
They spent far longer than Cooper had expected talking about what he’d been up to for the past few years, and what led him to come back to Nottingham. At first he’d felt awkward, chatting away with such a bombshell waiting to be detonated. But, on the other hand, Bear was genuinely interested, and if Cooper didn’t seem like such a stranger, then surely that could only help.
After asking about the business, and the wider family, noting that Bear refused to go near the topic of his health, Cooper knew they’d finally reached that point in the conversation he had been dreading.
‘Now, what brings you here in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon? I know it’s not because you got a sudden urge to ask me how I was faring.’
Cooper put down his whisky glass and smoothed his hair back one more time.Here goes.
‘I’ve come to ask for your blessing. To marry your daughter.’
Bear narrowed his kind eyes. ‘Ah, son. How do you expect me to respond to that, given that Paolo was here asking me the same question only a couple of months since? Are you maybe jumping the gun a bit? Or, more to the point, missed the boat altogether? Unless Bridget’s had a grand change of heart and the news hasn’t got around to me yet.’
‘No. Not Bridget.’ He swallowed. ‘I want to marry Emma.’
‘Emma?’Bear pulled his head back in surprise, mental cogs grinding. ‘But wasn’t she away with my sister when you used to hang about here? I didn’t know you even knew her.’
Cooper coughed; the collar on his shirt seemed to have shrunk inches in the past ten seconds. ‘I don’t. It’s quite a long story, if you’ll allow me to explain.’
Bear’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think you better had.’
And so, Cooper left the farmhouse a long while later, leaving his remarkable father-in-law-to-be snoring, and taking with him several meandering tales of Irish love and courtship, a lifetime’s advice on the mysterious ways of women, numerous heartfelt promises made through a veil of manly tears, and the blessing of Bear Donovan to wed his eldest daughter.
