Emily is running around with a tray to collect empty champagne glasses. She's a big girl now; she knows that Mom trusts her to be careful enough with them. It's Dad's 34th birthday today and they're having a big barbeque for all of their family friends.
Even grandpa is here. He was usually never here for any of their birthdays. Mom explained that he lived far away and it was difficult for him to drive over all the time.
He came for Christmas last year and they all had dinner together. He brought her little sister a doll and she got a book about the solar system. She suspects Dad told him that she loved learning about stars and the universe, because Grandpa had never met her before. At least she can't remember. Anyway, he couldn't have known.
He's sitting next to the neighbour that she only knows as Old Roger and looks really content. He's a nice person, Emily thinks and wonders for the millionth time why he hasn't visited them earlier. He's not that old. He has his own car.
She takes the full tray into the kitchen. She has the very important job of making sure everything is in order here. She has taken all the finished salads back inside earlier. The bowls are in the dishwasher. She got Dad an extra plate when he asked for it. Stuff like that.
She's the only one that hears the doorbell ring because everyone is out back and there's music on. It's already past nine. She wonders who would show up for Dad's party three hours late.
She pulls the door open and takes a moment to place the face. She remembers him. "Uncle…Tommy?"
He stares back at her, apparently shocked that she recalls his name. It's been a long time. He's got a bunch of flowers in his right hand and a wrapped bottle in his left. "Yeah," he says, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, "And you're…?"
"Emily," she reminds him, pulling the door open wider to let him step inside. She turns her lips down in a disapproving frown, "You're really late you know. Everyone's already eaten"
He doesn't seem to be phased by her observation. "It's hard to get a ride to your place out here"
"Why don't you have a car? Can't you drive?" she asks curiously as she leads him into the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers. He follows her, looking at the balloons floating around the floor, each with a big fancy number written on it in Sharpie. They put a lot of work into the balloons and she's convinced that hers still look the best.
"Just never got around to buying a car. Maybe I'll do that," he answers, handing her the bouquet with a half-smile, "So I can be on time for the next birthday"
She can feel his eyes on her as she fills the vase with water and snips the rubber band away to arrange the flowers better. He's probably going to say something about her getting really big like all the other people today. She really doesn't know why family friends say that, like it would make her proud. She doesn't actually feel bigger.
She puts the finished masterpiece on the kitchen table with all the others. It's like a florist's shop in here. She gives him a grin. "How'd you know Mom likes red Gerberas best?"
He snorts at the question, putting the bottle on the counter. "Lucky guess."
She laughs at the sarcasm that he is not even bothered to hide. He can be funny, even if he looks like most of the bad guys she sees on television.
"Where's your dad?" he continues and she waves for him to follow her. Everyone is all over the garden, standing, sitting, laughing, talking. She pauses on the patio to look across the back and feels him stop behind her.
Everything is looking really pretty, they put up strings of lanterns in the morning and now they're all shining in the gloom. The only other light is the barbeque that is still glowing with heat. She finally finds her Dad in the crowd and points him out to the new guest.
He mumbles something unintelligable and pats her on the head before he heads off in that direction. Honestly, why do adults have to do that? It makes her look like a pet. A moment later, she feels a light hand on her shoulder and looks up to see Paddy Conlon beside her. "Your mother's looking for you. I think she has another job for you," he tells her in that scratchy, kind grandpa voice of his.
"Okay," she nods and is just about to go find her when she feels his fingers suddenly clench harder into her shoulder. Emily follows his gaze to see that he is staring at Tommy's back.
The man has reached his brother, tapping him on the arm. Her dad takes a look over his shoulder, freezes, and then virtually tackles him into a hug. It takes a long moment before they pull apart and exchange a few words.
She keeps watching as her Dad slings an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and begins introducing him to the people around him. Then she glances up at the person next to her. She is shocked to see tears running down his wrinkly face.
"Grandpa?"
The tears keep coming but he smiles down at her. He looks happy despite the crying. She is very confused. It takes him a second before he gives her a reassuring squeeze and says, "Everything's alright. You go on and find your Mom"
She does, just because she doesn't know what to do. She immediately tells her about the new flowers in the kitchen. Mom looks just as surprised as Dad that he showed up and Emily is starting to think that maybe she shouldn't have let him in if he wasn't invited. Nobody seems to have expected him.
"It's alright honey, I'm sure Dad's happy to see him," her Mom assures her, "You still remembered him?"
"Of course. The man with the drawings on his arms," she jokes, "It's really weird though. Grandpa started crying when he saw him hug Dad"
She gets a strange expression spreading over Mom's face as she says that. Then she sighs, "You know, in a couple of years, Dad will probably tell you all about that. But today he just wants to be spending his birthday with his friends and having a great party. Don't worry about Grandpa"
She shrugs and nods, looking back across the lawn at the brothers who are now moving away from the others to sit on the bench at the garage.
Her mother's voice pulls her back from her daydream. "Do you mind checking up on Rosie? I think she went upstairs earlier"
"Sure"
And she's off again, going inside the house and jogging up the stairs on tiptoes. She calls quietly for her sister. Receiving no answer, she opens Rose's room. The lights are on but the girl has curled up on a nest of pillows and blanket. She's burrowed into it on the ground, clothes and all, asleep.
She has to smile at the mess of dolls and stuffed animals on the carpet. Rose was probably bored with the adult talk downstairs. Having eaten three whole plates full, she's probably so stuffed she just couldn't keep her eyes open.
She takes the extra blanket from the foot of her sister's bed and spreads it over the girl. Then she switches off the light. She's just about to close the window so it doesn't get cold overnight when she glimpses the three men on the grass below.
She knows it's really not polite to eavesdrop but she's interested. This room overlooks the front and side of the house so she can see the top and back of the garage and if she sticks her head out to the right, the front of their drive.
It's Uncle Tommy and Dad and the third person is Grandpa, who is approaching them slowly. She strains to hear what Tommy says but he's quiet when he talks and it doesn't drift up to where she stands. Dad's voice is much clearer though.
"Pop's been coming over again since last year. After the tournament, it was time to make things right. He's wanted to be a part of the girls' life and when he showed me that he'd been sober for so long, I decided to give him that chance."
"Forgive and forget," Tommy tells him, "That's always been your piece of cake"
Grandpa calls Tommy's name, meandering closer to the bench where they sit. His voice is carrying over now; she can identify his words too. "You know, I never thanked you"
The man's words are cautious, almost suspicious. "What for?"
Grandpa's voice is shaky and Emily wonders if he's still crying. "Your mother, she stayed alive much longer with you than if she would've stuck by me. Everything you did for her…I apologised but I never thanked you"
There's a silence. Emily doesn't have a great understanding of this conversation but she feels that there's something important going on. Twelve-year-olds have that much sense. The quiet spreads until the big man right beneath her raises his head.
"I didn't do it for you," Tommy finally replies.
"I know," Paddy stops in front of them, "But you and Brendan were everything she had left. You were there with her. So thank you"
She imagines she can hear the tears in his words. People's voices always crack when they're crying or go strange, and right now, Grandpa's voice hitches a lot more. She thinks if she stood down there right now, she would probably have the urge to hug him to make him feel better. But the two men don't.
There's another prolonged stillness between the three of them and Emily thinks she's missing something. She leans out just a fraction, just enough to actually see the tops of their heads beneath her.
Eventually, Uncle Tommy slides over to the end of the bench. Her Dad scoots over a fraction too. She hears Grandpa make a noise that sounds relieved, sad and tired at the same time. She watches him shuffle closer and take a seat between the two brothers.
It's a weird picture. They look like a jury, sitting in a row, staring out ahead silently at invisible contestants.
The fascinating part seems to be over and she quietly closes the window.
She's already out of the room when Tommy looks across at the remaining family he has and says, "Hey, Brendan? Tell me this was your birthday wish"