Here, Here, and Here

Caoimhe was passed out in the back seat on the driver’s side and I was sitting awkwardly in the front passenger seat. Tom had been driving towards my apartment for a couple of minutes but I think he had taken a few wrong turns because where we were headed now was not the right direction.

“So what was Bill freaking out about?” he asked trying to make conversation.

“Oh, I guess he noticed the tattoo I got behind my left ear and it surprised him” I answered thankful for the break in silence.

“I don’t know why he has about four himself and you’ve been wanting a tattoo for as long as I’ve known you” he continued, “What’s it of?”

“Oh it’s just a few music notes, like three I think” I said racking my brain (I don’t see that part of my body to often).

“Do you have any others?”

“Yeah, I actually have two more” I said a little nervous, “I’ve got one on my wrist” I said showing him the peace sign on my right wrist. He glanced down and read what it said, “What’s all those numbers on there for?”

“Oh they’re my for my dad” I continued after o saw the confused look on his face, “About two years ago he got shipped out for the war in Iraq.”

“Oh shit Av, I’m sorry that must be hard for you.”

“You’re right, that’s why I don’t like to talk about it” I snapped, for some reason all my anger at him chose to boil up at that moment, “And please if you’re going to swear in front of my daughter, which I prefer you not do, could you do it in English?”

“A; she’s asleep and B; what the fuck is stuck up your ass?” he retorted in English and from that point the rest of the conversation was carried out in my first and his second language.

“I don’t know Tom, who’s ass have you been stuck up the last four and a half years?” Aw, now comes into play the attitude I’m know for.

“What the hell Eibhlin? Don’t tell me you’re pissed at me because of that, you are the one who fucking disappeared like you didn’t give a shit about us”

“Huh, I didn’t give a shit? Aren’t you the one who hit on girls not only behind my back, but flipping in front of my face?” now I was finally letting it all out, but it was about four years to late. “And while I was raising ou…my daughter” I almost said our daughter, “you were out drinking and partying and getting laid all over Europe.”

“Me, who was the one who decided to go have some fun after I left and got knocked up?” now that I couldn’t take. I felt my jaw quiver and my defenses fall, but I built them back up quick enough.

“And you know what, I’m so fucking glad I decided to have that one night of fun” I said picking up his theory on how I got pregnant, “because Caoimhe is the best damn thing to ever happen to me and she always will be.”

Just as I finished he pulled up to my apartment and I got out of the car, Tom right behind me. He unbuckled Caoimhe and handed me her with her still in her car seat. The last thing he did before peeling off of my street was hold the door open for me.

It was I bit of a struggle to carry Caoimhe up one flight of stairs to the elevator (for some stupid reason the elevator started on the second floor instead of the first.)

I unlocked the apartment door to find it empty. I took Keevie out of the car seat and carried her to her bed. I took off her shoes and then covered her with the quilt my grandmother had made for her.

I went to my room and pulled open the drawer of my vanity that always stuck and thrust my hand in to the back. When I felt the old piece of crumpled paper I wrapped my tired fingers around it and pulled it towards myself. After holding it in my hand and not looking at it for what seemed like minutes I glanced at it real fast then began to unfold the letter.

After holding the now unfolded paper in my hands for anther thought to be eternity I looked at for real this time. As my eyes ran over the tear stains and blurred words I couldn’t tell the difference between the tears that were as old as the words written from the ones that seemed to be as fresh as the emotions that ran wild tonight.

I didn’t read the letter, there was no need to, no only had I written it, but I had read it what must be a million times. No I just scanned the letter starting with the words ‘Dear Tom’. Words like ‘sorry’ and ‘what we had’ jumped out at me, but the truest words on that page stuck with me. These seven words, this one line, was the only part of this letter that I ever read anymore and I read them again.

‘P.S. I’m still not over you.’