“I’d have to respectfully disagree with that,” I said. “While it might be true that Billy likes this girl, she’s also someone that I happen to feel strongly about. I’m not trying to interfere or ruin his life by any means. He really doesn’t factor into this equation.”
“You don’t have any regard for anyone else when it comes to this sort of thing, do you?” Seamus asked. “When it comes to women. I know as well as you do that you could have any woman you wanted. I know that you’ve used that to your advantage on more than one occasion.” He held his hands up. “And I’m not judging you. If I had your looks, I’d do the same thing. Hell, back in the day, I got with more than my fair share of women, and I’m only half as handsome as you are.”
“Stop,” I said. “You’re making me blush.” I did feel better though, now that I knew this was all that Seamus had wanted to talk to me about. The whole thing was actually a bit absurd—Billy complaining to his father and putting Seamus up to talking to me. What the hell did they think I’d do—tell them I’d just walk away, he could have her?
“Billy and I have always had a very close relationship,” Seamus said, as though he could read my mind. “Which, considering some of the relationships I’ve seen between other boys and their father—or step-fathers—I have come to truly appreciate. Though trust me Ian—I normally wouldn’t meddle in this sort of situation at all. Billy’s had girlfriends before, and he’s had relationships end—both by him and by the other party. It happens, it’s part of life. But I have never seen him so enamored with someone, who, according to him and some of the people who have seen them together at Failte, seems to get along with him quite well. And would probably continue to do so if you were not in the picture.”
“So what?” I said. “Are you going to order a hit on me or something if I don’t break up with Daisy?”
“Are you two together?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Would she agree with that statement?”
“I believe so.”
Seamus sighed. “Billy has never met a girl that he wanted to settle down with. He’s getting older, though. His mother would like grandchildren, because we are getting older as well.”
“Billy barely even knows Daisy.”
“And I’m not saying that I think she is necessarily the person that he’s going to end up with. But I’d like him to have the chance, and I don’t think that’s going to happen if you’re around. It’s his birthday soon, you know.”
“So what—this is your early birthday present to him? A new girlfriend?”
“Come on, Ian. Stop fooling yourself. We both know that she doesn’t really mean anything to you.”
I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my
hand across the lower part of my face. It seemed beyond surreal that I was sitting here with Seamus McAllister, who was asking me to stop seeing Daisy so she could get together with his son instead. Was I dreaming? It wouldn’t seem to be so. This was really happening, but why the hell did Seamus think I’d ever agree to something like this?
The thing was, up until Daisy, I probably would have. If this conversation were happening, say, five months ago, and Seamus was asking me to stop fucking Annie because Billy was interested in her, I probably would have resisted a little—because who really wants to be told what to do?—but really, I would have had no problem in letting him have her. Because what we were doing was just for fun, it wasn’t serious, and it would eventually end. I knew this, even if she didn’t. With Daisy, though, it was different.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” I said.
“I heard something interesting about you,” Seamus said, completely ignoring what I just said. “I heard that every Wednesday, you go visit your step-father, Pete, at that god-awful nursing home he’s spending the rest of his days in since that second stroke did him in.”
“Correct,” I said, wondering who had told him that.
“A lot of people probably think that’s very kind, very compassionate of you to continue to see him.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care what other people think.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re doing it to spite him. I don’t think there’s a single compassionate bone in your body, at least when it comes to that man.”
I held Seamus’s gaze, wondering what he was trying to get at. “You’re entitled to think whatever you want. I’m not going to change your mind. You’re not really the sort of person who can be swayed by what others want, anyway.”
“Most people probably don’t know how bad it was between the two of you,” he said. “Did you ever wonder why he suddenly started leaving you alone? That would be the summer of your sophomore year. Do you remember that?”
“Of course I do. It was because he finally realized I was big enough that I could fight back.” I was still kind of scrawny that summer, but I’d shot up in height, and I was doing what I could to build muscle. That summer—and every year after that—Pete had left me alone. Barely even looked at me. I had felt as though I’d achieved some sort of victory.
“You might’ve stood more of a chance with him than when you were in sixth grade,” Seamus said, “but I remember you at fifteen. You weren’t much. He still would’ve been able to lay you flat on your ass. But he didn’t.”
Seamus kept his eyes on me, watching, waiting. I tried to keep my face impassive; I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, as it slowly dawned on me what he was saying.