A Hand to Hold

Chapter twenty

~ Ronan

*

Damn, my wife had a powerful slap. I could almost feel the sting of it days later. Three days passed, and still, she refused to talk to me. Not that I blamed her. I may have gone too far in selling her car. I knew I had a problem with control, but I couldn’t decide if I cared enough to alter my behavior. I craved consistency and stability. Having a wife turned out to be too big a variable in my life.

*

A battle raged within me between letting Natalie go and holding on tighter. I was far too set in my ways to change. It was up to her to be the flexible one in this relationship. She was asking too much if she wanted me to be anything less than what I was— an unyielding, controlling, selfish bastard. She’d worked with me long enough to recognize my most dominant traits.

*

However, I wasn’t entirely without one or two redeeming qualities. I had a conscience. I could admit when I was wrong. I felt particularly regretful over deceiving Natalie about the conditions of my inheritance. I took full responsibility for that snafu.

*

I believed Natalie’s cold shoulder would thaw once she realized I’d been searching the city out of concern for her. I expected her to look at me with that sweet, innocent smile and express remorse over causing me alarm. Then, I would’ve had the opportunity to apologize for keeping her in the dark about my inheritance. We should’ve been reconciled by now. But no, she was far more stubborn than I gave her credit for. How could my wife be so forgiving one day only to turn resentful the next? The short answer— vulnerability.

*

After days of dwelling on our argument and analyzing every word spoken and every expression that crossed her face, I concluded that Natalie acted from a place of vulnerability. Her insecurities prevented her from occupying the same room as me for three whole days. Dealing with the female psyche was the number one reason why I’d never wanted a wife in the first place.

*

I decided to give Natalie one more day. One more day to come to me of her own free will before I took drastic measures. If it came down to it, I would transfer all her belongings to my room, making it impossible for her to avoid me. While it was true I’d never wanted a wife, the fact of the matter was… I had one, and I took our marriage seriously. When I said till death do us part, I meant it. I didn’t doubt an annulment had crossed Natalie’s mind at some point over the past few days, and that would happen over my dead body. She needed to learn she couldn’t run away from me that easily. Life with me needn’t be difficult or even unhappy if she wasn’t determined to make it so. Therefore, she had one more day before we were going to hash things out, whether she wanted to or not.

*

Monday morning, I considered ways to get my wife to come to me as I went through my morning workout. I wiped a dry towel across my sweaty face and checked the time on my phone. I had conference meetings with my employees scheduled all day long. The end of the year brought many tedious tasks.

*

After showering and dressing, I approached the door of the fourth bedroom, the one Natalie had adopted as her painting space. Every morning, before leaving for work, I would put my ear to the door and listen to her hard at work, despite the early hour. And every night, after my wife retreated to her bedroom, I would then sneak into her territory to admire what she had created that day.

*

Natalie’s talent was exceptional. Her outstanding creations should be hanging in a gallery, not out of sight in my spare room. Her work closely resembled the painting that hung downstairs in my office. The one I’d shelled out thousands of dollars for. I couldn’t help but feel pride in my wife, and I wished she would come to me so we could move past our disagreement, and I could tell her that. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

*

I made my way outside to where Harrison awaited me. We rode most of the way to the office in silence, and as I skimmed the morning paper, I realized just how little my driver had spoken to me recently. “You haven’t been very talkative lately, Harrison,” I commented.

“I haven’t had anything constructive to say, Mr. Ó Ceallaigh.”

“I don’t believe that to be true.”

*

I set aside the newspaper and said, “Come on, Harrison, you’ve always been frank with me. What’s stopping you now?”

“The knowledge that my words would only fall on deaf ears.”

“You’ve successfully piqued my curiosity. What is it you think I would be so unreceptive to?”

“I really shouldn’t say.”

“Then allow me to wager a guess. You believe I have only myself to blame for receiving my wife’s cold shoulder?”

“You’re as perceptive as always, sir,” he admitted as he guided the car into the parking garage.

*

“Natalie knew what she was getting into when she married me,” I said.

“Don’t you think she deserves better?” Harrison questioned.

“Oh, I know she does. Alas, I am unlikely to ever change. I’m set in my ways. You, of all people, should know that. Natalie, on the other hand, is… flexible. She’ll come around soon, you’ll see.”

*

Harrison meant well, which is why I never chastised him for speaking his mind. However, his efforts would be better put toward convincing my wife to talk to me.

*

Katrina had also been giving me the cold shoulder lately, but that came as no surprise. When I arrived at work the day after selling Natalie’s car, I’d received quite an earful from my assistant. Since then, she only spoke to me when it concerned work matters and only when absolutely necessary.

*

My assistant followed me into my office and promptly reviewed the day’s schedule— meetings in the conference room all day. I already knew that. The day was bound to be grueling. “Why don’t you take the day off, Katrina?” I offered. She looked up from her calendar and asked, “Are you serious?”

“I’m in conference all day, and it isn’t anything I need you for. You may as well take the day off.”

“Alright then, I will. See you tomorrow.” She walked out without hesitation. I didn’t need to give her much encouragement to leave my presence. She’d likely already envisioned cursing me out seven ways till Sunday.

*

I retrieved a bottle of ibuprofen from my top desk drawer. Back-to-back meetings guaranteed a headache in my future, which warranted a preemptive strike. I chased the pills with half a bottle of water, grabbed the files I needed, and was about to leave for the conference room when my phone beeped. Low battery. I cursed myself for forgetting to put it on the charger the night before. Luckily, I had a charger in my desk. After I plugged in my phone, I gathered what I needed and made my way to the conference room.

~~*~~

Halfway through the morning, my team and I had made a decent dent in our tasks. The heads of all my departments joined me in the conference room with the promise of a fat bonus if we accomplished everything in one day. I hated dragging things out. My head of human resources, Jim Klein, sat beside me. He was exceptionally hard-working and enjoyed spending all his money on fancy cars. I knew the bonus would effectively motivate him.

*

We were in the middle of one of the most important meetings of the day when our attention was redirected by a commotion down the hall. “What on earth is going on out there?” Jim wondered aloud. By the sound of it, two women had gotten into a shouting match with one another. “Jim, go see what the problem is,” I told him. “They’re loud enough to have disturbed the entire floor.”

*

Moments later, Jim returned looking flummoxed. “What is it?” I questioned.

“It’s your former assistant.”

“Natalie’s here?” He nodded and said, “She claims she needs to see you urgently. Tiffany stopped her from coming in. She told her you were in meetings all day, but the girl insists the matter is urgent. Security has been called.” I was on my feet in an instant, making my way out of the room as I called over my shoulder to Jim. “Call security right away and tell them not to come.”

“Not to come?” he repeated in confusion.

“That’s what I said!”

*

I jogged down the hall as employees poked their heads out of their offices to investigate the racket. I came upon the scene just as Natalie cried out, “Get your hands off me!” I immediately became enraged by the sight of my wife struggling in the grasp of two beefy security officers while Tiffany blocked her path.

*

“Take your hands off her this instant if you wish to remain employed another day!” I demanded. They obliged but protested, “Sir, this woman is trespassing.”

“This woman is my wife!” I asserted. “And she said it was urgent.” This wasn’t how I envisioned making the announcement, but it was inevitable.

*

The guards looked dumbfounded at each other, then questioningly at Tiffany before the taller man spoke, “Our apologies, Mr. Ó Ceallaigh. She never said she was your wife. And Ms. Pullman claimed she was trespassing.” I rolled my eyes in exasperation before shouting for the entire floor to hear, “Return to work, everyone!” I leaned toward Tiffany and lowered my voice, saying, “I will deal with you later.”

“Sir, you said you didn’t want to be interrupted,” she pleaded in her defense.

“You should have known that didn’t apply to my wife, especially when she says it’s urgent.”

*

After the receptionist slithered back to her corner, I turned to my wife. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice void of emotion. Regardless of the disgraceful way she’d been treated by my own security, I hadn’t forgotten the silent treatment I’d endured for days.

*

“You need to come with me,” Natalie answered meekly. I dismissed her, saying, “Natalie, it’s nearly the end of the quarter. I’m in back-to-back meetings all day. We can talk when I get home; after this distraction, it will undoubtedly be late.” I turned to retreat to the conference room, but she stopped me, softly taking ahold of my arm.

*

“Ronan.” Hearing the plea in her voice, I faced her at once. It was then I truly noticed her face. Worry and concern were etched in her eyes. I took in her attire. She wore her painting clothes, meaning she’d rushed there for some reason. “You need to come with me,” she urged again.

“What is it, bean chéile? What’s wrong?”

“It’s your grandmother. She’s had a heart attack; she’s in the hospital.”

~~*~~

My grandmother had been my steadfast supporter since the day I was born. She’d selflessly raised me as a single parent without complaint. She was the primary influence over the person I’d become, and there was no way I’d be half the success I was without her. When my father’s business began to take off, and he sent for me to come and live with him in America, my grandmother didn’t think twice about packing up and moving with me. She’d left the only home she had ever known to relocate to a foreign country for the sole purpose of continuing her role in my upbringing. She was my rock and the toughest person I’d ever known. I hadn’t seen her ill in all my life. How was it I suddenly found myself rushing to her bedside?

*

My palms perspired and my leg bounced nervously as I rode in the back of the Rolls with Natalie by my side. Her hand rested on my forearm in a comforting gesture, which was more kindness than I deserved. The drive seemed never-ending until we finally pulled up to the hospital’s entrance.

*

I took Natalie’s small but warm hand from my arm and held it in mine as if siphoning strength and comfort from her. She hadn’t said a word to me since we’d left the office, but I could feel her unwavering support. She was a gem of a woman, and it had never been more clear that I didn’t deserve her.

*

We briskly entered the hospital and found the nearest information desk. “Brigid Ó Ceallaigh,” I told the receptionist.

“Date of birth?” she asked.

“f**k,” I swore under my breath, struggling to concentrate. “Um, September 17th … damn it, I can’t think of the year.” My voice shook with fear and frustration. Natalie squeezed my hand tighter and softly said, “Ronan, it’s okay. Take a breath. How old is she?”

“Sixty-eight,” I told her. Natalie turned to the receptionist, who nodded in acknowledgment before stating, “Okay, it says here she is currently in surgery.” The receptionist continued speaking, but it sounded as though my head was underwater. I lost focus the second I heard the word surgery.

*

I regained partial sense when Natalie guided me toward the elevator, never letting go of my hand. For the first time in my adult life, I let someone else take control. I couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out where I was heading, but Natalie sensed my struggle and took the lead. Once she pressed the button for the third floor, she squeezed my hand again and said, “Ronan, it’s going to be alright. Your grandmother is alive. Focus on that, okay?” I nodded without making eye contact. I couldn’t speak. Instead, I brought her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles in appreciation.

*

When the elevator doors opened, I let Natalie read the signs and guide me where we needed to go. We had just rounded a corner when I heard, “Ronan!” I turned fast as my baby sister came barreling toward me. I reached for her and brought her to my chest. My sister and I may only share a father, but I never saw her as anything less than my full sister. She was a little-bitty thing, at barely 5’ 1”, with a petite frame. Her long red spiral curls were tamed in a side braid draped over her shoulder.

*

When we broke apart, I noticed her light-blue eyes were bloodshot from crying. “Aingeal, how is she?” I asked. “Have you spoken to her doctor?”

“No, not yet,” she replied. “They said surgery will last several hours.” She returned to my embrace as she cried, “I’m so scared, Ronan. She’s almost seventy. Heart surgery at her age is difficult to bounce back from.” I rubbed her back in comfort, finding my own solace in calming my sister.

*

“She’s strong,” I stated. “It’ll take more than this to slow her down, Aingeal. Trust me. I’ve seen her make a full Christmas dinner with a broken arm. Nothing will claim her until she is good and ready.” I drew strength from my own words.

*

When I sensed my wife’s presence behind me, I said, “Maddie, I want you to meet someone.” I reached back and took Natalie’s hand, pulling her forward. “This is Natalie, your new sister-in-law.” Maddie beamed, despite having been crying moments before, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around Natalie.

*

“I’m so happy to finally meet you!” my sister exclaimed. “My brother has been hogging you all to himself.” Maddie pulled back and added, “Welcome to our family.” I knew she’d be excited to meet Natalie. I didn’t, however, expect Natalie to look so nervous. “Maddie has been pestering me all week to meet you, bean chéile,” I said. “She’s always wanted a sister.” I reclaimed Natalie’s hand and gave her an encouraging squeeze. “I’m happy to meet you too,” Natalie timidly expressed with a sweet smile. “Ronan talks about you all the time.”

“I can only imagine the nonsense he spouts about me. Disregard everything he’s told you,” my sister demanded in jest.

“Actually, he speaks of you very lovingly,” Natalie corrected. “You’d be touched, I’m sure.”

“You’re a good wife to defend him. We’ll be fast friends.”

“I’d like that. I’m so sorry we aren’t meeting under happier circumstances.”

“Me too,” Maddie agreed solemnly.

*

I wanted more information on my grandmother’s surgery. However, at that moment, a familiar voice called out my name. “Ronan! Oh my God, I came as soon as I could.” Before I could react, Cynthia had thrown her arms around my neck and held on for dear life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~