Breakaway by Deirdre Martin Page B

down,” said her mother, settling back into her chair.
    “Why was I the one coming back from Moneygall with the groceries?”
    Her mother furrowed her brows. “I don’t understand.”
    “Yes, you do, you understand perfectly well. It should’ve been the person you’ve hired to replace me.”
    Her mother looked cornered. “I haven’t had time to hire anybody. It’s been busy. The summer…”
    “It’s going on months now,” Erin pointed out plaintively. “Months. We agreed I would only be helping out for a short while, but I’ve started to feel taken for granted; you just keep piling more and more stuff on me.”
    Her mother stiffened. “I don’t understand.”
    “First it was just laundry and making the beds. Then I started doing the shopping. Now you’ve got me vacuuming sometimes and baking the odd batch of scones.” Erin pressed her lips together. “This is hard for me to say, but if you don’t hire someone by the end of this month, I’m going to start interviewing people myself. I already put an ad in the paper and have had loads of responses.”
    Her mother pretended not to hear. “Darlin’, I don’t see what the problem is. Aren’t you happy to be working with your family?”
    “No,” Erin said bluntly, regretting it immediately. She had to tread the boards softly. “I have other things I want to do in my life.”
    “Like what?”
    “Get a college degree.”
    Her mother snorted dismissively. “Don’t be daft.”
    Erin’s insides felt like a dull razor was being scraped across them. “Why is that daft?”
    “University is for snooty people. You know, like Aislinn’s sister Nora.”
    “You had no problem with me taking courses when I was with Rory.”
    “Well, that was just a bit of fun, wasn’t it?”
    “No, it wasn’t,” Erin said sharply. “I’ve always wanted to make something of myself.”
    Her mother appeared mystified. “And what would you make of yourself?”
    “Whatever I want.” Erin tried to hold her temper back, but couldn’t. Her mother’s blatant insult cut her too badly to just sit there and take it. “Why is it that anything that doesn’t fit in with your view of the world is ‘daft’? I remember you saying Aislinn was mad because she took over her parents’ sheep farm. You know what your problem is? You never encouraged us to reach. Me and Brian. You never encouraged us to dream, because you think that if you dream, you might get hurt. Sometimes that’s true. I got hurt by Rory. But I learned from that: it’s better to dream and get your bloody face kicked in than to play it safe and live in a very tiny world, never taking any risks.”
    “I see.” Her mother’s expression was cold as she stood. “Well, that certainly was an earful. Anything else while your tongue is in prime working order?”
    “No. That’s it.”
    “Sleep tight, then.”
    “You, too, Mam.”
    Erin remained at the table, listening to her mother’s light footfall as she went back upstairs. Jesus wept. The woman could be maddening, not to mention downright bloody mean. Erin couldn’t help but wonder if there was a bit of jealousy mixed in with her mother’s put-downs. Maybe she’d wanted to cut loose once upon a time, but couldn’t. She got up and turned off the kitchen light, suddenly yearning for sleep. A midnight discussion in the O’Brien house: this would count as an exciting night in Ballycraig, she supposed.

6

    Sandra laughed so hard when Erin told her the story that tears were running down her face. Erin was laughing hard as well: once one of them started, the other always followed. San’s booming laugh was one of Erin’s favorite sounds in the world. All Erin had to do was hear it, and if she were in a bad mood, her negativity would vanish instantly.
    “Oh, Christ,” Sandra wheezed. “I’ve got to stop or I’m going to wet me knickers. Online dating? You?”
    “I know. And even if I was, what would the big deal be?”
    “Erin, your mother doesn’t