After two weeks eating expensive chocolate cookies and drinking cheap energy drinks on the couch, Aisling was ready to face the world. Maybe it was the sugar in her blood. Maybe it was the guilt. Or maybe it was the excitement that ignited her whole body. Liam was on his way home.
Aisling had woken up at 6:39 that Sunday. She knew the hour down to the minute because she had immediately taken her phone from the bedside table to check that his flight was on schedule. In about six and a half hours he would be walking through the front door. She wanted to get going, to get everything ready for their first night back together. Still, she stayed a couple more hours in bed, checking what all her virtual friends had been up to overnight.
When she managed to get up, she wrote a to-do list on a yellow sticky note. No more failure. She was going to have a perfect score that Sunday. Six tasks: clean the house, change the bed sheets, bake a lasagna, have a shower, take out the trash, and dance!
Room by room, Aisling tackled the mess she had been living in. She was used to the back and forth between extremes. It was never until her house resembled a war zone that she forced herself to tidy it up.
First up was the bedroom. It was the easiest to clean and Aisling could immediately have the satisfaction of crossing one item off her list. She started by picking up dirty socks from the floor, discreetly smelling them to check if she could wear them again before washing, and then promptly throwing all of them into the laundry basket. She replaced the menstrual-blood-stained sheets with rose ones, then dusted every corner of the room, and even vacuumed under the bed. There were plenty of condoms in the first drawer of her bedside table. Time to move on to the bathroom.
After picking up an absurd amount of dark brown hair from the shower drain and spending half an hour scrubbing the tiles and fittings, Aisling was ready to deal with the living room. Empty cans, bottles, and assorted packets covered the coffee table, sofa, and carpet. The keys Liam could not find on his way out were hiding under the dining table. Aisling watched the latest episode of one of her favourite reality shows while she cleaned. She loved watching it with Liam.
Two squares crossed off and it was time to bake Liam’s favourite dish: lentil lasagna. Aisling usually cooked it from scratch but she could not bring herself to do it like that this time. It had been hard enough to go out to buy the pre-made tomato and béchamel sauces - nevermind cooking them herself. After quickly boiling the lentils, she only had to assemble the lasagna and pop it in the oven.
Time to get dressed. But what to wear? Liam loved the white shirt they had bought at that little vintage shop in Belfast. Aisling lied in bed and revisited their trip to Northern Ireland the previous Spring. They had felt like they used to in Dublin. The smoke concealing the starry sky had filled them with sadness. The tall buildings replacing the ample green fields had filled them with homesickness. How glad they had been to come back to Kerry.
Home. People usually think of a house when they speak of home. Aisling thought of Liam. The smile that crept onto his lips when she told him one of her friends’ jokes. The subtle sound of his car driving up the long driveway. The warmth from his hairy chest when she fell asleep there.
Aisling took the trash out to an unusually bright day with birds chirping all around her. Most people were probably enjoying the sunshine at their nearest park or in town. The neighbours were having a party. They were great at finding excuses to gather family and friends. Aisling and Liam were not like that. Maybe if they were she would have been invited. They always had a great time by themselves anyway. Why change? Aisling went back inside.
Only one blank square left. The delicious smell of lasagna reminded her of their honeymoon in Italy, so Aisling chose an album by her favourite Italian pianist and started slow-dancing in the tidy living room.
By 13:30 the joy from her dancing session had died out and Liam still had not arrived. What was taking him so long? Was there traffic? Why had he not texted after landing? Maybe he had forgotten to top up his phone. Aisling had not checked his flight’s status on the airport website since an hour after its ETA. She was scared to.
She had been leaning against the sofa for almost an hour. Her eyes fixed on the parking area under the window; her ears searching for a sign from the doorbell. The phone rang instead. Aisling paused to take in the unknown number on the vibrating device.
‘Good afternoon,’ said a calm voice. ‘My name is Jane. Am I speaking with Aisling Cahill?’
‘Yes’ was Aisling’s shaky response.
Jane's calmness somehow augured dreadful news. Aisling yearned to hang up. Jane explained that she was calling from the nearest hospital to Dublin Airport. Aisling knew what Jane was going to say next. She sat down.
At least her house was clean.