by Chloe Walsh
"Will you lads be alright out here by yourselves if we head inside for a bit?" I called up to them.
"Oh, I'm never coming down," Ollie shouted back. "So I'm super okay."
"Hey, Johnny?" Tadhg called out, poking his head over the railing.
"Yeah?"
"Uh, thanks." His cheeks reddened. "For this."
"You're welcome."
"And, uh, for the other part, too," he croaked out, brown eyes trained on mine. "The coming to get us part."
"Yeah." I swallowed deeply and nodded. "No problem."
"Tadhg, look," Ollie squealed and Tadhg disappeared from sight. "It's a tennis scope."
"A what?"
"A tennis scope."
"Telescope," I heard Tadhg sigh. "Gibsie, give him a turn, will ya? He's only nine."
"Come on, Gibs," I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. "I'll make you a sandwich."
"Fine, but I want it toasted and a packet of crisps," Gibsie grumbled. "Oh, hold up – we forgot our tools."
"I swear he's stuck in his seven-year-old mind," Hughie mused.
"You're probably right," Feely agreed. "He hasn't changed much since we made our Communion."
"Timber –"
Bang.
"Ah, Jesus Christ!" I roared out, clutching the back of my head as pain ricocheted through my scalp. Glancing around me, I spotted the hammer on the grass and blanched. "What the fuck, Gibs?" I snarled, glaring up at the big bastard who was peeking over the railing. "Timber? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's a code," Gibsie called back sheepishly.
"A code?" I demanded. "Code for what? Trying to split my head open?"
"Timber is a valid warning word to get out of the way, Johnny," he countered. "You're the academic. You should know this."
"So is fore," I spat. "Fore is a code."
Gibsie shrugged. "Fore's a golfing reference."
"I'm more of a golfer than a fucking woodcutter," I hissed, still clutching my head. "Jesus!"
"I was throwing a hammer, not a golf club," he defended, climbing down the ladder to join us. "Ah, balls, lad," he muttered, heading straight for me. "Your head's all gooey and bleeding."
"No shit, Sherlock," I snapped. "Because you threw a bleeding hammer at me."
"Technically, I threw a hammer on you, not at you – and I did call timber," he reminded me as he poked at my scalp. "It's not my fault you can't read signals – I think you might need a stitch or seven."
"Just give me your t-shirt," I growled. "And you're banned from the treehouse and handling tools. Do you hear me? No more."
"Are you okay, Johnny?" Ollie called out, sounding worried.
Ah shite.
I couldn't even kill him in peace.
"I'm grand, lads." Snatching Gibsie's t-shirt out of his hands, I pressed it to my head and forced a smile when all I wanted to do was throttle my best friend. "Make sure you both come back to the house before it gets too dark," I added, before turning my back on the treehouse and mouthing, "You better run, bitch," to Gibsie who was already legging it in the direction of the house.
"Don't hurt him too much, Cap," Feely called out as I broke into a run after Gibsie.
"Don't listen to him, Cap," Hughie chuckled. "Torture him."
"Look – it's like a Hippo trying to outrun a Cheetah," I heard Tadhg and Ollie laugh, and even though I was mad as hell and had blood dripping down the back of my neck, I had to admit, it was a lovely sound.
"Gerard, you don't throw hammers at Johnny," Mam repeated for the tenth time when we walked back into the kitchen, having just returned from the out-of-hours doctor for a quick stitch-and-go.
"Fine," Gibsie huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "But you remind him right back of what he's not supposed to do to me."
"Oh, lord, save me from the stupidity of teenage boys." Setting her handbag down on the island, Mam ushered us both onto the stools and sighed heavily. "Johnny, you don't smother Gerard with your bloodied t-shirt and trip him up – you know he gets squeamish around bodily fluids."
"My bloodied t-shirt," Gibsie corrected, narrowing his eyes at me. "It was my bloodied t-shirt to match my broken chin."
"You didn't break your chin," I scoffed. "You grazed it."
His mouth fell open. "I have a gaping hole in my face!"
"Yeah." I glared back at him. "To match the gaping hole in my head!"
"I have four stitches," he growled, pointing to his bandaged chin.
I pointed to my bandaged head. "I have six!"
"The point is, you shouldn't be giving each other stitches," Mam snapped. "You're both going on eighteen years of age. You're getting a bit old in the tooth for this carrying on."
"Oh, Jesus," Dad said when he walked into the kitchen with Sean on his hip. "What did you two do now?"
"We had a small miscommunication," Gibsie replied, elbowing me in the ribs. "A little crossing of wires."
"Yeah," I agreed, elbowing him back. "But it's balanced out now." My gaze landed on Sean in his brand-new Bob the Builder pajama set and I winked at him. "How's my big man?"
He grinned back at me. "Onny." Wriggling down from my father's arms, he scooted across the kitchen, heading straight for me with his little hands up. "Ow-ow, Onny."
"Yeah." I nodded and bent down to pick him up. "That's right, but I'm okay." Setting him down on the counter in front of me, I poked his belly and snickered when he howled laughing. "You've got a big belly," I chuckled, poking him again and grinning like a dope when he squealed in delight. "Is this Santa's belly? Hmm? Give me that belly –"
"You really like this one, don't you?" Gibsie mused, watching as I lowered my head for Sean to investigate my bandage. "You're going soft, Kav."
"Look at him," I defended, pointing at my girlfriend's baby brother. I'd spent a lot of time with this kid since they all moved in. Sean always seemed the happiest to see me, and he was too bleeding heartbreaking to ignore. I knew it wasn't right to favor children, and I'd never admit it aloud, but if I had my pick of the bunch, it would be this one every single time. And maybe Ollie. Screw it, I liked them all, but this one? He was something else. "Look at those big eyes," I ordered, pointing at Sean's big, chocolate-button eyes. "He's like a puppy. How could you not love that face?"
"He's a person, not a puppy," Gibsie laughed.
"He's my puppy, aren't you, buddy?"
Sean nodded happily. "Onny." He smashed my cheeks in his hands. "My Onny."
"Your Onny?" Gibsie teased. "No, no, I don't think so." Draping an arm over my shoulders, he said, "This is my Onny."
Sean's face reddened. "My Onny." Clutching my face in his tiny hands, he pulled me closer. "My Onny."
"Christ, lad, you're like the baby whisperer," Gibsie chuckled, sounding impressed. "He was barely communicating the last time I saw him, and now he's all over you." Frowning, he asked, "Is it just the J's he has trouble with? Is it a speech impediment or something?"
"He doesn't have any trouble," I replied in a baby voice, pulling a face at Sean. "You're just taking your time, aren't ya, buddy?"
Sean nodded happily and I knew he didn't have a notion of what I was talking about, but he was so fucking cute that he made me laugh anyway.
"See that bold boy, Sean?" I teased, pointing to Gibsie. "We're going to get him, aren't we? What do we say when we chase people?"
"Oof." Narrowing his eyes at Gibsie, he lunged forward and barked, "Oof."
"Oh my god!" Clutching his stomach, Gibsie fell off the stool from laughing. "You did not teach the baby to bark!"
"Onny oof," Sean barked. "Onny shite oof."
"Johnny!" Mam gasped. "You did not teach the baby to curse."
"Ah, shite," I groaned.
"Ah, shite, Onny," Sean mimicked, rubbing my head. "Ah, shite."
"And that's enough play time with Johnny," Dad chuckled, sweeping Sean up in his arms once more. "Come on, little man." Grabbing a beaker of milk off the countertop, Dad strolled back down the hallway. "Let's have a
story before bed."
"Don't read him that book," I called after him.
"Oh, don't worry, love," Mam coaxed. "I burned that book years ago for you."
"You're not still freaked out over that book, are you?" Gibsie snickered. "It's been years."
"I'm okay," I growled. "But he's only small."
"Johnny, lad, no one else thinks the way you do," he chuckled. "We don't all overanalyze everything like you do. It's a storybook about a chicken."
"It was legitimately terrifying," I defended. "I couldn't sleep for weeks."
"You couldn't sleep because you couldn't turn that brain of yours off," he shot back. "You're still the exact same now."
"He's right," Mam chimed in. "You're a bit of a worrier, love."
"Yeah," I muttered, deciding not to bother arguing when they were spot on. "Fair point."
"Well, I'm thinking I should hit the road and let you get some sleep before the big day," Gibsie said, giving me a meaningful look. "Do I need to come and pick you up in the morning and drag your ass over there, or are you going to be a big boy and drive yourself?"
"I'll drive," I told him. "Thanks anyway, lad."
"Oh, sweet Jesus, the trials," Mam gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. "I completely forgot."
"It's alright, Mammy K," Gibsie said. "I've got your boy's back." He gave me a scathing look. "Be up or I'm coming for you."
"I'll be there," I replied, voice thick and gruff. "I'll see this through."
"Damn straight you will," Gibsie replied, nodding. "Call me as soon as you're done." Turning to my mother, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before swiping a sandwich off the tray she was holding and sauntering out the back door. "Tootles."
"Johnny," Mam whispered when the back door closed behind him. "I am so sorry, love." Hurrying over to me, she pulled out the stool Gibsie had vacated and sat down next to me. "I don't know how I forgot about the coaches coming down tomorrow."
"Ma, it's okay," I muttered. "It's not a big deal."
"It's a huge deal," she corrected, placing her hand on my arm. "You've worked so hard to come back from injury. Your whole life… oh, Johnny, baby, I'm so sorry."
"You've had a lot on your mind," I reassured her. "And a lot of kids to be minding. It's just another trial. Don't even worry about it."
"But you're my son," she choked out. "I should have been supporting you, and helping you prepare for this."
"Ma, we have six people staying in this house that just lost their home and both of their parents," I told her. "I'm not going to begrudge loaning them mine."
"Oh, pet." Mam smiled sadly. "I just want you to know that you're still my number one."
"I know." I smirked. "And you should know that I don't need that kind of reassurance." I patted her hand. "I know who I am, and I know who I belong to." I shrugged. "I'm not worried, Ma, so don't worry about me."
"Do you want me to come with you in the morning?" she offered, squeezing my hand. "I can wait in the car, or sit in the stands –"
"Show up to training with my mother?" I shook my head and laughed. "Come on, Ma, what are you trying to do to me? The coaches would never let me live it down."
"What about Dad then?" she offered, tone hopeful.
"No." I shook my head. "No Da. No you, and no Gibsie. I'll go by myself."
"Oh, Johnny, are you sure?"
"Hundred percent."
"Fair enough," she sighed. "But I'll be thinking about you the entire time – and I'll light a candle for you, pet."
"Try not to worry about it," I replied. "It's just another day."
"How about I do the worrying for the both of us?" she offered, smiling. "You just concentrate on blowing their socks off."
"Yeah." I pushed down my nerves and forced a smile. "I'll do that."
"Oh, you will," she replied. "You always do, love."
"How's Shannon?" I asked then, forcing the question out of my mouth, the one I was both desperate to ask and terrified to know the answer to. "Did she come out of her room today?"
"She came downstairs for a little while to visit with Claire and Lizzie." Mam sighed heavily. "But she went back up to Joey shortly after. Aoife's still up there, too. I told her that she can stay as long as she wants. She seems to be making more progress with him than anyone else."
I nodded, slowly digesting everything. "And Darren?"
"He's dropping their Nanny home," Mam explained. "She's such a lovely lady, Johnny. My heart goes out to the poor crater. Marie was her granddaughter, you know. She raised her from a small child."
"Is she eating yet?" I asked, unable to concentrate on anything other than my girlfriend. "Did she have anything today?"
"Yes, she had some soup with the girls," Mam replied.
"Thank Christ," I choked out, shoulders sagging in relief. "She's after losing a lot of weight, Ma."
"She'll be okay, Johnny, love," Mam coaxed. "She just needs some time to take it all on board. It's a lot to process."
I knew that, but it wasn't easy watching her from a distance.
Mam chewed on her lip before saying, "I think it's more that she's scared to let Joey out of her sight for fear he runs than anything else."
"It's okay, Ma," I muttered.
"I don't want you feeling like you're being left out," Mam hurried to console. "She's not mad at you, pet. She's just grieving."
"I know."
"Are you sure you know?"
No. "Yeah." Pushing back my stool, I stood up and stretched my arms over my head. "I'm going hit the sack. Try and turn my brain off for an hour." I pressed a kiss to her head before heading for the hallway "Night, Ma."
"Goodnight, Johnny, love," she called after me.
Closing the kitchen door behind me, I trailed down the hall and took the stairs three at a time, listening to the sound of voices coming from all directions. Tadhg and Ollie were back from the treehouse and I could hear them banging around in one of the spare bedrooms. It was so unusual to hear anything other than my own thoughts in this place that I took a moment to just stand in the landing and listen to the brothers arguing over sweets before making my way down to my room, forcing my legs to walk past the room I knew she was in.
Slipping inside my room, I closed the door and pressed my forehead against the frame. Leaving the light off, I forced myself to breathe deep and slow. My mind was reeling, my thoughts a jumbled mess, as I tried to focus on what was coming in the morning – what I knew I had to show up to both physically and mentally. Problem was, my mind was stuck on the girl in the room down the hall. The one I couldn't fix. The one who owned me. What was I thinking going tomorrow? It wasn't like I could leave now. How could I leave her? Jesus Christ, I felt like I was going to explode…
"Hi, Johnny."
Startled at the sound of Shannon's voice, I spun around to find her sitting on the edge of my bed in the darkness. The moonlight pouring in from my bedroom window illuminated her pale face as she looked up at me with the loneliest expression I'd ever seen. "Hi, Shannon," I replied, quickly clearing my throat when the words came out all thick and gruff. Wary, I remained exactly where I was, unsure of what she wanted me to do. "How are you feeling?"
Her long hair was loose and resting over one shoulder, and she was dressed in a pajama set from one of the countless bags of new clothes that were filling up the spare room. The lads' mothers had been dropping things over to the house for days now, and I knew from one glance at the pink, glittery string top and matching shorts she was wearing, that Claire had a hand in purchasing it.
"I, uh…" She glanced down at her clasped hands and blew out a shaky breath before retraining her gaze on my face. "Oh god, Johnny, your head," she choked out. Her voice was panicked, her eyes wide. "What happened?"
"Well, it all started back in the Spring of 1988, when Gerard Gibson entered the world. Ten years later, he was thrown into my life and it all went to shite from there," I chuckled and then mentally kicked my own ass for cracking jokes. "Sorry."
"It's
okay," she whispered, tugging on the hem of her vest nervously. "I miss you."
My heart cracked in my chest and my legs were moving before my brain had a chance to catch up. "I'm right here, Shan." Sitting down beside her, I resisted the urge to pull her onto my lap, settling on placing a hand on her bare knee instead. "I never left, babe. I was just trying to give you some space."
"I don't want any more space," she whispered, shifting closer. "I just want you."
"You have me," I croaked out, feeling my heart thump rapidly. "Always."
"You saved my life, Johnny." Shivering, she leaned her cheek against my arm and exhaled a ragged breath. "You saved my brothers' lives."
"Yeah, well, you saved mine a long time ago," I replied gruffly. "I was only returning the favor."
She shook her head, body rigid. "No, I didn't –"
"Yeah, you did." Wrapping my arm around her thin shoulders, I tucked her frail body under my arm. "You woke me up, Shan. Made me see things differently. Gave me a life outside of rugby. Something to look forward to." Shrugging, I leaned down and kissed her hair. "You've done a lot for me right back, so don't be thinking otherwise."
"Your parents want to foster us," she confessed, looking up at me all wide-eyed and guilt-ridden. "Me and my brothers."
"I know, Shan," I replied softly.
"Your mother told us that she wants to keep us – all of us," she squeezed out. "Even Joey."
"Yeah?" My heart fluttered in my chest as I tried to take her measure. "And how do you feel about that?"
"I want to stay," she admitted quietly. "With your family."
I mentally heaved a sigh of relief. "That's a good thing then, right?" I coaxed. "That you want this?"
"I just feel so bad about it," she strangled out. "All of this…" Her shoulders sagged and she ducked her head. "We're all here in your space, and none of this is fair on you –"
"I want you here," I interrupted her by saying. "I want you in my space, Shannon." Twisting sideways, I tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. "There's nowhere else I want you to be than right here with me and my family, okay?"
"But it's not fair on you," she whispered, eyes full of unshed tears. "All of my brothers and my problems." Shivering, she leaned her cheek into my hand and sighed. "I don't want you to end up hating me."