by Penny Reid
“Why don’t you call the building’s management company and make an official complaint?” he suggested. “Show those pesky kids who they’re messing with.”
“Go home, Sean,” I replied in a bored voice as I stepped inside my apartment. In my hurry to give the neighbors what for, I’d left the door open. Before I could slam it in Sean’s face, he followed me in, Eilish heavy on his heels, though she did seem reluctant to come inside. It was expected. For whatever reason, I got the sense that she didn’t like me, or was wary of me.
I hated how it only made me want to change her mind.
“Aren’t you going to offer us some refreshments?” Sean inquired, still grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“No, because I never invited you in. This is a home invasion.”
His eyes flashed to Eilish. “How exciting! What do you think, Eilish? Shall we strip him naked, tie him up, and steal his valuables?”
I shot Sean a contemptuous look. “And why would I need to be naked?”
Sean winked at his cousin. “For Eilish’s delectation, of course. Not only is she a burglar, she’s also a bit of a perv.”
“Sean!” Eilish exclaimed. Her gaze came to me. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just being aggravating, like usual.” Color flushed her cheeks, and it caught my interest. Was she embarrassed?
I took a step closer, tilting my head and studying her through my spectacles.
“Man, there’s nothing to eat here,” said Sean, distracting me from Eilish as he rifled through my kitchen. “Good God, man. Are those dried prunes? You really are on old codger, Leech. I bet you write in letters of complaint to the BBC about the inappropriate amount of leg shown on Strictly Come Dancing.”
I groaned. He really wasn’t going to let this lie. “Can you please quit bothering me and leave? I need to find some earplugs so I can get back to my book.” And the longer Eilish remained in my apartment, the harder it was for me not to engage her. It wasn’t simply that I found her beautiful. I wanted to get to know her, who she was, what made her tick. It was a new and unexpected predicament. There was just something about her that felt familiar, like I’d known her in another life.
Movement out of the corner of my eye had me turning toward her, and I saw her step up to the coffee table, her gaze scanning the title of my book. Her lips twitched again when she glanced back at me. There was something new in her expression, a warmth that hadn’t been there before. Up until now, all I’d gotten was icy cold.
The warmth felt far too exhilarating for something so minuscule.
She held my gaze for a second longer, then went to pull Sean away from my cupboards. “Come on, let’s quit torturing Mr. Leech and leave him to his evening.”
“Oh? Did you hear that? Mr. Leech.” Sean’s eyebrows jumped high on his forehead.
Eilish almost rolled her eyes. Almost. “Come off it, Sean.”
My teammate relented, though still grinned widely, as he allowed her to lead him to the door. “I can’t wait to tell the lads all about this in the morning.”
I shrugged, not caring much, and sipped my mint tea. I’d partied more in the last ten years than the entire squad put together. I’d earned my newfound lifestyle of peace and quiet, so they could slag me off all they wanted. I looked to the door and met Eilish’s gaze one last time before she went.
There was a quality in her lingering look I couldn’t identify right away. Then it came to me: curiosity.
Something about the encounter tonight changed her mind about me.
Which made me wonder what her opinion had been before.
5
@ECassChoosesPikachu: I’m not crying, I just have onions, pepper spray, and severe acute depression in my eye.
@SeanCassinova: See you after work, I’ll be the bloke holding the sign: Free Hugs
*Eilish*
Today was Patrick’s first day at primary school, and I was a wreck.
He seemed excited, not nervous at all. My boy rarely got nervous. He simply took new experiences as they came. I, on the other hand, felt like I had placed him in a wicker basket and was about to send him down the river. Yes, I was being ridiculous. No, I couldn’t seem to help it.
“What’s wrong, Mummy?” Patrick asked, his small hand tugging on my sleeve as he stared up at me with wide, concerned eyes. I dabbed at my tears and bent down on one knee to give him a hug.
“Nothing, baby. Nothing’s wrong at all,” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“Everything will be okay,” said Patrick, patting my shoulder. “Don’t cry. When we get home, we can play Pokémon with your cards.”
I let out a watery laugh. Of course he’d be the one to comfort me. Some days I wondered if I needed him more than he needed me. The prospect of not being with him all day made my heart feel like it was breaking. I’d been spoiled over the last few months; finishing school with Sean’s financial assistance meant I’d been able to spend all day, every day with Patrick.
Now it was time for reality.
Stupid reality, keeping it real all the time.
“We’re a team,” Patrick went on prosaically, and I grew even more emotional. It was something I always said to him. It was our motto. The two of us against the world.
Sean cleared his throat from somewhere behind us.
And maybe Sean.
“Yes, baby, we’re a team,” I sniffled and pulled back slightly. “You’re the most amazing boy in the whole wide world, do you know that?”
Patrick chewed his lip. I couldn’t get over how adorable he looked in his uniform: tiny white shirt, tiny blue jumper, tiny gray slacks, tiny black shoes. The sight of him made my heart melt. “Do you think I’ll make friends?” he asked with just a hint of apprehension.
I laughed softly to cover my maniacal maternal instincts, which had me thinking, They better be friendly to you, or else I’ll be handing out wedgies to four-year-olds . . . and likely being arrested for giving wedgies to four-year-olds.
I ran my fingers through his short hair. “I think you’ll make more friends than you’ll know what to do with.”
He wriggled excitedly in place and started to grin. “I hope they like Pokémon.”
“I’m sure they will. Now give Mummy one last hug. She’s going to miss you like crazy.”
He threw his arms around my shoulders and squeezed tight. “I’m gonna miss you, too,” he whispered in my ear, like he was telling a secret.
Standing back after a hug that lasted too long, but never long enough, I finally let him walk into his classroom, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I stood at the door, peering through the window, my heart in my throat.
Please be nice to him. He is my world. If you make him cry, I’ll destroy you.
“Okay, Eilish. Time to go.” Sean came up behind me, his hands gripping my shoulders and turning me away from the door.
“Just one more minute.”
“No. We have to go. Do you want to be late for work on your first day?”
Sighing sadly, I let him steer me from Patrick’s classroom, down the hall, out the door, and to Sean’s car. Once we were buckled in, Sean had us back on the road.
“Oh, come now. Cheer up.”
I sighed again. It was still sad.
“He’s growing up so fast,” I said mournfully.
“Yes. Pretty soon he’ll be beating his Uncle Sean in an actual ruck, and not just ones we play on the game console.”
I slid my eyes to the side and peered at my cousin. He was a trickster. Last night, as Lucy watched Patrick at my place, we’d gone to Sean’s to pick a little something up.
The little something had turned out to be a big something.
“We’re not keeping it.”
“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal.”
I coughed, then sputtered, then coughed again, finally managing to choke out, “How can you say that?”
My cousin shifted in the driver’s seat, casting me an ill-tempered gaze. “You make it sound lik
e I gave him a pony or a nuclear submarine. The Russians have several for sale, you know. You should be thanking me for not buying him one of those.”
“No, Sean. Not a pony or a nuclear sub. Just a giant television and a brand new Wii U game system. That’s it. That’s all.”
“So?” Sean’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pressed on the gas, the car accelerating so suddenly I had to grasp the door handle.
“Sean.”
“Eilish.”
I pressed my lips together, staring out the windshield, attempting to arrange my thoughts. How could I explain to my cousin that his lavish gifts made me feel . . . they made me feel . . .
Incompetent. Like a failure. Like a parasite.
I released a silent sigh and closed my eyes, endeavoring to gather my scattered thoughts. “I appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do for us. I do.” I affixed my eyes unseeingly out the passenger side window. “You saved my life, more than once. But, you have to understand, I’ll never be able to repay you, I’ll never be able to—”
“Have I asked for repayment?” He slowed as we approached the light in front of the complex, gentling his voice. “We’re family, E.”
“I know,” I said, but I shook my head at the word, because we both knew being family didn’t always equal love and support.
But family meant something to Sean. And it meant something to me.
The rest of our relatives? Not so much.
“You simply must allow me to spoil my nephew,” Sean demanded haughtily, pulling a smile from me. He liked to play the snob but I knew underneath all his bluster was a big old softie.
As an example, Sean—who had no brothers or sisters—called my son his nephew, though they were technically cousins. In return, Patrick called Sean “Monkey Sean,” which was Patrick’s version of Uncle Sean.
Again, I shook my head. “You mustn’t buy Patrick such elaborate gifts. First of all, I have nowhere to put the television. My apartment is far too small.”
“Then get a bigger place. There’s a penthouse available in my building.”
I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. “And second of all, it’s not good for Patrick to be spending so much time playing video games.”
Sean frowned. “It’s not?”
“No. It’s not, especially not on his own. Maybe . . . maybe you could keep the game system at your place? Then, when we come to visit, the two of you can play together.”
“That’s an idea.” Sean nodded, his eyes brightening as he pulled into the parking garage. “It could be our special thing. I’ve already missed so much time with him.”
Ugh. Right through the heart.
I suppressed the now familiar guilt Olympics.
We’d arrived at the sports complex, and today was my first day at my new job. Now was not the time for me to be simmering in my regrets.
“Sorry,” Sean offered solemnly. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“It’s fine.” I waved away his apology, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s just that, I wish you would have let me help sooner.” Sean pulled into his assigned parking spot but didn’t cut the engine. “You are excessively stubborn.”
I chuckled, my head falling back to the headrest, and repeated myself for perhaps the millionth time, “I did what I thought was right at the time, and I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. God, you have no idea how sorry I am.”
I felt Sean’s hand close over mine and squeeze. “Yes, well, never mind that. Nothing to do about it now. Just keep reminding yourself that your dashing cousin Sean is always right in all things, and life will miraculously become less burdensome.”
I twisted my mouth to the side, lifted my eyelids—just a sliver—and peered at him. “Really? All things, eh?”
His lips twitched and I knew he was remembering the cornucopia of times over our childhood where he was most definitely not right in all things. I was just about to remind him of the time he’d fed our family dog orange sherbet, which had led the dog to leave orange puddles all over the carpet, when Sean’s gaze sharpened, growing abruptly sober.
“What will you do if you see Bryan today?”
I winced, turning my face away, and endeavoring to mask my discomfort with a light laugh. “Bryan who?”
Oh yeah, real smooth, E.
I failed at life. More specifically, I failed at not ogling Bryan Leech.
I’d decided that’s what I’d been doing at the party last week and then again yesterday. Even in his ridiculous housecoat, slippers, and spectacles the man was entirely too delicious.
And adorable.
Whoa. No. No, no, no. I pushed that thought away. I could not and would not think about Bryan in terms of being adorable.
Lust. Lust was safe. Any straight woman with a pulse would feel lust for Bryan Leech. I’d been ogling the man. Every time I forced my gaze away, it sought him out. I’d felt like an addict, devouring him with my eyes, promising myself that each glance would be the last . . .
But so it goes when one loses one’s virginity to a mystical, gorgeous creature with an enchanted penis.
Sean heaved a frustrated sigh. “Eilish.”
“Sean.”
“Pretending you don’t know to whom I’m referring is a shite strategy.”
“Sean—”
“You should get to know him.”
“Stop—”
“Ask him out for a drink.”
“Please—”
“On second thought, don’t do that. It would be exceptionally awkward. Poor bastard is a teetotaler now—can you believe, mint tea?—and he even seems to like it. Come to think on it, you don’t drink much either.”
“Sean, enough!” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone. I let my face fall into my hands, taking a moment to push back the rush of anxiety, and mumbling through my fingers, “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, darling. I know you’re not getting much sleep.”
I smiled humorlessly, though he couldn’t see it since my face was still hidden. I hadn’t been getting much sleep. Patrick had been sick on and off for the last month with an upper respiratory infection. He was on the mend, but he was still sleeping with me. This meant I could count on being kicked in the stomach at least six times a night. For a four-year-old, the kid had massively long and strong legs.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m an ungrateful witch. I should have brought my broom to work.”
“No. You’re an exhausted single mother who is starting a new job today at the same place where the father of her child works, only he has no idea he has a child.”
A flare of panic and guilt burned in my chest, making it difficult to breathe or think. But I wouldn’t cry. Even as a kid I’d never been much of a crier. I hadn’t cried in years. I’d tried, but I physically could not, not since giving birth to Patrick.
Besides, Sean wasn’t the most unbiased person when it came to mothers keeping their son’s father in the dark. His own mother had hidden the identity of his father for years.
“What would you have me do, Sean? He was drunk. He didn’t know my name. He doesn’t even remember me.”
“Perhaps he’d have made things right by you,” he offered solemnly, finally cutting the engine.
“I’m not interested in him doing right by me. Like I said, he was drunk, hardly capable of giving consent to father a child.”
“You were both there, E. Perhaps if he’d known he was a father, he might have cleaned up his act earlier.”
“You can’t put that on me.” I shook my head quickly, feeling my anxiety rise with each word. “Sure, maybe he would have cleaned up his act. Or perhaps he wouldn’t have given a shit. Or perhaps he would have taken Patrick away from me. Or perhaps he would have—”
“All right, all right.” Sean held his hands between us in surrender, then unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’m not going to argue with you about this again. As I’
ve said, you’re excessively stubborn.”
I swallowed a retort on the tip of my tongue. If this had been five years ago, I would have argued. We would have sparred and enjoyed every second of it.
But I didn’t do that anymore. Plus, I loved my cousin and didn’t want to be ungrateful. I needed him to know how much he meant to me, how he’d made such an immense difference in my life.
I felt his eyes on my profile, felt the shift in his mood before he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up, not now, not before your first day.”
“I want you to know,” I gathered a deep breath, and with it my courage, “I never told you this, but I’ve never regretted having Patrick. Never. He has made my life infinitely better. Loving him, taking care of him, has been the greatest joy of my life. Sometimes things were difficult, sometimes they were impossible, and I would wonder how I was going to make it through, whether we were going to have to live out of my car—”
“Oh, darling.”
“No, listen. I need to say this and I need you to hear it.”
He reached for my hand and squeezed it. I turned mine palm up and twisted our fingers together.
“This is selfish and terrible, but what got me through those times was knowing I had you. I don’t know what I would have done without you as my safety net. If things fell apart, I knew you would be there.”
He gave me a tender and pleased smile, which only served to ignite my guilt.
“It’s not fair, how much I’ve asked of you.”
“You’re wrong, darling. Because loving you and Patrick, taking care of you and Patrick has been one of the greatest joys of my life. You are my family.”
“But it’s not fair, how you’ve placed your life on hold. You and Lucy—”
“Don’t you worry about us, we’re right on track, thanks to you. She adores Patrick, as you know, and he’s been a most effective contagion.”
“Contagion?”
“Yes. For baby-making fever.”
I gasped, then laughed, because Sean was grinning devilishly. “You’ve been using Patrick this whole time?”