“I’m okay, love,” he whispers. “I just need a minute.”
“I know. This is big. But I’m here. You’re not doing this alone,” I promise him.
“Thank you,” he says hoarsely before leaning across the console to place a gentle kiss on my lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I answer, resting my forehead against his. “Are you ready to go in now?”
“Aye,” he nods. “Let’s do this. I’m surprised Mam hasn’t come tearing out the door already.”
I glance towards the front of the house, nerves fluttering in my stomach. This trip isn’t even remotely about me, but I’m meeting his Mom for the first time. This is big.
“She’ll love you, Acushla. Don’t worry,” Eamon assures me, sensing my hesitation. “C’mon, we’re in this together now.”
We step out of the car and Eamon rounds the front to grasp my hand, squeezing my fingers reassuringly. Before we hit the front steps, the door flies open and a curvy middle-aged woman with curly copper hair rushes out. She freezes on the top step, a hand immediately going to her chest, while tears fill her eyes and her bottom lip quivers.
“Eamon, my boy…” is all she manages to get out before breaking into a sob and lunging for him. She throws her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as she openly weeps.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulls her close and whispers, “Hiya, Mam.”
Tears escape my eyes watching the man I love reunite with the woman who brought him into this world. The tender way he holds her and lets her cry all over him is endearing, to say the least, and a small part of my heart cracks, missing my own mother. What I wouldn’t give to hug her again.
When they finally pull apart, his Mom cups his tear-streaked face and absorbs every detail. “Ach, son, you’ve grown even more handsome. I didn’t think that was possible. You look so much like your Da.”
Her lip quivers again, and Eamon’s brow furrows in sadness. He lets out a ragged breath and glances at me, drawing his Mom’s attention. She pulls back, wiping her eyes, and fixates on me.
“Oh!” she exclaims. “You must be Norah!”
I smile and step forward, extending my hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Kennedy. I’m so sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”
Mrs. Kennedy grabs my hand, abruptly pulling me into a hug. “Please,call me Rosie. And thank you, love.”
I’m stunned for a moment, absorbing the motherly affection that I’ve gone so long without. I’ve had numerous hugs from friends and Eamon, but there’s nothing like a mother’s hug. The way their arms are gentle but full of strength, love, and security. I almost let loose a sob of my own at the contact.
I lean back, looking into eyes so similar to Eamon’s it’s shocking. “Thank me? What for?”
“For making my boy so happy and bringing him home to me for a short while. You’ll never know how much that means to me.”
“I can’t take credit for bringing him home, but I’m happy to be here with him,” I tell her.
Rosie cups my cheek and studies my face before saying, “Aye, I doubt he would have been so willing to come if you weren’t with him. He wasn’t stretching the truth when he said you were beautiful. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to leave your side.”
I blush, in response to the compliment and look to Eamon. Winking at me, he steps towards us and slides an arm around my waist. When he kisses my temple, I can’t help but melt into him a little bit.
“Yer not completely wrong, Mam,” he interjects. “I would have come regardless, but having Norah with me feels right.”
His mother presses her fingers to her mouth as her eyes fill with tears again. “Ach, enough of my blubbering. Come inside. I’ll make us a cuppa.”
We follow Rosie through the door, stepping into a small entryway connected to a staircase leading to the second floor. To my right is a dining room outfitted with a simple rectangular table and four matching chairs, a small buffet up against the far wall with a painting of a seaside above it. To my left is a small sitting room that is the epitome of cozy with a loveseat sitting in front of the bay window and facing an oval coffee table and two recliners. An old wood-burning fireplace takes up the adjacent wall, and the mantle is adorned with a garland, long tapered candles, and various picture frames.
“Are you hungry, Eamon, love? Norah? Shall I make you a bite to eat?”Rosie asks.
Eamon looks at me, and I shake my head. “No, Ma,” he says, “we’re grand. We ate in Dublin before we set off.”
“Did ye get enough? It would be no trouble at all,” she offers.
I place a hand on her elbow. “Really, Mrs. Kennedy. We’re fine. There’s no need to do any extra work.”
She playfully shakes a finger at me. “What did I tell ya about calling me Rosie? There will be noMrs. Kennedyas long as you’re taking good care of my boy.”
