“Does that not reflect on how she was brought up, then?”
“Course not. Did you raise me any differently than you raised her?” Eamon challenges.
Rosie shrugs and wipes at her eyes. “I like to think your Da and I showed you both the same love and support and discipline.”
“You did, Ma. That’s what I’m saying. Caity has always been headstrong, and there’s not a soul in this world that can make her do what she doesn’t want to do. That’s just her personality. She knows right from wrong though.”
“He’s right, Rosie,” I interject. “Anyone can see what an amazing motheryou are. Eamon is testimony to that. He’s thoughtful and caring and selfless, but he’s also the human being he is because he makes the choice every day to be that way. Some behaviors are just a part of who we are, and we have to make the conscious decision to rise above them and do good.”
Rosie gives me a watery smile. “Ach, you’re right. Of course, you are. All I ever wanted for her was a good life. It’s just so hard as a mother to see your child struggle and suffer. You’ll understand one day.”
Eamon and I glance at each other. Crimson creeps over his cheeks and his eyes sparkle. I’m not ready for kids yet, but for a split second, I see a flash of what our future could be and the idea is thrilling.
“Heavens! What was I thinking? I am so sorry, to the two of ya. Nobody likes a Mam that starts harping about grandchildren. I wasn’t insinuating that you two…”
“It’s grand, Ma,” Eamon reassures her. “No harm done. Right, Acushla?” He winks at me, and I grin back.
“Right,” I confirm. “I wasn’t under that impression at all.”
Rosie glances back and forth between us, then starts crying again. “Ach. I’m a weepy mess this morning, aren’t I? Your Da called me that before we were married.”
“He did? I had no idea,” he murmurs, grief clouding his eyes. I reach for his hand and give it a small squeeze.
“Aye. And your Grandda called your granny that as well,” she says, studying my hand on Eamon’s. “It suits you, dear.”
I smile shyly, but inside, I’m beaming.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eamon
The hospital is quiet when we arrive. After checking in at the nurses’ station, Mam leads us down the corridor to the last room on our left, a sense of dread flooding my mind. As if reading my thoughts, she turns and fixes her eyes on me.
“She won’t look how you last saw her. She’s barely more than skin and bones. And the bruising on her arms…” Mam shudders.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself to see my baby sister. Norah squeezes my hand, giving me a small reassuring smile. Words cannot express how thankful I am that she’s here. As long as she’s by my side, I feel like I can be strong enough to face whatever comes our way. Her constant encouragement strengthens my resolve and I square my shoulders before followingmy Mam into the room.
The lights are low, but the curtains are pulled back, letting in the morning sunlight. Mam hurries to Caity’s bedside, taking her hand and kissing her forehead. I’m barely through the door, and I can see how frail she is from here.
“Caity, love,” she whispers. “You’ll never guess who’s here to see you. Your brother, Eamon, has come home at last. And he’s brought a lass with him.”
I slowly approach my sister, sucking in a sharp breath once I see her fully. Her face is gaunt with dark circles under her closed eyes, and her dark hair, the same color as mine and our Da’s, is brittle and lifeless. She looks ages older than her meager twenty-one years. Her arms are thin and scattered with bruises and track marks, and there’s dirt caked under her fingernails. A wave of sorrow washes over me, and I can’t stop the tears that stream silently down my face. I round the end of the bed to sit on the opposite side. Like our mother, I press a kiss to her forehead.
“Ach, Caity Bug. What did you get yourself into?” I mutter.
Guilt floods me. I should have never left Ireland. I should have been strong enough to stay here for my family. I could have ignored Rhiannan and Declan and moved to my own flat if I couldn’t handle being next door. Instead, I fled to the States like a coward, thinking only about myself, not once considering how it could hurt those I left behind. I look over at my Mam, whose eyes are glued to my sister.
“Mam,” I choke out, furiously blinking away the tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed here. I could have helped watch after Caity. I could have been here for you.I should have stayed.”
“Eamon, love, no,” she rushes out, reaching across the bed to grip my arm. “You’re not to blame for this. You had to do what was right for you. Make a life for yourself. You followed your heart, and that’s an honorable thing.”
I scoff. “No, I was a selfish eejit that couldn’t stomach the idea of being around my cheating girlfriend and best mate. I ran away.”
Standing abruptly, I lace my fingers behind my head and stare out the window. All I see is my shame. Norah sidles up next to me, and when she places a calming hand on my arm, I shrug it off, disgusted with myself. Maybe that’s cold of me, but I don’t deserve any sort of comfort right now.
“Ach, don’t be daft,” my mother chastises me. “Were you not just telling me that Caity made her own decisions and there’s nothing I could have done about it? You being here wouldn’t have changed a thing for her.”
I release a heavy breath and hang my head. “Aye, that may be, but you shouldn’t have been dealing with it alone, Mam. I failed you.”
