The spoon clatters onto the stove. “I’m sorry? You’re not staying? But I thought…”
Tarrah has paused peeling potatoes, and stares at me with wide eyes.
“We were going to, but I think it’s best if Teagan and I stay elsewhere. We’d like for our visit to be pleasant, but I don’t think that can happen while there’s so much tension between Teagan and Mr. O’Brien.”
Siobhan, slowly wipes her hands on a dishtowel, not meeting my eyes. Tarrah is full on gaping at me.
“My dear, some things are what they are. Martin is…very dedicated to the farm, but he’s…getting older, you see, and it’s becoming more and more difficult for him to manage on his own. He always hoped that Teagan would follow in his footsteps, so when the lad left for the States, it was quite the blow.”
I nod. “I understand what you’re saying. My family also had certain expectations of me, but they recently realized that I’m my own woman who has dreams of my own. The same is true for your son. Teagan is the most wonderful and caring person I’ve ever met. He wants to do what he can to help everyone he knows, but he also needs to be able to pursue his dreams without the guilt hanging over him.”
“Ach, we don’t guilt him!” Teagan’s mom cries. “We just remind him of his responsibility as the oldest son. It’s his familial duty to take over when Martin is no longer able.”
“Mrs. O’Brien,” I say carefully. “I mean you no disrespect. It’s obvious that Teagan gets his caring nature from you. I saw that the moment I met you. However, we no longer live in the age where everything passes to the oldest son. You have other, very capable children that not only live here, but I’m sure know just as much about the farm as Teagan does. Probably more at this point.” I pause, letting the weight of my words fall.
“Teagan has made a life for himself in another country. It’s unfair and unrealistic to expect him to change that.”
Siobhán’s eyes fill with tears, hands twisting together in front of her. “I know you’re right, I do. I want nothing more than for him to be happy, but oh how I miss the lad. He’s always been this ray of sunshine, even as a wee wan. The only time I ever saw him not smiling was when he was helping with…oh.”
In a moment of clarity, her eyes meet mine and I nod sadly.
“Is when he was helping with the sheep,” I finish for her.
There’s a stretch of silence as I let the words permeate the air.
“I always loved the sheep,” Tarrah declares suddenly.
Teagan’s mom and I jerk our heads in her direction.
“What’s that, dear?”
“I love the sheep. I was always so jealous when Da made Teag go with.” She resumes peeling potatoes, not meeting our eyes. The pompous tone gone, she now just sounds sad. “It never made sense to me that Da would have him check the lambs when he knew that I loved it. I’d ask, and he’d tell me it was men’s work and to go back inside with you, Ma.” Her hands never stop moving across the potato.
“I thought if maybe I acted more like Da, he’d see that I was just as capable as either of the boys. But he didn’t notice, so I stopped asking. I started to pretend I wasn’t interested, but every chance I got, I’d listen in while he instructed Teag. If you told me I had to take over the farm today, I’m confident I could do it. I even have ideas to make it more efficient.”
I’m speechless. Who knew that under that frigid persona was a girl that just really loves…sheep.
“I think I’d like to hear those ideas, Tarrah.” A gruff voice sounds behind me and we all shriek, not realizing that Martin was standing just outside the kitchen.
“Jaysus fecking Christ, Martin! Ya scared the ever lovin’ shite out of me!” Siobhán yells, then slaps her hands over her mouth like she can’t believe she just swore in her own home.
“Bravo, Ma!” Tommy calls from the other room, Teagan’s warm laugh following.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Teagan
I’m not entirely certain what universe I stepped into, but it feels like an alternate reality. My Ma not only swore, but she yelled at Da, who is laughing, actually laughing! I’ve never heard the man laugh, let alone seen a smile on his face. Tommy is crowin’ like a feckin’ rooster. I abandon him to his fit, hoping I can get a closer look at this phenomenon that’s happening in my parents’ kitchen.
I must be dreamin’. Tarrah is giggling with a pile of potato skins in front of her, while Ma is absolutely scarlet, laughing so hard that tears are pourin’ down her cheeks. Da is bent at the waist, hands on his knees trying to catch a breath. In the middle of it all is Layla, who looks like a stag caught in the headlights, her eyes are so wide. It’s mostly confusion, but there’s a spark of mischief in there too, and I wonder what she’s been at while I’ve beenmucking out sheep pens.
“You alright, mo chroi?” I ask, maneuvering around the man that looks like my Da, but can’t possibly be.
“Yes?” she answers in the form of a question. “I’m not really sure what’s happening right now, if I’m being honest.”
“Well, that makes two of us. Seems like we both had an interesting time apart, yeah?”
Giving me a curious look, she asks, “What happened while you were away?”
