The clones of my family members have finally pulled themselves together enough that the laughter has died down and they’re now staring at us.
Tommy strides in, points at me and says, “Teagan grew a pair and told Da he feckin hates sheep, that he loves you, lass, and doesn’t plan on leaving the States anytime soon.”
I cringe. “That’s not exactly how that happened.”
What did happen is that my Da wouldn’t let up, so I did something I’ve never done before. I lost my temper.
The hammer I’d been using went flying over Da’s head into the wall, leaving a nice hole, and I raged at him. I poured all of the years of suppressed anger out onto the dirt floor of the barn, then followed it up with my dreams, whichdidinclude loving Layla and staying in the States. I told him that I resented him for how he made me feel as a lad. How he was a shite father to all of us. In that moment, I honestly thought he was going to haul back and hit me his face was so red, but he did something so unexpected that I actually thought I’d died.
He hugged me. Hard.
I’m not ashamed to say that I wept like a babe in his arms, wrapping my arms around his sturdy form to return the embrace. Not to be left out, Tommy jumped in, covering both of us with his spindly arms.
When we finally broke apart, Da’s eyes were suspiciously red as he clasped my shoulder firmly. “I’m sorry, son. Not just for being a right shite to ya, but for taking so long to have this conversation. I never wanted to be this kind of father, but I felt like I was failing all of you wans by not being ableto provide the way a man should. I poured myself into work and it got the better of me.”
After twenty-seven years of hardly speaking at all, we will have to learn how to talk to each other properly. It will be a process, but for once, I’m actually looking forward to spending time with him. If healing can be found, I’d love nothing more than to start fresh with my family and forge new relationships with them. I’m not naive enough to believe it will be all leprechauns and rainbows from now on, but it’s a start.
* * *
We stayed at my parents’ house for several hours, eating the dinner Ma prepared with Layla and Tarrah, and catching up. Conversation was stilted at times as we navigated this new territory, but eventually we found a good rhythm. There was more laughter in that sitting room than I think there’s ever been.
Tarrah and Gerard disappeared for a while, and only my sister returned.
“Tarrah, love, are you alright?” Ma asked as she craned her neck. “Where’d Gerard run off to?”
“Erm, actually, he left. We, uh, broke off the engagement.”
A collective gasp fills the room, followed by a shout of joy from Tommy that makes all of us chuckle, even Da.
“Sorry, Tar, but he was a bleedin’ melter, that one. You’ll be better off.” My brother tells her decidedly, conviction lacing his tone
Tarrah glares at him. “Don’t hold back now, Thomas. Tell us what you really think!” Turning her attention to our parents, she says, “I’m sorry. I know you liked him, but I just couldn’t take the way he talked to me like I was an absolute eejit all the time. And,” she stops briefly, color rising on her cheeks, “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but he’s an awful ride.”
Da chokes on his beer while Ma turns scarlet, fanning her face with her hand.
“Jaysus, Tarrah!” Tommy cries. “No one wants to hear about you andGerard’s bedroom activities! Fecking hell.”
Layla and I chuckle quietly as Tarrah begins to read him the Riot Act.
When it’s time to say our goodbyes, Ma begs us to stay, but right now? I need my lass all to myself. The tension and subsequent explosion have left me drained, and nothing sounds better than curling up with her in my arms. That wouldn’t be happening at my parents’. There’s a quaint little B&B above a local pub that was all too happy to rent out a room when I called them earlier.
The drive is short, and check-in is simple enough. The older woman at the front desk leads us to our room, giving us a saucy wink before scurrying back to her station. A sigh of relief leaves both of us as soon as the door clicks shut. The space is cozy and tidy. There’s a queen sized bed to the right of the door covered in fluffy blankets and pillows. Past that, there’s a small sitting area with two overstuffed chairs facing the window. To our left is a simple bathroom housing the jacks, a sink and vanity, and a surprisingly large Jacuzzi tub.
Leaving our bags by the door, we shed our jackets and shoes. Layla sinks onto the bed, laying on her back, and closing her eyes. That dark curtain of hair fans across the blankets and all I can do is stare. She’s so fucking beautiful.
“You’re staring, guapo.”
“Aye, it’s true. Can’t help it,” I tell her as I crawl over her, trapping that luscious body between my arms and legs. I lean down, brushing my lips across hers.
“You’re beautiful.” I kiss her cheek.
“And sexy.” A kiss to the spot below her ear has her giggling.
“And stunning.” My lips meet her throat.
“Mmm,” she moans.
“And I need you naked right this fecking minute, Cailín.”
