“Dinner plans?”
He nodded, proceeding to help me into my coat. “Yeah, Isortapromised Mam we’d be over there for dinner tonight.”
“For what?”
“Ehm, to celebrate?” He looked atme incredulously, as though that should have been obvious. “Everybody iscomin’ over. Sean, Ryan, your parents, Kate and her family.We’repickin’ Meghan up before we head over.”
With my hands planted to my hips, I blinked at him,fighting back my smile. “You didn’t even know if I’d say yes, and you madeplansto celebrate?”
He grinned, flashing his dimples. “Oh, please,Kins. You were nevergonnasayno.”
He laughed, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward the door,and he continued to laugh all the way to the driveway and into his truck.
Patrickinney.
My Irish bastard.
EPILOGUE II |
Forever & the Sweetest ofThings
PATRICK
We were marriedwhen we were thirty-three.
Three decades after we first met.
Better late than never, I told myself whenever I found mymind focusing on all that wasted time in between. Those missing pages from thestory of Kinsey and me.
My brothers Sean and Ryan stood next to me, both sharingthe duties of Best Man. Once identical, time had taken them in completelydifferent directions, setting Ryan apart from Sean with black hair dye, a bodyof tattoos, and a permanent cloud of cigarette smoke circling his head. But,underneath it all, they had the same face, the same voice, and they stillfinished each other’s sentences.
To my right, on the other side of the aisle, stood Kate andMeghan. They wore matching dresses and higher heels than I would’ve preferredon my thirteen-year-old daughter. Thirteen years old, excited to haveKinsey as her stepmother, and looking more and more like a woman every day.Hell, with her red hair all done up and her face painted with way too muchmakeup, I hardly recognized her.
My little girl.Shewas once small enough to lay comfortably in the crook of one young, terrifiedarm, and in the blink of an eye, she was wearing makeup and having her mom takeher bra shopping.
Feck, I thought, my jaw tickingand my heart clenching.
Speaking of her mom, Christine had decided not to move to NewJersey. After hearing about the rekindling of Kinsey’s and my relationship, sherealized that I wouldn’t be leaving goodol’ RC. Iwas willing to make it work. I could handle the drive down to Jersey everyweekend, if I had to, but Christine wasn’t stupid. She knew that ripping Meghanaway from her school, her friends, and, most importantly, her father, was asurefire way to make the kid hate her for all eternity. So, she said that fiveyears wasn’t a very long time, and she could wait until Meghan was eighteen andable to make her own decisions.
It was the nicest thing she had ever done for me.
Ryan nudged me in the ribs. “Hey, you nervous?”
“Why the hell would I be nervous?” I chuckled, shaking myhead.
He raised a pierced brow. “Well,considerin’yourfirstmarriage …”
“Consider who he was marriedto,” Sean countered,and the two of them cringed.
“Hey,” I warned, “remember what I said abouttalkin’ about her in front of Meghan. She’s still hermother.”
Ryan nodded apologetically. “Well, all I’msayin’ is, there’s plenty to be nervous about. You could befaced with more child support in another ten years. That’s why I’m not evergettin’ married, man. Feck no.”
Sean snorted. “Yeah, because you’re avoiding thepossibility of child support bysleepin’ with anywoman with a pulse.”
“You’re just jealous that I’mgettin’to ‘emfirst.”
Sean shouldered Ryan, shoving him into me, and I shovedback. Mam scolded us with a hissed “boys” from the front row of chairs,and we shared a moment of warning glares at each other before breaking into atrio of smiles. Because while little girls were growing up and ex-wives weresuddenly doing nice things, some shite never seemed to change, and as I thoughtabout the woman waiting inside, I said a silent prayer for never-endingconsistencies.
