“Ginelle, sweetheart,” Kitty coaxes Ginelle to look at her. “Why don't you leave your car here and ride with your mom and me?” She wipes a quiet tear from Gin's pale cheek.
She shakes her head. “I can drive.”
“Gin, I could drive your car back if—” I begin to offer.
“I...” She sniffs hard, looking over at her mom, who is sitting on the steps of the porch, eyes fixed on her hands. “I think I need the time alone. Before...before we go tell the kids.” Her jaw clenches as she visibly tries to contain a sob.
“Gigi,” Cillian says softly, a name I'd never heard anyone use for Ginelle before. “I can handle that.”
“You've done enough. You don't have to do this.”
“I know I don't have?—”
“I’ve got it.” Her voice is suddenly steady, firm in her stance on this.
“Ok, sweetheart.” Kitty gives her shoulder a squeeze.
“Mom,” Ginelle kneels at her mother's side. “You're gonna ride with Kitty. I'm gonna follow, ok?” Tina only nods blankly.
Without prompting, Cillian goes to Tina’s other side, and with tender but effective hands, he guides his aunt to her feet. Ginelle stands, taking her mother’s other side.
Kitty clears her throat, taking my forearm to draw me a little closer as the others lead Tina to the car. “I know you haven’t known one another for very long and that this...has been a lot.” She looks over at her son. When she returns her focus to me, there’s a near-desperate firein her eyes. “But please don't let him be alone right now. Please. I'll give you my number, or I assume you may have Lucy or Oli?—”
I cover her hand with mine, giving it a firm squeeze. “Kitty, I'm not going anywhere. I'll stick with him, I promise.”
I've never meant anything more in my life.
The truth of what I said must've shown through because she visibly relaxes. “Thank you.” She looks over at him once more. “If it... If anything is too much, though...”
“I’ve got him.”
She gives me a warm smile, her shoulders dropping the barest bit. “Just call if you need to, ok?”
I nod, handing her my phone. Cillian walks up, as she hands it back to me, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.
“You know you’re welcome to go to the house if you’d like,” Kitty says to Cillian. “Your Dad is at the bar, but I think he’s gonna close early.”
Cillian looks at the ground. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Kitty cups his face in her hands, pushing stray silver and dark brown strands from his face. “You don’t have to. If you just want to go home, that’s ok, too.”
He nods, avoiding looking her directly in the eye.
“Look at me, Cillian.” He hesitates but complies, his expression momentarily vulnerable before the hardness returns. “This is not your fault, baby.”
“Mom, don't—” He pulls away from her, but she grabs his shoulders, holding him in place as though he were a little boy and not a six-foot-three man.
“No,” she snaps, voice low. “I need you to hear me. You couldn’t have changed this, Cillian.” She drags in a shaky breath. “Do not let this undo you.”
“I won’t.” Cillian’s voice wavers. “Promise.”
“Good.” She pulls him into a tight hug. “I love you so much, my sweet boy.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Kitty turns her attention to me. “I’m so sorry you had to be in the middle of this, but I’m so grateful for your help.”
“I didn’t really do anything, but you’re welcome,” I say, trying to give her a warm smile.