“They don’t think so.” She fingered her hairline. “They just want to observe me for a few hours.”
“Where’s Chevelle?”
“He’s with Stacy,” Tristan spoke, standing up from the bed, crossing her arms over her middle, and starting to sway in that way I’d come to know so well. “We left the kids with her while I helped Cassidy with some of the business license paperwork, in case you had good news for her today.”
I shoved my hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” I said with remorse.
Cassidy shook her head and winced. “Stop. This isnotyour fault. And if you’d been at my side, nothing would have changed.”
“I could have caught you,” I said.
“God! No, you couldn't have! It happened too fast,” she said, angry. I wasn’t sure if it was at me, or herself, or the world.
“What did happen?” I asked.
My phone rang—Mom. I’d avoided her calls as long as I could because I’d needed to know Cass was okay for myself before I answered them.
“Mom,” I said, and Cassidy rolled her eyes, provoking another wince.
“Wherewereyou?” The accusation and disappointment leaked through the phone.
“She’s okay, Mom. Stitches. A chipped tooth. No concussion.”
“You promised,mo leanbh.” The term of endearment felt like a cuss word.
“I know. I had to go to the city,” I told her.
“This is exactly why I said I couldn’t leave. We can never count on you to stay.” Mom was crying, which only tore my gut up even more. Another goddamn failure I’d never be forgiven for.
The phone was ripped out of my hands. Cassidy had stood and grabbed it before I could even think about it. She wobbled, and I reached out to stabilize her.
“Mom. I’m fine,” she said. And I could hear Mom’s fraught tone on the other side before Cassidy cut her off. “Listen to me, Mom. Brady was in New York forme. Do you understand that? He went forme. He’s trying to make my dream of owning a restaurant come true. He’s been putting himself out for me over and over again, and I don’t want you to make him feel bad about it. I’m a grown woman. I have muscle tone issues. I’m going to fall. I’m going to get hurt. No one can prevent that. Not you. Not him. Not being wrapped in bubble wrap.”
She took a deep breath.
“You have to stop blaming Brady for my body and my decisions.”
The room was silent. The call was silent. Then, Mom must have asked about the restaurant, because Cassidy’s lips quirked. “I asked him not to tell you. We’re trying to buy Kincaid’s, and I didn’t want you all up in arms until we knew it could happen.”
My sister listened, rolled her eyes, winced, and handed me back my phone.
“She wants to talk to you.”
I grabbed the phone.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I’m upset,” Mom said. I didn’t know how to respond to that. I was upset as well, but at least she wasn’t cursing at me in Gaelic. We both sat there, silent, keeping our thoughts to ourselves.
I heard my dad’s voice in the background, the tone encouraging but the words unrecognizable. He’d said Ireland was the space he needed to help Mom work on things, but I was sure this had just put a huge dent in those efforts.
“I’m trying to be here,” I said, wanting her to know how much it mattered to me and feeling so much like that twelve-year-old kid who’d lost his sister again. I was almost thirty fucking years old. There was no reason to feel this way, but family easily did it to me. Guilt and regret mixed in with the love.
She sighed. “I know. I just don’t think it will ever be enough.”
The knife she could wield so easily cut through me, scoring my veins.
“I gotta go,” I said. I hung up, turning away from the two women as I tried to fight for control. I wouldn’t throw the phone. I wouldn’t scream. I wouldn’t curse.
