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The young girl with dark hair and eyes gave Riss the once over and then nodded. “Wait a minute,” she said and Riss heard an Irish lilt in her voice.
She disappeared behind a curtain and then two minutes later came back out. She held the curtain aside and said, “You can go back. My granddad is back there.”
Riss’s heart slammed against her rib cage. She’d come this far. She took a tentative step and then another. There was no point in being slow. She wasn’t going back until she spoke to O'Toole so she might as well stop acting like a ninny. She brushed past the girl and found herself in a hallway. There was a bathroom off to the left and a kitchenette on the right. Then down a little bit further on the right, there was a sitting room.
A big window overlooked a canal and allowed a good deal of light into the room. The faded, sagging sofa looked old, but comfortable, and a coffee table rested in front of it. Bookcases, stacked haphazardly with papers, magazines, and books were situated along one wall. In one corner a man in his late sixties or early seventies sat at a desk. The floorboard creaked under her weight and the man looked up.
“Can I help…” his voice faded out. Then he broke into a smile. “Well, look what we have here. I don’t believe it. A Fitzgerald if I’ve ever seen one. You’re the spittin’ image of your mam.”
Riss’s knees went weak and she reached out and grabbed the back of a nearby chair. “I—I…you know my family?” she breathed.
The elderly man’s eyes narrowed as he gave her a quick once-over. “Aye, I do.” He gestured to the sofa. “Come sit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Siobhan?” he called. “Bring us some tea.”
“Aye, Granddad,” the young woman called.
Riss sat heavily on the sofa. He’d recognized her…knew her family. Her birth family. There were so many questions skidding around in her head she didn’t know where to start.
Siobhan arrived with two mugs of tea, with some milk and sugar on a tray. She set it down on the table. The older man gestured towards it. “Help yourself.”
Riss wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and then added milk and sugar to her tea with shaky hands. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve just been waiting a long time for this.”
William O'Toole lumbered from behind his desk and sat in the chair opposite of her. He ran his hand through his snow-white hair. “I expect ya have at that. What can I do for you then?”
“I…I want to hear about my family. I don’t even know their names. I was adopted.” The words tumbled out faster and faster. Riss bit her lip to stop the flow.
“Your mother, God rest her soul, was a good woman. A fine looking woman, no doubt, but she had a heart of gold and a good head on her shoulders. Sadly, she fell in love with the wrong sort.” He shook his head and then grabbed his mug of tea. His eyes twinkled as he looked at Riss over the rim. “You Fitzgerald women always had an eye for a bad boy.”
She froze. Fitzgerald. Her last name, her family name was Fitzgerald. Larissa Fitzgerald. She said it silently, in her head. Riss Fitzgerald. Her heart gave a thump in her chest almost as if it recognized the rightness of the name. A lump built in her throat and moisture watered her vision. She took a sip of tea to wash down the building emotion. “So, Fitzgerald is the…my last name?”
“Those are your people, yes. Your mother’s name was Saoirse Fitzgerald. You have her blond hair, and of course, those unique violet eyes.
Saoirse Fitzgerald, her mother. He’d pronounced it like it rhymed with inertia. It was musical. Her heart filled with joy at that thought.
He continued. “Never seen anyone with violet eyes except her and then your sister. Shame what happened to her.”
Riss’s stomach rolled. “You met Alicia?”
“Aye, I did. She came here like you, wanting answers.”
Riss blinked back tears. “Tell me everything. All of it. I want to know all about my family.”
He grinned. “Well now, Saoirse was studying to be a nurse in Ireland. She had a brother, Connor, who became a copper in New York City. He was killed in the line of duty. Broke your grandparents’ hearts. Made them even more protective of Saoirse. There was a bit of an age gap you see. Connor had to be nigh on ten when Saoirse came along. Bit of a surprise, she was. Your grandparents were delighted. She was the apple of their eye. At least until she showed up pregnant.” He shook his head again. “That was a sad day.”
Riss could only imagine. It must have been a sad and terrifying day for her mother. “How old was she?”
“Maybe twenty?” O'Toole replied. “She’d been having a secret thing with Tommy Dillon. They’d grown up together and he worked down at the docks in Dublin. They’d always had a soft spot for each other. Anyway, I don’t think your mother would’ve come home and told your grandparents if Tommy hadn’t had an accident at work. Fell off a forklift he did and had brain damage. They had to pull the plug on him eventually.”
Riss sat stunned on the sofa. Her father died young from an accident. Her poor mother. “I…does, did he have family?”
“He does but you don’t want nothing to do with them. The Dillons are a bad lot. From the wrong side of the tracks.” He lifted his cup to his lips.
Riss too took a sip of tea. This was all so overwhelming. Her father’s name was Tommy and her mother’s Saoirse. Loving each other since they were kids. Star crossed? Or more probably a quick one-night stand and Tommy hadn’t lived long enough for them to make a go of it.
“Once Tommy was hurt, your mother had no choice but to tell your grandparents. Rumor was she and Tommy were going to run off to America together, but that dream was gone. Your grandfather now, Cillian Fitzgerald, was a man to be reckoned with. Had a wicked temper. He worked the land and had one of the most successful farms in the area. He was well thought of by everyone around, he was. He wasn’t havin’ it with your mother though. He was an old-fashioned sort. He refused to let her have an abortion and since she didn’t have a husband he made her put the babies up for adoption.”
He leaned back in the chair and called for Siobhan again. “Can you freshen up the tea?” She appeared in the doorway. “Miss…?” O’Toole stared at her and she realized they hadn’t formally met.
“Sorry. It’s Riss. Larissa Day.”
