AllFreeNovel
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We focused on building a solid relationship, which was much easier after my semester ended. We spent a lot of time talking and experiencing all kinds of firsts with Finn together, like meeting Santa—hated it—and his first hot chocolate—loved it. We decorated our real Christmas tree, and she convinced me to make a hand puppet—my snowman was not any better than theirs.
So, it shouldn’t have surprised me when she’d wrapped her arm around my waist while we’d lain in bed a few days ago after putting Finn down, but I’d been pleasantly startled when she asked, “Is your invitation still open to go home with you?”
I had pressed my answer into a kiss against her mouth. And then lower.
Now, we were on our way to Boston in my car with four bags of gifts, three packed snacks, two suitcases, and a partridge in a pear tree.
It was okay, for the most part, and we only had to make two stops. Finn slept for a few hours, leaving Kennedy and me to chat about our childhoods. We discussed memories of our fathers. Hers was tall and dark-haired and, apparently, a doting husband and father. I told her how mine was gruff but loving, in a silent sort of way, never one to be physically and verbally effusive. But we’d all felt it, his support and protection. It was why Seamus felt the need to assume the role of taking care of the family. The only problem was he went about it in all the wrong ways. He’d been arrested for illegal betting and aggravated assault, and when he was finally let out of prison after a year, he’d found himself back behind bars a few months later. But he'd eventually found himself a job welding and walked the straight and narrow now, especially after he’d met his wife and her daughters. I explained that Brian was currently living with Mom after a divorce, and that Collin was the wild child of the family. We never knew what he would do next, where or when he might pop up. He never responded to our group text message about Christmas.
My family was a lot, but I didn’t want her to be surprised by anything, including the cursing and possible arguments.
“You ready?” I asked as we pulled over in front of my childhood home, the beat-up corner twin in historic South Boston, only two blocks from the water. And it showed on the house, the peeling blue paint and crusted-over shutters. Brian had said he was going to be helping Mom out with redoing it, but he needed to pick it up a bit. Looked like shit, including the tiny patch of grass next to the brick steps that needed a good power-washing.
Not to mention, someone had made Mom’s reindeer look like they were mounting each other. Probably some little neighborhood asshole.
Kennedy plucked at her sweater. “I’m a little nervous.”
“You’ll be fine. Besides, it should only be my mom and Brian tonight.”
She nodded and slipped into her coat, the weather up here a lot nippier than Pennsylvania. As I pulled everything out of the hatchback to pile on the porch, she got Finn out of his seat, and together we stood in front of the dark-stained wood door, decorated with a gigantic wreath.
Before I could even knock, it opened. My mother shrieked and pulled me into her. “My baby!”
“Hey, Ma,” I said, once she finally let me get away to nudge Finn forward.
My mother picked him up, smothering him so hard, his glasses skewed sideways. He kicked at her until she put him down, and I motioned to Kennedy. But, of course, Mom attacked her just as hard.
Kennedy laughed. “Hi, Mrs. O’Neil.”
“Call me Eileen!” Mom took Kennedy’s face between her hands. “Look at how gorgeous you are. Come in, come in.” She towed Kennedy inside the house. “Cold as shit outside. Come on!”
Finn ran to the tree in the corner as I carried our bags in, noting how there was no hallway anymore, but one big open floor plan. So, Brian was doing something.
By the time I finished with the suitcases and looked up, Finn had his coat thrown on the floor and was lying on his belly, playing with Nativity figurines, while Mom held both of Kennedy’s hands, talking a mile a minute about the house, the new bright-yellow color on the walls, and pointing out different photos and people in them.
“Hey,” I said, unzipping my coat, “you know some little asshole messed with your decorations? Made it look like?—”
“Some little asshole.” Mom pointed to my younger brother as he entered from the door at the back of the house into the kitchen.
Collin raised his hand to me, grinning. “Thought I heard Mom screaming. Figured her favorite son had returned.”
“Brian’s the favorite. I’m only the smartest,” I said, earning a snort. We met halfway for a backslapping hug. “You out having a smoke?”
He nodded, running his hands through his chin-length hair, then pushed the sleeves of his thick sweater up to his elbows, before opening his arms to Kennedy. “You must be the girl.”
“Kennedy,” I said, not hiding the edge in my voice.
She accepted his hug, and I didn’t like the way he looked her over from head to toe. It was no secret he slept his way around the globe, but he wasn’t going to be sleeping with Kennedy.
“You must be Collin,” she said, all sugar and spice.
“How’d you know?” He slanted his head to the side, offering her the smile that I was sure had a lot of women falling to their knees. Not mine.
“The forearm knife tattoo, the straggly hair, the cocky swagger…screams chef.”
He rubbed his palm over his jaw, smiling good-naturedly. “Hey, baby, long as somebody’s screaming something, I don’t care. Though I’d prefer it to be you.”
“Don’t be gross,” Mom said, batting at him, and Kennedy moved to stand at my side.
