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“Oh, stop.” Mam grinned. “Where is the lie in that?”
There wasn’t one.
“Fine, I’m dramatic,” I conceded, waving her off. “But Kev is the one starved for your attention.”
“Aoife.” Mam chuckled.
“It’s true,” I argued lightheartedly. “He’s insanely jealous of all the time we’ve been spending together lately. Haven’t you noticed the big cranky head on him? I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a tiny doll version of me in his room with pins sticking out of it.”
“Poor Kev.” She laughed.
“Poor Kev, my ass,” I challenged with a roll of my eyes. “You’ve babied him, Mam, and he can’t handle anyone else having your attention.”
“If I’ve babied Kev, it’s because he needed me to.”
“Ugh.” I faked gagging. “Sure.”
“It’s true. You’ve never needed me the way he has. You’ve always been my wild child,” she continued to tell me. “More challenging than your brother—and more rebellious, too. While Kev has always hidden himself away in the safety of the shade, uncertain and unsure of himself, you, my dear girl, have basked in the sunshine. You refuse to shy away from the world, choosing instead to embrace all that life has to offer.”
“I’m not sure if you’re saying that’s a good thing or not,” I admitted, eyeing her warily.
“It’s a good thing.” Mam chuckled. “Sure, you’ve given me a few gray hairs down through the years, and I’ve had to rein that reckless streak in at times, but you’ve done a wonderful job of managing to find the balance between enjoying your teens and losing yourself in the process. And I’m so proud of you for that, my little darling.”
“Uh, hello? I’m with child, Mam,” I shot back dramatically, gesturing to the tiny swell of my stomach—the swell that looked more like I’d eaten a heavy meal than anything else. “I’m about to make you a grandmother before your forty-fifth birthday. I think it’s safe to say that I haven’t done such a great job of finding the balance in anything—unless you’re referring to my ability to balance on Joey’s dick. In that case, the evidence is all in, and it turns out that I’m a pro.”
“Why would you say that to me?” Mam groaned, covering her face with her hand. “I’m your mother, Aoife. Jesus.”
I shrugged. “I guess that’s my reckless streak rearing its ugly head again, huh, Mam?”
“Yes, well, I’m all for an open and honest discussion with my daughter,” she said with a grimace. “But please consider the fact that I birthed you and have known Joey since he was a boy of twelve. I don’t need the mental image of you balancing on his willy, nor do I need you to delve into any sort of intimate details. Save that kind of talk for Casey.”
“Willy.” I snickered. “Say ‘dick,’ Mam.”
“I will not,” she replied, flushed. “It’s a horrible word.”
“For a wonderful body part.”
“Aoife!”
“Okay, okay.” I held my hands up. “Shutting up now.” Chuckling softly, I looked to Mam and said, “Remember a few years ago when I told you that I would never allow myself to catch crazy deep feelings for a boy?”
“Ah yes.” Mam smiled knowingly. “I seem to remember you insisting that you would never fall in love with Paul, or let any boy, for that matter, cloud your judgment.”
I grimaced. “God, I was such a sanctimonious fool.”
“You believed it at the time.”
“Yeah, I really did.”
“Ah, but Paul Rice was never Joey Lynch, was he?”
That’s for damn sure.
“No.” I exhaled a shaky breath and shook my head. “He wasn’t.”
“It used to make me sad, you know.” Mam took another sip of her latte before adding, “Seeing you with Paul, forcing yourself to feel things I knew you didn’t, while you carried such a strong torch for someone else.”
I winced. “Was it that obvious?”
