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“Yes, I will,” I shot back. “I’ll buy all non-iron clothes for the baby to wear.”
“And who, may I ask, will iron your clothes?”
I rolled my eyes. “My mother, obviously.”
“Oh, Aoife, you do make me smile.” Mam chuckled. “You’re going to be okay, love. You truly are.”
“I hope you’re right, Mam,” I replied. “I really do.”
“Joey is going to be okay, too,” she added. “You both are.” Mam gave me another one of those perceptive smiles. “Do you want to know how I know this?”
“Pray tell, sensei.”
“Because your baby’s father might be as pigheaded and stubborn as you are when it comes to admitting his feelings, but his heart has never once wandered from you, either.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t know that, Mam.”
“I do know that,” she corrected in a soft tone. “Aside from the fact that I’ve watched you both grow up and have firsthand experience of the kinds of qualities you both possess, I also happen to possess a pair of eyes—and ears—of my own that are in perfect working order.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that when you peel back all the layers of yours and Joey’s relationship, taking the flirting, raging hormones, and the physical aspect out of the equation, there’s a rock-solid foundation underneath,” she told me. “One that’s based on friendship, and respect, and trust.” Smiling fondly, she recrossed her ankles, switching them up, and leaned forward in her seat. “He’s your friend, Aoife, and you’re his. Never mind loving one another, that’s the easy part, you and Joey like each other. You enjoy one another’s company, and I can promise you that all of those wonderful aspects of your relationship, all of those effortless conversations you find yourself having with him, or all of the content spells of silence you spend in one another’s company, will only strengthen your ability to stand the test of time. And more crucially, the test of parenthood.”
“You really think that?”
“I do,” she replied, giving me a reassuring smile. “And remember, Mother knows best.”
47
Think about Your Future
JOEY
“Joey.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Joey.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Joey.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Joey!”
Releasing a pained groan, I slowly blinked awake, feeling an abnormal amount of weight pushing down on the middle of my back, as I faceplanted on my mattress.
The weight continued to bounce up and down on my back, and I slowly registered the weight as my baby brother. “O-ee. O-ee.”
“Fuck, Seany-boo,” I groaned, snaking a hand out from under my head and grabbing a pillow. “Stop jumping on my back, kid. I’m dying here.”
Covering the back of my head with the pillow, I tried and failed to drown out the noise attacking my senses from all angles.
“Sean, go downstairs and play with Ollie.” Mam’s familiar voice drilled through my mind and I stiffened, body coiling tight with tension. “I need to talk to your brother.”
Sean had another three good bounces on my back before obliging our mother and toddling away.
