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“I’m not talking about their mother, Dad,” I snapped, pushing the mug away from me. “I’m talking about Joe.”
“Well, when Darren phoned, he asked us to keep Aoife away from the funeral on Monday,” Mam said. “Apparently, Joey is going straight to a rehab facility afterward, and he doesn’t feel that seeing Aoife will be good for him. In case he changes his mind.”
“What the fuck am I?” I demanded, pushing my chair back and standing up. “The devil incarnate?”
Mam sighed heavily. “Aoife…”
“No, Mam, it’s bullshit,” I cried out, hating myself for sounding so weak in that moment. “It’s not fair. I’ve been here the whole time. I didn’t run away. I didn’t check out on Joey. Six years, Mam. For six years, I’ve stayed, and I’ve helped him. I’ve pulled him out of drug dens. I’ve taken needles out of his arm. I’ve begged and borrowed to pay his dealers and keep him safe, and now, because I’m pregnant, Darren’s making it out like I’ve caused Joey’s entire downfall.”
“Jesus Christ,” my father choked out, dropping his head in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us it had gotten that bad?”
“How could I?” I cried. “Look at how you’re reacting now. You would have fired him from the garage and sent him away, and he doesn’t have anyone else!”
“You’re only eighteen,” he bit back, tears filling his eyes. “I don’t want this life for you.”
“He’s only eighteen,” I shot back, trembling. “And he is my life, Dad. He’s my life and I’m his. We’re a family.” My voice broke, and I sucked in a shuddering breath before squeezing out, “He’s the father of my baby, and Darren’s taking him away from me.”
“Aoife, pet, I know you—” The sound of the doorbell ringing pierced through the kitchen, causing my father to pause and frown at the closed kitchen door. “Are you expecting anyone, Trish?”
“No, love,” Mam replied, patting Dad’s hand. “I expect it’ll be young Casey. She usually comes over after work.”
“Aoife?” Kev called from the hallway a few moments later. “I know you don’t want me to speak to you, but there’s a woman at the door for ya.”
“If it’s another fucking reporter looking for a statement, I’ll lose my mind,” Dad snapped, rising to his feet and stalking out of the kitchen.
All week, we had been bombarded with phone calls from local radio stations and reporters coming to the house, looking for a scoop.
We were a small country, which meant that fire was big news in Cork. It had even made the national news, and the media was disgustingly intrusive about it. Casey even heard a rumor that the national news broadcasters planned to attend the funeral. It was beyond insensitive to six children who had just lost both of their parents—shitty as they were.
Dad returned a few minutes later with a familiar blond woman in tow. “Trish,” he said, gesturing for the glamorous blond to join us at the table. “This is Edel Kavanagh.”
“Hello, Trish,” Edel said, offering my mother a soft smile before turning her attention to me. Warm eyes full of sympathy greeted me. “Aoife love, how are you?”
My mouth fell open and I tried to answer, but I couldn’t get the words out. Not when my entire attention was riveted to the small child whose hand she was holding.
“Oh my god,” I cried, practically falling off my chair in my bid to get to him. “Seany!”
“E-fa,” he mumbled around the fingers he was sucking, before releasing himself from Edel and toddling toward me, his little hand covered in its usual slobber. “E-fa.”
“Oh, Seany-boo.” Scooping him up in my arms, I broke down there and then, as a wave of relief washed through me at the sight of his little curly head. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, baby boy.”
“O-ee sad,” he told me, touching my cheek with his hand. “O-ee miss E-fa.”
The fact that he was trying to speak and doing such a good job at articulating himself only made me cry harder. “Yeah, buddy,” I sniffled, burying my face in his neck and soaking in his familiar smell. “Aoife misses Joey, too.”
“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Edel chimed in, taking the seat my mother was offering her. “Thank you.”
“Coffee?”
“I’d love a cup, thanks, Trish.”
“How are the others?” I asked, unable to keep the emotion out of my voice. “And Joe…” Blowing out a shaky breath, I climbed to my feet, taking Seany with me and returned to my seat at the kitchen table. “Is he…doing okay?”
“Thanks, Trish,” Edel said, accepting the mug of steaming coffee my mother handed her, before turning her attention back to me. “Darren, Shannon, Ollie, and Tadhg are doing remarkably well under the circumstances.” She smiled indulgingly at the little guy on my lap. “And Seany here is the sweetest little soul.”
“And Joe?”
She shook her head sadly. “Not as well as the others.”
