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“Do you?”
I shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re dumb.”
“How’d you figure?” I laughed.
“Because you should be deliriously happy,” she explained. “Not worrying about who he’s been with in the past. Those girls are in the past for a reason, Aoife.” Waggling her brows, she added, “Besides, I sincerely doubt Danielle Long ever rocked his world in the front seat of a Range Rover.”
I smirked. “True.”
“Besides, Danielle might have been his first bang, but you’re his first love,” she added, bumping hips with me. “Trust me, that leaves one hell of a residual mark on a boy.”
“Well, he’s left his mark on me, Case.”
“Yeah,” my best friend agreed, giving me a peculiar look.
“What?” I asked, unsettled by the way she was looking at me. “What’s with the face?”
“Nothing, I just thought you had more to add,” she replied, still looking intently at me. “Because you can tell me anything, Aoife.”
“I know.” I smiled. “Right back at you, Case.”
23
Ho, Ho, Ho, Joe
JOEY
“Who’s up for Chinese?” my father announced in a jovial tone when he sauntered into the kitchen late Saturday evening with two brown paper bags in his arms. “My numbers came up at the bookie’s and there’s plenty for everyone.”
With the plastic peeling from a shop-bought frozen lasagna in my hands, I watched as my mother and siblings all filed into the kitchen after him.
“Come on, boy,” he said, slapping the bags down on the table, while my mother hovered close by with a stack of plates. “Throw that shit away,” he commanded, waving a hand toward me. “There’s a chicken curry in here for you, too.”
Doing the complete opposite, I walked over to the bin, tossed the plastic inside, and then returned to place my lasagna in the oven, ignoring the swell of bitterness that rose as I watched the rest of my family—Shannon included—line up with their plates like a scene straight from 1840s Ireland.
Don’t be so fucking weak, I wanted to scream. His soup kitchen has consequences.
“Didn’t ya hear me, boy?” Dad barked as they all took up positions around the table like a big, happy family.
“I heard you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” He kicked out a chair for me to join them. “Grab a plate and sit down.”
“I don’t want any.”
“Ah, go on, will ya? You need to bulk up a bit, boy.”
“I said I don’t want your food.”
“Why not?”
“Because it comes with strings attached, and I’d rather starve.”
“Joey.” Mam dropped her fork and sighed. “Please. Don’t start trouble. Your father is trying.”
Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.
