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“Thanks, chickie.” I beamed, momentarily appeased as a wave of pride rolled through me. When time passed by and I didn’t hear back from Hugh’s boss, I assumed I’d been unlucky. However, Kim called this morning to say that I could start during midterm break. It wasn’t big money, and the shifts were every second weekend, but it was a start. “Your girl here is officially on the work ladder.”
“Courtesy of our girl here’s brother,” Lizzie reminded me before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Hugh is always bailing you out.”
“So?” I batted the air with my hand, refusing to let her goad me into another argument. “That’s what big brothers are for.”
“Sinead is going to be thrilled,” Shannon offered, attention flicking between my face and the phone she was discreetly glancing at under the table. No prizes for which particular rugby player was sending her sneaky sex texts. Number 13. Cough, cough. “She’s been wanting you to get a job since your birthday, hasn’t she?”
“Oh yeah, she’s been tormenting me since August.” I nodded in confirmation. “Mam’s always been very serious about both Hugh and I making our own way in life. She’s like ‘Just because you two are in the fortunate position to not have to work until you finish school doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t.’” I took a sip from of chocolatey goodness before continuing. “Hugh got a job as soon as he turned sixteen as well.”
“Lifeguarding, too, right?”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded eagerly. “We’re both fully trained and qualified.”
“Wow.” Shannon leaned back in her chair with an impressed expression etched on her face. “I knew you volunteered at the pool, but I didn’t know you were an actual qualified lifeguard.”
“Yep, I took the test the day after my birthday.”
“Whoa.”
“Meh.” I shrugged and offered her a wink. “Some families produce hurlers.”
“And some produce swimmers,” she filled in with a smile.
“It’s because of what happened when they were kids,” Lizzie said, eyes locked on the rim of her mug. “Because of what happened to him.”
“Gibsie and his family?” Shannon asked in a soft tone.
Lizzie nodded stiffly, but thankfully had the good grace to not toss a mean comment out in this moment.
“It was his First Holy Communion Day, wasn’t it?” Shannon’s blue eyes widened. “You guys were all there?”
“Not me,” Lizzie replied. “Claire and Hugh were.”
“After the accident, Mam put us straight into swimming lessons,” I explained, feeling the familiar wave of sadness settle heavily on my shoulders at the memory. “Dad’s an amazing swimmer, and Mam’s not too bad herself, but she wanted to prepare us.” Repressing a shudder, I tucked a curl behind my ear and smiled across the table at both of them. “It’s an essential life skill to have, and it kind of feels like giving back, you know?”
“Which is why you volunteer at the public pool?”
I shrugged. “Not every family can afford to send their children to swimming lessons,” I explained. “It’s expensive, and you would be horrified if you knew the statistics on accidental drowning in Ireland.”
“Well, we do live on an island.”
“Which is why the government really needs to do something about it,” I urged, drumming my fingers on the table as I spoke. “Swimming should be a compulsory course in primary schools across the country. I mean, algebra won’t save your life, but the breaststroke might. I’ve been writing to the board of education about this since fourth class, but I’ve never gotten a decent response,” I added, scrunching my nose up in disapproval. “Just the usual ‘It’s at the discretion of each individual school’ spiel they’ve been feeding me since forever.”
“I am proud of you for that,” Lizzie interjected, reaching a hand over the table to cover mine. “You must have written at least seventy letters since fourth class.” Smiling, she added, “Your tenacity is admirable.”
“Thanks, Liz,” I replied, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze, earlier tension forgotten, as a momentary glimpse of the girl I’d grown up with shone through the dark cloud that followed her around.
At that exact moment, the glass door of the coffee shop swung open, and in came a familiar face.
“Hey, stranger!” I called out with a wave as my brother’s bestie took in his surroundings with his usual thoughtful blue-eyed gaze before scanning our table and strolling toward us. “I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever.”
“You saw me at school yesterday,” he replied with a smile.
“But you haven’t been over to the house lately.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s been manic on the farm,” Patrick explained. He looked ridiculously hot for a boy dressed in wellies, faded blue jeans, and an old, half-torn white T-shirt. And the rustic wine-pleated overshirt he had on was the perfect icing on a very delectable cake. He was all dark hair, shy smiles, sun-kissed skin, and soulful blue eyes. The perfect recipe for teenage heartbreak. “Hey, Shan. Liz.”
“Hi, Feely.”
