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“Hope has nothing to do with it in this instance,” my friend assured me. “Thor’s been wasting your time for years now. It’s time to move on and stop waiting for him to throw you a bone.”
“Ouch, Liz.” I winced. “Tone down the bitchiness, will you?”
“Sorry,” she conceded with a shrug. “It’s not directed toward you, I promise.”
“I know,” I replied. But it still hurts. “He’s a good person.”
Silence.
“He is, Lizzie.”
More silence.
Resigned, I exhaled a heavy sigh and snatched a random pair of fancy knickers off the rail in front of me. “Oh look, what every girl needs in her wardrobe,” I grimaced. “Crotchless knickers.”
“Maybe we should slip them into Shannon’s basket,” Lizzie joked, pointing to where Shannon was browsing the Halloween section with her foster mam. “And see what Mrs. Kavanagh says when they ring up their stuff at the till.”
“Can you imagine?” I snickered. “She would blow a head gasket.”
“I know. I would pay good money to see it.”
“They look kind of nice, though.”
“What?”
“These crotchless knickers.”
“Oh my god, Claire,” Lizzie laughed. “Put down the knickers and step away from the rail.”
When I turned back, I spotted Shannon and Edel at the counter paying. Edel had her arm wrapped around my friend’s shoulder as Shannon showed her something on her phone.
“Can you imagine having to live with your boyfriend’s mam?”
“I think it’s perfect for Shan,” Lizzie replied.
“Me too,” I agreed, still smiling. “She needs the stability.”
“And Captain Fantastic is nothing if not stable.”
“True,” I agreed, watching my bestie embrace her foster mam with a side hug. Laden down with shopping bags, Edel Kavanagh pressed a kiss to Shannon’s head and smiled dotingly at her.
She would be okay.
I didn’t need any other validation.
Shannon had been born to be a Kavanagh.
_______________
“Are you serious?” I asked later during dinner, completely engrossed in the story Edel Kavanagh was telling us. “You really lived with Daddy K when you were a teenager?”
“I sure did, love.”
“So, it’s like history repeating itself,” I mused, popping another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. “You and John Sr. Shannon and Johnny.” I sighed dreamily. “It’s like fate.”
“Or bad parenting,” Lizzie muttered under her breath.
“Liz!” I elbowed her. “Filter.”
