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“What? You don’t step on another fella like that. Brother or not.” Shrugging unapologetically, Johnny turned to his girlfriend. “I’m sorry, Shan. I know Darren’s your family, baby, and you want to keep the peace. I get it. I do, and you know I’ve got your back no matter what, and I’ve always supported women’s rights to choose for themselves. But if the shoe was on the other foot and he had tried to get you to abort my kid behind my back?” Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know if I could handle it as calmly as your brother here.”
“See,” Joey bit out as he cradled his son in his arms. “He gets it.”
Yeah, I got it, too, but I wasn’t nearly smart enough to throw my two cents into this delicate conversation without making a mess of it. Therefore, I jumped up and rubbed my hands together before saying. “Do you know what I think might help ease the tension in here?”
“Oh god, what?” Shannon groaned, looking almost fearful of what I might say.
“Why don’t you girls scamper off and try on your Halloween costumes for tomorrow night’s party, while Lynchy and Cap handle the Code Brown in that kid’s nappy that everyone is pretending to not be able to smell. Meanwhile, I’ll throw a batch of cookies together.”
“We don’t have eggs.” Aoife sighed. “Dammit.”
“Never fear, blondie,” I replied, rolling up my sleeves. “I’m a man of many talents—one of which happens to be the ability to improvise.”
Joey arched a brow. “Since when did you start baking?”
“Oh, Lynchy, you’re not the only one who leveled up last summer.” I chuckled, moving for the kitchen. “Now, chop chop and change that kid before the smell sticks to my nostrils.”
46
Birthday Cakes and Toe Flicks
CLAIRE
“I’m rich,” I declared with a cheer when I bounced into the Allens’ house on Saturday afternoon. Catching ahold of my work bag, I tossed it next to the cupboard under the stairs with a flourish before dancing into the kitchen. Rusted Root’s “Send Me On My Way” drifted from the radio on top of the microwave, and the song filled my heart with warm childhood nostalgia.
“I had the best first day ever at work, I made forty euro, and I get to go to two birthday parties today!” Pirouetting across the tiles, I toe-danced to the fridge and then tossed in a little toe-flick-toe for good measure. “What a time to be alive!”
“Claire,” Mam acknowledged with an indulging smile, as she rested a hip against the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. “You’re full of beans.”
“Two birthday parties,” I reiterated, snagging a bottle of Gerard’s Sunny D from the fridge. “Today is a good day to be me, Mam.” I turned my attention to the other woman, whose fridge I was looting. “Hi, Mammy Number 2.”
“Hello, Claire, pet,” Sadhbh Allen called over her shoulder as she concentrated on putting the final touches on what I knew was my brother’s birthday cake. Packets of balloons, streamers, and birthday banners littered the kitchen table, a sure sign that the preparations for tonight’s party were in full swing. “It’s hard to believe it, isn’t it, Sinead? That this day eighteen years ago, you were in the throes of labor with our little Hugo boss-man.”
“Jesus, don’t remind me, Sadhbh.” Mam laughed. “Sixty-two hours of labor only to end up having an emergency cesarean section.” Smiling, Mam shook her head before adding, “Pete passed out in theater and chipped his collarbone on the metal tray going down.”
“And Joe ended up sitting at his bedside in the A&E for the night. I remember it well.” With a piping bag of icing in her hands, Sadhbh piped a thin border of blue icing on the cake. “I was only a few months along with Gerard and absolutely petrified of what was to come.”
“Ah, we figured it out along the way, didn’t we?”
“We sure did.”
“Did you use the red velvet base I made?” I asked, watching over her shoulder as she worked on the edible masterpiece.
“I sure did.”
“Yay!”
“The texture was so rich,” she added. “The perfect consistency.”
“You know, it was Gerard who told me to add the vinegar to the batter,” I explained between sips of my juice. “I thought he was crazy, but it was genius.”
“Oh, you should see him at the bakery,” Sadhbh agreed, using the corner of a napkin to clean up the corner of the silver cake board. “He spent the entire summer coming up with new recipes, and I have to tell you girls, each one was better than the last, which is amazing considering he couldn’t turn on a microwave before the summer.”
“It’s in his blood.” Mam smiled. “He’s just like his father.”
“Yeah.” Forcing a smile, I pushed down the pang of grief that hit me when Joe Gibson’s face flashed through my mind. “He is.”
“Where are the boys?” Mam asked, thankfully giving me an out from my depressing memories. “At home getting ready for tonight?”
