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“So, I’m still pissed.”
“Well, she’s not holding on to any of that, Gibs,” he replied. “Trust me, lad.”
“Then I guess I’m still working up to it.”
“Shannon’s over there.”
“Bet little Shannon loves me right now,” I mused. “First, I stole her fella over Christmas, and now he’s spending New Year’s Eve in my room, getting his ass kicked on the PlayStation.”
“We’ll have plenty more Christmases together,” he replied quietly.
“You can go over to her, you know,” I said, giving him the permission he clearly thought he needed. “You don’t have to sit around babysitting my ass for the night because I’m okay, lad.”
He looked at me with that sad look and then quickly blinked it away. “You think this is a pity date?”
I arched a brow. “Well, isn’t it?”
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said, tossing the controller down. “I’ll go across the road and ring in the new year with my girlfriend if you do the same with yours.”
82
New Year’s Eve
CLAIRE
“I’m going to die alone with only my cats for company!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am, Shan,” I declared from my perch under the Christmas tree. Okay, so maybe perch wasn’t an accurate word for being strewn on the flat of my back, in my unicorn onesie, with a deflated party streamer hanging out of my mouth. “I’m already a crazy cat lady.” Sighing dramatically, I reached up and petted Cherub, who was perched on my chest, purring in contentment. At least one of us was happy. “But it was cute when I had a partner in crime.”
“Does that not hurt?” Shannon asked, sounded distracted.
“Oh, indeed it does hurt, Shan,” I replied solemnly. “In fact, I don’t think I remember what it feels like to not have a pain in my heart.”
“Not your heart, Claire. Those kittens are latterly ripping and tearing at your hair,” she laughed, pointing to where Tom, Dick, and Harry were using my curls as kitty toys. “You look like Medusa with your hair splayed everywhere.”
“They’re going through a challenging time,” I explained sadly. “They miss their father.” Another weary sigh escaped me. “You might think it would be me, but nope, Gerard’s the disciplinarian when it comes to dealing with these bad kitties.”
“You know, I have to admit that I never thought about it.” She chuckled and then she snapped up her phone when it vibrated on the arm of the couch.
“Let me guess,” I groaned. “It’s a text from Johnny to wish his little river a happy new year with a ton of smoochy kisses.”
“Actually, it is Johnny.”
“F my life, Cherub,” I whimpered. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“Claire?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s like three minutes to midnight. Do you think we’ll be able to see the fireworks in town from your road?”
“Probably.”
“Oh good.” Stuffing her phone into the front pocket of her dressing gown, Shannon sprang up with a little too much pep in her step, given my existential crisis that was in full swing. “Let’s go outside and watch.”
“Why bother?” I moaned. “We can just watch it on the telly.”
