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Good day.
I was manifesting the hell out of it.
“And stay away from that—”
“Mam,” I warned, cutting her off before she went there. Because I couldn’t go there. Not today. “It’ll be grand.”
“I mean it, young man,” Mam argued. “Play in the sand to your heart’s content but steer clear of the water. Don’t even paddle. Not after what happened last time.”
Last time being Johnny’s birthday back in May. The disastrous camping trip where I’d nearly met my watery grave. Again. Damn Johnny for telling my mam about the whole being thrown in the river incident. She hadn’t slept through the night since, and I would know since I hadn’t slept through the night since I was seven.
“Play in the sand? Paddle?” I gaped at her, feigning outrage, while desperately trying to steer the conversation to safer waters—pun intended. “Jesus Christ, Mam, I’m seventeen, not seven.” Bending down, I snatched up the picnic basket and headed for the door, needing to get out of this house. “Do you want to slap SPF 50 on me and hide me under an umbrella to build sandcastles for the day?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Shannon snickered from behind the hand she was using to bury her smile.
“Hey now, that wasn’t a castle, it was a man-sized fort,” I accused, pointing a finger at her. “And you two were the architects!”
“Yes, we were, Gerard, and you were a wonderful minion.” Claire laughed, catching ahold of my hand and pulling me toward the door, with a snickering Shannon in tow. “Don’t worry about him, Sadhbh. Gerard’s perfectly safe with us.”
“Yeah,” Shannon agreed, playfully slipping her arm through mine. “We’ve got his back.”
“I’ll hold you to that, girls,” Mam called after us. “Look after each other.”
“Always,” all three of us chorused in unison.
“Sadhbh is such a helicopter mam,” Claire cackled when she climbed into the passenger seat of my Ford Focus. “It’s cute.”
Not when I needed her to be. “It’s annoying is what it is,” I offered, climbing into the driver’s seat beside her.
“Well, I think she’s a sweetheart,” Shannon chimed in from the back seat.
“Yeah, a sweetheart with invisible rotor blades attached to her back,” I grumbled, cranking the engine, and tearing away from the house. “The woman is relentless. Guaranteed I’ll have at least three texts on my phone when I park up warning me to stay out of the water.”
“I suppose you can’t blame her for worrying,” Shannon offered quietly. “You know, all things considered.”
“Hmm,” was all I replied, because in all truth, I had no intention of going there today. Good day, good day, good day.
“Sorry, Gibs.”
“For what?” I asked, casting a glance in the rearview mirror.
“For bringing it up,” she replied with a small shrug. “I mean, I of all people should know better.”
“No worries, little Shannon.” I forced a huge smile. “It’s all good.”
A warm hand settled on my lap then and I felt immense comfort. Fuck it, I had no clue how the girl did it, but she could ground me with her fingertip.
One touch and I was okay again.
I could breathe again.
For a little while, at least.
“So, what’s the gossip, girls?” I asked, sick to death of being in my own head. I needed an out. A distraction. Anything but my memories for company. “How was the interview, Claire-Bear?”
“Terrible,” Claire groaned, folding her arms across her chest. “Hugh’s boss is a mean old biddy.”
“So, you didn’t get the job?”
