There was no ignoring his dad, apparently. Turning the gravy to low, he turned.
“Yes?”
“I see you are wanting to test me this morning. Consider me unimpressed.”
“Fine. What would you like to say to me?” Even Patrick knew he was pushing his dad’s patience, but for fuck’s sake, he was in the middle of a self-made crisis.
“River.” Pat flinched. “Tell me.”
Oh God. Patrick should have known. His dad missed nothing when it came to his boys. Sonofabitch, he should have talked to him before now.
“I fucked up with her, Dad.”
“How far has it gone, Son?”
Patrick pressed his fingers against his eyes, trying to relieve the building pressure. Knowing his dad would always love him helped him get the story out. He told him everything. The nonstop texting, always calling her, loving her laugh, loving her smile, loving... everything about her.
Pat admitted he went too far in Dublin, asking her not to date. He admitted to trying to stay away from her. Admitted it wasn’t working. Admitted to hurting her feelings with his on and off again bullshit. Admitted to kissing her at the gala. Admitted to leaving her alone and confused after the kiss. Admitted to avoiding her since then. Admitted hating that he wanted her to be only his but knowing he wasn’t ready for that type of commitment.
Admitted to feeling utterly and totally lost.
His dad was silent for a moment. One of his best and most irritating qualities was that Hugh O’Faolain thought about every word before he spoke it, and he never spoke until he was good and ready. Patrick waited.
“It’s Christmas. Not ideal. We are spending New Year’s at Wolves and heading to Dublin two days after that. Again, not ideal timing.”
“Not ideal for what?”
“Once we’re back in Dublin, you are going to sit down with River and explain you have commitment issues. You need counseling, Patrick. I think your mother skewed your thinking.” Dad raised his hand to stop him from interrupting. “Hell, I don’t think. I know she did because she screwed up your brother and— me. So, you’ll explain. She’ll wait for you to get your shit together, or she won’t. You don’t like hurting her, so stop fucking doing it.
“Use your words. She will hear you. Maybe you should try to talk to her before going to Dublin. I don’t know. That’s up to you, but do not let this continue as it has. You’re hurting River, but you’re also hurting yourself.” At this pronouncement, his dad put his bear paws on each of Pat’s shoulders and leaned in close. “And I won’t tolerate you hurting yourself. Are we clear?”
Wow. Intense. “Clear.” Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Pat added, “Thank you, Dad.” He only nodded and left the kitchen without another word. Well, he didn’t know about the counseling thing, but he did owe it to River to be honest.
Before they left Oklahoma or after was the question.
* * *
It was Christmas morning,and River was trying her best to put on a brave face— and make it stick. She and Patrick had managed to avoid each other since yesterday. Small mercies. River snuck out of her second-floor bedroom and made it downstairs without her sisters hearing or seeing her. She knew a reckoning with them was coming. Just please, God, not today. On Christmas. She heard Matilda and Nan scaping the dining room table and headed in that direction.
“Oh wow, this looks amazing, you guys! Holy shit, these pinecones are flipping huge.” River picked up the eight-inch cone in wonder.
“Language, young lady,” Nan scolded. Matilda just smiled and gave River a wink.
“Patrick’s in the kitchen cooking breakfast if you want to go see what’s left to do,” Matilda suggested.
River fumbled the pinecone, earning a sharp look from her grandma. That woman was way too intuitive. “Oh, I’m sure he’s got breakfast under control. I thought I’d help you guys finish the table.”
“Mmm, sure, sweetheart.” Matilda was also too sharp.
Hugh walked into the dining room, glower in place. He surprised the shit out of River by walking straight to his mom and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mother.” River saw Matilda blink furiously before wishing him a Merry Christmas too. River saw Nan turn quickly before anyone saw how Hugh’s sweetness affected her. Damn, how she must miss her own men desperately at times like this.
Hugh, proving he was as amazing as his mother thought him to be, circled the table and placed a kiss on Nan’s cheek. “And Merry Christmas to you as well, Bébhinn.”
Nan couldn’t hide her slight sniffle as she patted Hugh’s cheek and softly said, “So sweet.” Hugh... sweet... will wonders never cease. River caught his eye and mouthed thank you. Hugh nodded in acknowledgment and left the room. Hugh was Shrek. There were so many, many layers to that onion.
River could hear her sisters and Bran descending the stairs.
Game face engaged.
