She took a deep breath and said Bébhinn’s name out loud. Blair normally would have never taken the chance of someone outside her family and friends overhearing her speak, even though it was a testament to her determination to communicate verbally and BSL.
It was only her name, “Bébhinn,” but it showed how anxious Blair was about her friend going off on a hike alone.
She knew they were worried, and more, had every right to be. She was about to tell them that she planned on reading her dad’s letter while she was gone and wanted the privacy of the hike to do that, when Daniel’s voice butted in. She and her friends hadn’t even heard the lumbering know-it-alls arrive. Daniel, Jonathan, Ciar, and their three scantily-dressed “dates.”
“Jon and I think the whole trip is ridiculous, but at least our dads plan on tracking her through a sat phone,” Daniel grinned.
“Mind your own business, O’Faolain,” Mags demanded, standing, putting her at Blair’s side.
Blair quickly signed, because they all learned BSL for her when they were little, “We only worry, but we trust our friend one hundred percent.”
“I was being a whiner that she was going to miss the whole break, but I know she’ll kick that Welsh mountain’s ass,” Gray said as she stood as well.
Unfortunately, Jonathan’s little lady, a heavily made-up Barbie wannabe with fried blonde hair, chose to join the conversation. “Oh wow, the little redheaded girl is deaf, Brit. That’s why her voice sounds so weird.” The other two ladies giggled.
She even covered her stupid mouth with three fingers to “hide” her tittering at Blair’s expense. Bébhinn stood along with Gray, and the four of them turned to stare at the newcomers. Jonathan’s face was bright red, and bless his sweet heart, her youngest cousin looked ready to strangle his date. If Ciar’sjaw were any more clenched, he would surely break teeth, and Daniel… Well, Daniel was all blank-faced fury.
For Blair’s part, she kept her face devoid of emotion, though her fair, freckled skin couldn’t hide the red flush of emotion that swept across every surface not covered by clothes. Blair had been teased as a child and had run into her share of ignorant people as an adult, but this moron was Bébhinn’s first taste of how disgustingly insensitive people could be. It had to hurt Blair. No one was that robotic.
Mags looked ready to commit murder, while Bébhinn was as frozen as Blair. Thank God Gray was still functioning.
Gray cleared her throat, drawing attention away from Blair, and addressed their neighbors’ dates. “If you three ladies,” she stuttered over giving them the moniker of “lady,” but continued, “would like a snack or drink, there’s a full spread just through that door.” She pointed to the doorway that would take them to the magazine-worthy display of snacks and liquor.
Bébhinn, Gray, and Mags forced tight smiles, performing pageant waves indicating the path the women should take.
In her head, Bébhinn referred to the women as #1, #2, and #3. They were all clones and not worth the time of individual introductions. The original Brit, #1, clapped her hands, and squealed in excitement at Gray’s announcement saying, “I hope there’s a bartender. I could use a Cosmo and despise making my own drinks.”
The three idiots all giggled before rushing out of the living room. Thank Christ. Her cousins and Ciar stood frozen, looking at the four friends, probably wishing they’d never made the short trek to come to the girls’ townhouse.
Blair looked Bébhinn’s way, ignoring the men altogether, and signed, “I noticed a section of my misters in the rose garden are down. I’ll be back.”
She was partway to escaping when Jonathan touched her arm and blurted, “Blair.” He sounded as anguished over the encounter with his date as they all felt. Blair didn’t slow or acknowledge her cousin’s entreaty.
Once Blair was clear and there was no sign of the Brits returning, Bébhinn rounded on the three men. “None of us care who you choose to screw, but for fuck’s sake, at least don’t subject us to their disgusting ignorance. The three of us will go help Blair fix the nonexistent problem in her garden while you and your…your dates enjoy yourselves. Text me when you’ve left.” Their flinches were satisfying but not nearly enough.
She felt her body prickle with sweat. Her emotions were riding her hard. “You’re lucky I don’t call Dad and tell him how your dates hurt Blair.” It wasn’t until the words left her mouth that Bébhinn realized what she’d said. There was no calling her dad. Not anymore. She slammed her knuckles against her lips to hold in the agonized whimper that wanted to escape.
Before she could spin on her heel and escape with Blair, Mags hissed, “Get the fuck out,” to the men and at the same time, Gray growled, “Leave.”
four
BÉBHINN
Bébhinn hada four-hour ferry ride to Wales to comb through the gazillion texts and calls from Daniel and Jonathan and several from Ciar Murphy. She ignored the calls. Their texts were harder to disregard.
She got it. The three men and she and her friends were all tight. They’d grown up together, even though her three besties were Scottish. Their families were so close that special events and birthdays were always spent together. So, she hated being at odds with any of them.
Getting into her messages, her eyes widened at the ridiculous overload of texts.
Daniel: I allowed people into your home who hurt you and your friends, Bébhinn. Please, talk to me.
Daniel: I’ll come after you and make you say you forgive me. If you think that’s an idle threat, then you need to remember who my father and grandfather are.
Jonathan: You’re killing me with your silence, Auntie. I’m gutted that I brought someone into your home who hurt Blair.
Jonathan: Call me.
Daniel: Fucking call me, Bébhinn.
