My heart, visible or not, felt so much lighter. “I don’t want to look back anymore. I don’t even want to think about it anymore.”
“Then don’t. You’ve unburdened yourself. Let it go.”
“I feel better after telling you everything.”
“Ya do?” The sweetest look came over his face as he peeled off the backing of a bandage.
“I do. So much better. I think I just needed to get it all of my chest.”
He placed a gentle kiss on my leg right above my knee and helped me pour myself into a pair of yoga pants. “I love you, Katherine. Please don't ever feel like you can't tell me something. Our relationship needs to be an open book for it to work.”
“I know. You're right. Thank you for understanding.” It felt a little bit like my heart might explode. If I'd known I would feel this way after coming clean, I would've done it much sooner.
An especially loud cacophony of laughter found its way upstairs. “Sounds like we're missing out on the fun.”
“We'd better get down there or we'll never hear the end of it.”
Even after stayingup too late playing charades, I woke on Thanksgiving morning just before seven. Maybe it was my conscience that decided to shake me from my sleep, like a child impossibly excited for Christmas morning. I couldn't remember ever feeling like this, aside from the time I spent in Ireland. My heart was so unburdened it was like being a new person.
I snuggled closer to Eamon, taking his arm and draping it around my waist. “Good morning,” I whispered into his neck.
He hitched a leg over mine and tugged me even closer. “Morning.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“So well that I still am. Sleeping.” He kept his eyes closed.
“Sorry.” I smiled and rolled to my back, looking around my room. Most vestiges of the old me had disappeared. Amy’s kitten posters had been taken down long ago. The aquarium we never took great care of was probably residing in the attic, knowing my dad. Still, there were little things that would always be familiar—the smudge of pink nail polish on the light switch plate or the worn spot on the floor where Amy used to dance while singing into a hairbrush. Those could be my reminders of childhood now. I could reframe it all. Life had gone on after that terrible day. And it hadn't all been terrible. Eamon came after that.
And now Fiona, who flopped over on her bed, her eyes popping open. As I often did with her dad, we had a wordless conversation with eyebrows and mouths. She hated that air mattress. I could see it on her face. I patted my leg and she took my cue, scrambling out of bed. Her bare feet across the wood floors made another familiar sound. She climbed up on our bed and began the process of wedging herself between her father and me.
“Fiona. What in the world are you doing?” Eamon rolled to his back and rubbed his eyes.
She and I laughed conspiratorially. “I’m getting into this big comfy bed with you and Katherine. Now scoot over. Please.”
Eamon grumbled while I relinquished the biggest swath of territory and pulled back the covers so Fiona could climb underneath.
“It's so cozy.” She wiggled like a worm under the blankets.
“Your feet are freezing,” Eamon said.
“Let me move them, then.”
Next thing I knew, her icy toes brushed my calf. “Hey. Why do I get the ice cube feet?”
“Dad complained first.”
“Are these the rules of snuggling?”
She cozied up next to me. “I never thought about the rules. I think we should devise them.”
“We wouldn't want any confusion later.”
“Precisely. Therearethree of us in this bed. Things could definitely get confusing.”
I looked into her eyes, the blue-gray of a stormy summer sky. I'd fallen so in love with her that my chest got tight every time I looked at her. “Where do we start?”
“Everyone must keep their freezing feet to themselves,” Eamon chimed in.
