"Okay."
She offers Ronan Brontos. Ronan takes Brontos with the small ceremonial seriousness of a man being introduced to his niece's most important friend, and Ronan says, "He’sa"He’s a fine elephant."
"He’s lived an interesting life."
"I can see that."
And Ronan O'Brien, the brother who doesn’t come to American problems, has just met his niece in a brownstone in Brookline at 2:14 PM on a Thursday in November.
? ? ?
Finn arrives at 2:31 PM.
He comes in behind Cormac without ceremony. He’s the youngest O'Brien, slim, sharp-eyed, in a black coat that looks expensive in the way clothes look expensive on men who have decided not to draw attention to it. The hand he extends to me is missing the index finger up to the second knuckle. The remaining four fingers grip my hand like he’s been shaking hands with one fewer finger for long enough that he’s stopped accommodating for it.
"Mrs. Konstantinos."
"Maeve."
"Maeve. Finn O'Brien. I would have come yesterday but I was in New York closing a thing."
"Cormac told me about you."
Finn's eyes do something small, specific, and quick. Not surprise. Recognition. He says, "He told you about the finger."
"He told me you were taken three years ago. He didn’t give me details."
"There are not many. The Bratva took me on a Tuesday and Lex got me out on a Thursday and I came home with one fewer finger than I left with. The story is not interesting. The point is that we have done this before. The Konstantinos and the O'Brien families. We have done the ‘bringing-people-back’ before, and we are good at it, and your daughter was never going to stay where they put her."
I look at him.
"Thank you, Finn."
"You do not have to thank me. I didn’t pull her out of the car."
"You came."
"I am family."
He says it the way Cormac says things, only quieter, only with the four-finger hand still in mine. Then he releases my hand, walks past me into the living room where his niece is currently introducing his older brother Ronan to a one-eyed elephant, and sits down on the floor beside Cormac to wait his turn for an introduction.
Nora notices the missing finger immediately. Of course she does. She’s a child.
"Where did your finger go."
Finn looks at Lex across the room. Lex looks back. Some Greek Irish telegraph of ‘what do we tell her’ passes between them, and Lex gives the smallest nod, and Finn turns back to Nora.
"It got hurt a long time ago. Before you were born. The doctor took it because it was sick. The rest of my hand is fine."
"Does it hurt."
"Not anymore. It used to."
"Brontos has a hurt trunk."
"Brontos and I have a lot in common."
Nora considers Finn for a long second with the gravity she brings to all important decisions. Then she nods, satisfied, and says, "You are Uncle Finn."
