Page 28 of Finn

I told him about the conversation I’d had with Una a few days prior. “She thinks he is getting ready to turn over a new leaf.”

He snorted. “I think he’s planning something. Or thinks he is.”

“Watch him.”

“I intend to.”

I studied him briefly. “What else?”

He rubbed his forehead. “Mum,” he replied.

I sat up, worried. “What is it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. She sounds odd on the phone. Insists she is fine, but I FaceTimed with her and she looked drawn.”

“Did you call the troublemakers?” I asked, referring to Maggie and Connie, her best friends.

He nodded. “They said she was fine and I was making too much out of a bad day.” He scrubbed his face. “I think they’re lying and in cahoots so as not to worry me. Which worries me more.”

“Call Dr. Watts in the morning and check in. Although, with what we pay him, if he were worried, he would have called.”

Niall drained his glass, looking thoughtful. “You’re right, he would have.”

“But you’re still worried.”

“I am,” he admitted. “She sounded… I don’t know. Different.”

“Fine. I’ll arrange the jet, and you fly there tomorrow.”

“Finn, we have a shit-ton going on right now.”

I shook my head. “Nothing as important as your mum.”

He sighed. “I told her I’d come, and she told me off. Said I was being silly and seeing things not there. She said she was fine and that I caught her on a bad day.”

I frowned. That sounded exactly like Aunt Roisin. We had wanted her to come live here with us, but she refused to leave Ireland. Niall bought her a new house in the same small town, but right on the water—modern and airy, with a garden she loved to putter in. When she refused it at first, stating she would know none of the neighbors, I bought the house beside her and moved her two closest friends in, who’d already shared a house since their husbands had passed. She had settled in well, but her health had been declining the last couple of years. We made sure she had the best care possible and had people keeping an eye on her as much as we could.

“You’re due for a visit anyway,” I pointed out. “It’s been a while.”

He looked out the window. “I hate going back,” he admitted. “I feel as if all my mistakes from my youth are there, waiting for me.”

“You’ve moved past all that shit,” I replied.

“Yet I feel sixteen when I get there.”

I took a sip of my whiskey, knowing exactly what he meant. I rarely went over, but when I did, I felt as if the past were all around me. The only good thing about going was seeing Aunt Roisin, and even that lost its luster after a few days. Niall kept his trips short, and mine were even shorter. But he tried to go twice a year, and I made it a point to go every eighteen months or so. We preferred it when we could convince her to come here. She would stay a month or so then head home, saying she’d had enough of the big city and the noise. The last visit, she’d brought her friends, and it took Niall and me months to recover. Three old Irish women intent on seeing everything they could, regardless of travel, crowds, or time constraints, proved to be a challenge. Never mind their love of whiskey and getting into trouble. I swore it was payback for when Niall and I got into scrapes when we were younger.

“Don’t regret your decision,” I said quietly. “She’s been doing well, but you never know.”

“I wish she would just come here and stay.”

“We both do, but her life is there. Her friends. The shops she knows. The pub. She wouldn’t be happy here long-term, Niall. You know that.” I took another sip. “Any more than you would be happy living there. You’ve changed and outgrown it. She wants nothing to do with the big city other than the occasional visit, but she wants you happy.”

He lifted an eyebrow, and I chuckled. “Us happy. She likes her life there. Let her live it. See what the doctor says and make a decision.”

“I will.” He crossed his ankle over his knee, studying me. “And what were you sitting in the dark thinking of? Or should I say, who?”

“Feck off.”