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Maybe, just maybe, I can do this parent thing.
I find my girls in the lounge with Miren. The sisters are talkin’ while Aine is colourin’ pictures of sea creatures in her book. Her sweet voice is all I needed. The moment I hear her, my chest fills with love I didn’t think I had in me.
Then I look at Callia, and her gaze locks with mine. We’re like positive and negative magnets, findin’ each other no matter what.
“Hey,” she greets me, causin’ Aine to look up and squeal.
She’s gettin’ used ta me already, which is good. The wee thing runs up ta me and wraps her arms around my waist. She’s so small, and I can’t help myself, I lift her high into the air, causin’ her ta giggle. Then I hold her close to me, restin’ my head on her shoulder with my eyes glued to Callia’s, and I know my shinin’ star can tell somethin’s wrong. I’m not sure if it’s the expression on my face that gives it away, or if my girl can really read my mind, but she’s on her feet in seconds.
“Is Monster back?” Miren asks me as she gently rubs circles on Aine’s back.
I nod. “Aye, he’s out the front smokin’. He’ll be in shortly.”
“Thanks, Rebel.” Miren heads outside, and I’m left with my new family. Small, but strong.
I look at Callia who’s starin’ back at me, waitin’ fer me ta speak.
“Let’s sit,” I say to her as I take her hand while still holdin’ onto Aine.
When we settle on the sofa, I have Aine on my lap and Callia beside me. There’s so much love in this room right now, it’s stiflin’ me. I‘ve never experienced an emotion like this before, not the gentle affection that’s now taken hold of me. I’m used to anger and rage. This is all new ta me. But I know it’s good fer me.
“Sooo,” Callia says slowly, “What happened? I can tell it’s not good.” Her voice is tentative. My girl knows me far too well.
“Aye,” I finally answer after a moment of deliberation, tryin’ ta find the right way ta do this.
I look to Aine, and she’s watchin’ me with those wide eyes, filled with innocence. I know I’m about to shatter all those happy thoughts, and that breaks my feckin’ heart.
FIFTEEN
CALLIA
I don’t know what’s happened, but I do know Rebel isn’t happy. The look on his face tells me it’s bad. I’m prayin’ that Orla isn’t dead. The idea of Aine losin’ her ma kicks me right in the gut. I never got ta know my mother, but I still felt her loss when I was growin’ up.
It’s not easy fer any kid ta come ta terms with losin’ a parent, no matter their age. But Aine is still so young. She’ll be heartbroken.
“Aine,” Rebel starts slowly, and she looks at him with wide eyes.
“Is Mam goin’ta come and get me soon?” she asks, and the wonderment written on her face is evidence of how much she’s hopin’ her ma’s comin’ back fer her.
Rebel visibly tenses at her query. Whatever it is that’s happened, it’s bad. It’s so feckin’ bad.
I have ta fight back the tears that burn my eyes. I don’t want her ta see me cryin’. If she does, it will set her off, and I have ta be strong fer Rebel and her. I chose ta be with him, and I’ll stand by him no matter what.
“Yer mammie’s gone away fer a long while,” he starts. “She’s with some friends who are goin’ta look after her. And ye’re goin’ta stay with me and Callia. Okay?”
“But why?” Aine pouts, holdin’ her teddy bear tightly. There are tears formin’ in her eyes, and her bottom lip’s wobblin.
The idea of Orla not comin’ back makes me feel fer the wee girl. Somethin’ about Rebel’s words, though, don’t seem genuine. I’ve known this man fer a long while now, and I can tell when he’s not bein’ completely honest.
“But will she come back again?” The sweet, innocence in her voice tugs at my heart.
“One day, sweetheart,” Rebel says as he pulls her into a hug.
He looks at me and mouths, I’ll tell you everythin’ later. All I can do is nod. We’ve had so much heartache in our lives, and I’ve a feelin’ this is worse than before. I don’t want ta hear any more bad news.
“Let’s colour fer a bit,” I announce, puttin’ on a fake happy smile just ta make Aine feel better. “What page would ye like ta do?” I ask as I flick through her colourin’ book.
I look up ta meet the watery gaze of the little girl whose pout is still evident on her pretty face. She points, and stoppin’ on the page she’s indicated, I set the book down on the carpet in front of us.
