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Ollie claps a hand on Róisín’s shoulder. “Don’t want you leaving, Ro, but you need to stop fucking around and go to school. Dunno why you’re wasting your time in this fecking place.”
Róisín turns even redder. “I dunno. I like it here.”
Ollie shakes his head. “Well, if you insist on staying, get back in the kitchen and quit wasting time out here flirting with girls.”
“I wasn’t...” Róisín shakes their head. “It was nice to meet you,” they say to Clara. “Hope you’ll be around for a while.”
“If you keep cooking for me, I don’t think I’ll ever leave,” Clara says.
Róisín tucks their hair behind one ear. “Oh... I... Happy to cook whenever. And the eyeliner thing. Teach you the eyeliner thing, not cook the... eyeliner.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ollie mumbles. He steers Róisín in the direction of the kitchen. When they push through the kitchen doors, I can just hear Ollie saying, “I thought I was teaching you to cook. Don’t tell me I have to teach you how to pick up girls too.”
When Ollie returns a few minutes later, he gives Clara a stern look. “If you’re gonna be a distraction, I’m gonna have to kick you out, you know.”
“Who says I’m a distraction? Maybe I’ll be Róisín’s muse. I’ve always wanted to be someone’s muse.”
“Speaking of muses...” I turn to find Jack settling onto the stool beside me. “I’m here. Let the inspiration flow.”
I look him over. Everything from last night—the phone call, the kiss, him pinning me against the wall—flashes through me again in an instant.
Jack smiles, but his eyes are hesitant. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Is what happened last night a secret? We probably need to talk about it, but when?
“The only thingyouinspire me to do is pull out my hair,” Ollie says to Jack.
Jack hangs his coat beneath the bar with a sigh. “Uh-uh, don’t go blaming me for your thinning hair, big brother.”
Ollie runs a hand through his hair. “My hair’s not... Oh, feck off, Jackie.”
Clara props her cheek in her hand. “How old is Róisín, anyway? They’re cute.”
Ollie laughs and leaves for the kitchen again.
“Twenty-three,” Jack says.
Clara eyes the kitchen door, but all she says is, “Mm.” I’m not sure what that means, and I don’t really want to know the details of my sister’s actual or potential sex life. She sighs, then leans around me to look at Jack. “Cat Dad, are you going to theTitanicExperience with us?”
Jack laughs.
“I wasn’t aware we were going to theTitanicExperience today,” I say.
“You promised! Today is the first day of my new life, and I want to spend it at theTitanicExperience.”
New life?I really need to figure out what Clara’s deal is. And I get the feeling that she’s avoiding being alone with me for some reason. “You want to spend the first day of your new life at a museum dedicated to a horrific tragedy?”
“Mm... yes.” She turns to Jack. “So? Are you coming?”
He looks from Clara to me. “Sure, yeah. So long as you don’t mind. I don’t need to be here until this afternoon anyway.”
“We don’t mind,” Clara says. She hooks her arm around my shoulders and squeezes me tight against her side. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
Clara fills the entire walk to theTitanicExperience with chatter. She looks so much like the Clara I know, those Audrey Hepburn sunglasses over her eyes, the scarf I gave her around her neck, hair neat and tidy. But she’s more upbeat and energetic than she’s been in a long time. It’s as if middle school Clara, the Clara I remember from when we were kids, has been resurrected.
We take Clara to the Deck of Cards, then backtrack around the park across the street so Clara can get the perfect photo of the houses and cathedral. When she stands on tiptoe to hold her phone over the wall, Jack’s fingers lightly brush against mine.
“Hi, ciaróg.”
“How’d you sleep last night?” I ask.
