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“That’s the spirit, sister-cousin-mother,” I joked, my grin widening as Aurelia let out a soft laugh at the use of our long-standing inside joke.
“Thank you sister-cousin-daughter, for doing this for us even though you’re going through the roughest time today.” Aurelia squeezed my hand and together we moved to the edge of the bridge and watched as the last bundle of lilies fell into the water and was gone in a whoosh.
“That’s that then,” I said, feeling lighter than I had when we walked onto this bridge. “Now, who wants to go to a wake?”
“Do you want me to open it?” Wiz asked as I stood on the little front stoop and stared at the black-painted door that I hadn’t walked through since I was twelve years old.
I shook my head and held up the key again. “No, I just need a moment.”
The rest of my family was waiting at the bottom of the steps and I could hear Birdy and Theo starting to get fussy as I waffled about unlocking the door to Finneas’s house so that we could go in and set up for the wake.
Finally, I sucked in a calming breath and put the key in the lock and opened the door.
My last memories of this place had been unpleasant to say the least and I wasn’t sure what we’d been walking into.
Before Mam came back to get me, Finneas had let the house fall into disarray. It had been messy and dingy, the yellow wallpaper on the walls peeling because he never had the energy to replace them between his bouts of drinking.
But the house I stepped into now was a far cry from those memories.
For one it was completely clean in a lived-in sort of way, all of the furniture second hand but well taken care of.
Then there were the photos on the walls.
Finneas had ripped them all down in a fit of rage a few days after Mam left, but they were back up now in new frames. Pictures of me, Mam, and the three of us as we grinned cheekily at the camera.
A little meow came from under the couch as an orange cat crawled out.
I crouched down to give him scratches, pleased when he started to purr.
“Orla told me all about you,” I whispered to him. “Riley, isn’t it?”
The cat let out another plaintive meow before he seemed to realize that it was more than just me coming into the house. Then he was off like a rocket, scurrying up the stairs and out of sight.
“Ciara,” Colt said as he stepped inside of the house, his phone to his ear. “What time do you want food delivered?”
He’d taken over as soon as he saw how overwhelmed I was by the wake as I’d never actually planned one and it was the one thing Finneas hadn’t left instructions for.
“An hour or so?” I wasn’t sure how many people would actually show up, but if they did there would be something for them to eat at least.
As the rest of the family settled in, chatting and laughing amongst themselves, I slipped upstairs by myself.
I’d been putting off coming here ever since we came to Ireland, worried that the memories would be too much and send me into a spiral that I didn’t need on top of everything else.
But there was no avoiding it now.
My childhood bedroom door was shut, but the sign my mam had painted declaring it as my room still hung on it. The flowers had faded over time, but her handwriting was still clear as I reached up to touch it.
Gripping the door handle, I slowly opened the door and gasped because it looked exactly the same as I’d left it.
Someone had clearly come in and dusted things pretty regularly, but everything was just as it had been fifteen years ago down to the red hooded jumper hanging on the bedpost.
Stepping inside, I let the door swing shut behind me as I skimmed my fingers over the cream duvet that I could still remember going to the shop to pick out with my mam.
I’d wanted a bright purple one, but she’d insisted that I would thank her in a few years when I wanted a more grown-up set.
She would have been right, of course, because only a year later in Minnesota I refused to use any sheets or blankets that seemed too babyish.
Even the old television that I’d sat in front of and watched my movies every day was still sitting on my dresser.
