“Laugh all you want, brother,” Cal drawled. “But you’ll be laughing on the other side of your face when Ma finds out about the newest member of the family.” He nodded toward the phone. “You’d better start the show. I can’t wait for this.”
His words made my gut churn, but I knew I had to bite the bullet because putting it off wouldn’t change what lay ahead.
I picked up the cell phone, found Ma’s number, and gingerly clicked the call button before putting it on speaker.
The sound of ringing filled the room, and then the call clicked in, and Mam’s voice demanded, “Where are you, Son? I went by the bar earlier, and Adam said you’d been called away. You’re supposed to be on a flight.”
“Mam,” I croaked, suddenly emotional at the sound of her voice. “It’s Donovan. We’re in Nebraska.”
“Well, what the feck are you doing in Nebraska?” she demanded. “And why have you got your brother’s phone? As God is my witness, you’re far too old to be flitting off here and there, Donovan O’Shea. But I tell you what you’re not too old for... the wooden spoon. Now get your arse back here; you’re supposed to be looking after the bar.”
“I’m with Callum and Maeve,” I told her, my tone flat.
There was a brief silence, then mam quietly snarled, “What?”
“Hiya, Maureen,” Maeve sang.
“Oh, love, you’re there,” Ma murmured, relief evident in her tone. “Can you tell me what the hell’s going on? I’m getting no sense out of this fecker.”
“I had a phone call from Family Services in Nebraska earlier today looking for Callum,” I explained. “I caught him just before he and Maeve boarded their flight. He called the social worker back, but it turned out it wasn’t Callum they wanted; it was me.”
Another brief silence ensued, and Mam asked, “Son. Spit it out, will you?”
I took a deep breath and just blurted out, “Mam. I have a daughter.”
More silence, but that time it wasn’t brief. In fact, it went on so long that I began to worry that I’d finally done it and given my mam a stroke.
“Are you okay, Maureen?” Maeve asked, chewing her lip nervously.
That was when Ma began chuntering.
“Mary, mother of Jesus, won’t you deliver me? I swear to Jesus and all of the angels, I knew one day my boys would be the death of me.” Her voice went breathy. “I need to sit down.”
“Maureen,” Maeve said softly.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Mam fretted. “Sweet, sweet baby Jesus.”
“Mammy,” Maeve said again. “Listen.”
Ma stopped chanting for sweet Jesus and in a small voice asked, “What is it, love?”
“She’s beautiful,” Maeve whispered. “Her name’s Imogen and she’s just darling. The poor angel lost her mother to drugs, so she’s got nobody left in the world except for us.”
I heard Mam suck in a deep breath, and then she let out a quiet sob.
Tears filled Maeve’s eyes. “She’s nine months old with pretty blonde hair and curls, and guess what else?”
“What?” Mam breathed.
“She’s got Donovan’s eyes.” Maeve smiled. “Maureen, she’s the most beautiful child in the world. She could be a baby model in the magazines.”
“Really?” Mam asked quietly.
“Yes, really,” my sister-in-law responded. “She’s just perfect. You’re going to fall in love with her just like we all have.”
After a pause, Ma declared, “Well, if I’m honest, it doesn’t surprise me whatsoever. Donovan was a beautiful child, and so was Aislynn. I used to get stopped in the street by people telling me I had gorgeous children. It drove their da batty.”
I stared at Maeve and grinned my thanks.
