“You did it for Mam and Da—with me.”
“I’ll do it for your family as well, but we didn’t spend all this time plannin’ for your death, Cian Cillian O’Callaghan. We planned this for you to have a life after Oran Craig. You’re your Da’s son. I want what’s best for you, just like he did.” He stared forward, watchin’ as the snow swirled in the darkness. He cleared his throat. “Mona dream-hopped. She’d mostly go to Fiona, cryin’ about her boy, wantin’ what was best for him. After Maeve…she stopped comin’ around as much. Maeve gave you some peace, and therefore your Mam. But I feel your Da lately. He’s been around. He knows you’re not as focused as before. As hungry. He’s unsettled. It’s my place to keep your boots on the ground here and outta that grave.”
Silence froze between us, and the only sounds to challenge it were the moanin’ of the wind and cars drivin’ by on the wet roads.
I cleared my throat, shatterin’ the quiet. “My head is fucked. I keep hearin’ my parents cryin’ from the grave from the past, and my wife’s voice askin’ me not to leave in the present.”
“Love makes us human, lad. That’s why so many men like us refuse to fall prey to it.” He sighed, wipin’ a hand down his face. “Hard priorities soften when our hearts do. It’s a vulnerability that can cost us everythin’ if we can’t figure out how to keep each life separate, but present in both. I’ve been watchin’ ever since Maeve came into your life. You’ve figured it out. You’re more careful about your steps now. The Beast of Boston walks more quietly.”
“Fiona makes you human.” I didn’t pose it as a question. I refused to let him wriggle out of this. I started the car, put it in gear, and smoothly pulled away from Oran’s house.
Keenan sighed. “I know you’re just gettin’ used to the etiquette when it comes to conversations, but there’s a time to be quiet and a time to talk. We passed the time to talk.”
“You’re skirtin’ around the truth.”
“I’m not fuckin’ skirtin’ around anythin’. It’s just none of your business, is all.”
I poked him in the shoulder. He whipped his head to mine and narrowed his eyes.
“Touched that vulnerable spot?” I roared with laughter.
He started cursin’ under his breath, going on about manners and him bein’ my elder. He complained all the way to Maeve’s old place, the one she lived at with Pauric. He grew quiet as I put the car in park and prepared to get out. He put a hand on my shoulder when I cracked the door. The lights came on and I shut it.
“What is it?”
“Fiona,” he said. “Better just tell you now. I’ve always been in love with her. There. I said it. Truth set free and air cleared.” He rushed out of the car, the cold air surgin’ inside, before he shut the door.
I grinned and shook my head as I followed him out. He’d admitted that to me like a man who was admittin’ defeat. I didn’t need to know specifics. That was between them. But lookin’ back, there were things I’d probably missed between them, not recognizin’ them for what they were.
A look here.
A touch there.
Feelin’s.
My feelin’s for Maeve had put the truth to the actions—two people who felt deeply for each other.
He stopped close to the door of the apartment and turned to face me. “What are we doin’ here, lad?”
I shrugged. “I just wanted to see where she lived before me.”
As soon as I opened the door, the scent of her seemed to welcome me inside, includin’ the undertone of shaved wood that was always present. The place was old, but in good condition. It also had plenty of marks left by Pauric. Some areas seemed to be touched by a mad inventor.
Keenan and I both stopped in their woodworkin’ room. Pauric hadn’t sent her all the figurines she’d been workin’ on. Some of them were stained. Others hand painted. Maeve’s work stood apart from Pauric’s. Even though his were good, hers were above top notch. She gave the faces whimsical details that made them come alive.
It made my chest feel hollow to leave behind the ones he didn’t send.
“Grab that empty box there.” I nodded to it.
Keenan handed it to me, and as delicately as I could, I started standin’ them up in the box, one by one. I set it to the side and then took a seat. Keenan took another one and crossed one leg over the other.
He looked around. “So many fuckin’ clocks,” he whispered. “It’s like time is pushin’ in on us here.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Like you can feel the seconds tick by.”
“Feel them? Hear them.”
Click. Clock. Click. Clock.
