“Come with her, then,” Sam said.
My face was suddenly hot, as if I had sunburn, even though the day was cool and gray. He was here! Slouching beside Jack, wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt promoting some Irish band I’d never heard of.
“I don’t want to impose,” I said. “And Lily... I still have Lily.”
His mouth quirked. “Bring her, too. We can feed the lot of you. Janette always cooks enough for an army.”
I expected Lily to object or at least roll her eyes. But she was staring at Jack, her mouth slightly open. The same way I looked at Sam, probably.
“Please,” Sophie said again.
Why not? A night out could be exactly what they needed. What I needed. So much better than obsessing over Maeve Ward all night.
“I’ll have to text your mom,” I said to Sophie.
Sam smiled.
Somehow, between messaging Glenda and collecting book bags and water bottles, we left without me saying hello to Tim.
—
The Clerys lived above their shop, up a narrow flight of stairs.
“Mam! We’re home!” The younger Clerys crowded through the door.
“This is nice,” I said to Sam. “Cozy.”
Lace curtains at the windows. Overstuffed, comfortable furniture. A scattering of photographs. I felt immediately at home, in spite of the crucifix and the picture of Pope Francis on the wall.
“Bit too cozy, if you ask me.”
I smiled. “Right. Sharing a bathroom. I remember.”
“I’m a big boy. I have my own place now.” Those sea-colored eyes met mine.
My breath suspended. I wasn’t imagining the attraction this time. Was I?
“You must be Sophie. And Dee, is it? Sam texted me you were coming.” A brisk blond woman with her hair in a clip bustled into the room with a stack of plates. “Welcome.”
I tugged self-consciously on my sweater. This wasn’t a date. Sam hadn’t invited me home to meet his mother. (No guy had ever invited me home to meet his parents. Certainly not Gray.) Still, I wished I had brought flowers or baked cookies. Something. “Dee, yes. And this is Lily.” I put on my best visitor smile. “Thank you for having us, Mrs.Clery.”
“Call me Janette. Wipe your feet,” she said to Sam’s brother. “Set the table, and use place mats.”
“Why?” Jack asked.
“Do as you’re told.”
“We have company,” Grace said.
“It’s just Aoife’s friends.”
“She means Sam’s girl, you dope.” Fiadh stood in the door of the kitchen.
Sam’s girl. My heart bumped. “Can I do anything?”
“All taken care of,” Janette said.
“How are you at peeling potatoes?” asked Fiadh.
