They’re fantastic fucking kids, all things considered.
Rosie passes Pumpkin back to Niamh, and she immediately hands her over to my nephew, helping him adjust his arms so the baby can sit right in them without falling. The cat’s loving it, the sound of its purrs filling the room as we watch the three of them on the floor.
“Pet her right here,” Niamh shows Caleb a spot behind Pumpkin’s ear and it’s like a button for the cat. She immediately curls in deeper to Caleb, going soft and closing her eyes.
“She’s so cute,” Caleb whispers as if afraid he’ll wake her.
They do that for a couple more minutes, but eventually they have to let Pumpkin go so the kids can eat. Niamh takes the cat out to the bed she’s set up in the living room and comes back to take her spot at my side.
She keeps her eyes to herself now, but from beneath the table, something nudges against my foot, and I swear my heart drops into my stomach. A subtle glance under shows her booted foot pressed up against mine, and I feel like I just won the whole damn world.
“What’s up with your face?” Remy hollers over the table, staring at me hard.
“Remy,” Silas scolds.
Niamh snorts beside me, using her hair as a curtain to shield her face from me. Damn, I feel like I’m fucking blushing. There’s a foreign burn on my cheeks, and my scalp is prickling.
Picking up a green bean from my plate, I launch it across the table. The long, stringy vegetable hits my youngest brother right in the middle of the forehead, leaving a buttery, grease spot on his skin. He snaps back in his chair as if he just got shot before his mouth drops open in shock.
“Did you just throw a fucking green bean at my head!?”
Rosie gasps at his side. “Uncle Remy said a bad word!”
“Remy,” Silas scolds for the second time in less than a minute.
“He needs a time-out,” Rosie says matter-of-factly. “I get a time-out when I say a bad word.”
Niamh’s shoulders are shaking, her head bent toward the table, still with her hair as a shield to cover her face. My hand moves on its own, reaching to tuck it behind her ear.
“I want to see that.” I tell her when she snaps her head toward me.
Remy makes a gagging noise. “Get a room!”
“Remy!”And there’s the third telling off.
The rest of dinner goes just how it started, with a lot of ribbing from Remy, a lot of scolding from Silas and me trying to sneak glances at the woman sitting beside me. Even Caleb is laughing.
It feels good after the heaviness of the past few days.
When dinner is done, Niamh and Remy take cleanup duty while Silas and I wrangle the kids into the living room to try and calm them down after all that activity.
“Is she staying?” Caleb settles on the couch beside me, a book in his lap.
“Niamh?” I look down at him.
He nods, blinking eyes that match my brothers.
“I hope so,” I admit.
“I think I like her,” He sighs.
“You think?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good, buddy. I think I like her too.”
“Well, duh,” My nephew rolls his eyes like he’s the wisest one in this room, “You married her.”
