“Da, this is Liam McGloughlin.” I pat him on the shoulder. “We were at uni together. He’s in Fireball with Avonna.”
Da’s brow lifts, curious but not unfriendly. Mum’s smile flattens into something unreadable.
Liam offers a calm nod. “Hi, Mrs. O’Donnell. Mr. O’Donnell. Thanks for havin’ me.”
Mum steps aside. “Not a bother. Come in then.”
We sit at the table I grew up around. Mum brings out roast chicken, boiled potatoes, and carrots in butter. She’s pulled out the china, even though I told her this wasn’t a holiday.
Small talk holds the beginning of the meal together. They ask about the move. About the band. Focus mostly on the twins and Avonna’s health. No one asks why Liam’s here, it’s a friendly conversation filled with a bit of slagging and gossip.
Until I set my fork down and say, “There’s something we came here to talk to you about.”
The air shifts. The best way to ensure a quiet Irish household is to say you want to have a conversation.
Mum lowers her water glass. Da yawns, looks at me not unkindly.
“I’m not going to dance around it.” I take a deep breath. “You both know how much Avonna and I love each other. We’ve been married a long time now.”
They nod, cautious.
I look at Liam. Then back to them.
“What you don’t know is Liam and I have a history too. We were together romantically years ago, back in college.”
Mum’s face doesn’t move. Da leans back slightly in his chair, stoic.
“I never stopped loving him,” I attempt to explain. “Somehow, we found our way back. Avonna loves Liam too. He loves both of us. So now, our marriage is the threeof us.”
Mum blinks, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Molly.” Avonna’s voice is steady. “He means we’re in a relationship. All three of us. Liam’s part of us now.”
There’s a silence so deep it drowns the sound of the clock ticking behind me.
“Let me get this straight. You’re sayin’—” Mum’s voice rises. “You’re alltogether?”
“Yes.” I nod. “We’re all together. In every way.”
Mum looks to me, then Avonna, then Liam. “Who’s the father of the babies?”
“Well, you aren’t going to believe this.” I smile at Avonna and Liam. “We’re havin’ twin girls. One is mine. One is Liam’s.”
She goes pale.
Da’s voice is quiet, deadly. “How long has this been goin’ on?”
“Over a year,” I admit. “Liam lived with us in Dublin before we all moved to the States. I was afraid to tell you, but none of us wants to lie anymore. We’re not askin’ for anything. You’re goin’ to be grandparents, so…”
Mum ignores me and turns her gaze on Avonna. “You’re pregnant with two men’s babies? You’re sharin’ your husband? What have you done to myson?”
“I love them both.” Avonna meets her gaze evenly, not rising to the challenge.
Mum’s hands curl around her napkin. “I misjudged you completely. Thought you had more sense.”
“Don’t.” I place my hand on her wrist. “Don’t put this on her.”
“She should’ve kept you satisfied so you wouldn’t give in to some diabolical situation.”
