I didn’t always hate him. I loved him. He adored me. It ended abruptly and his downfall affected me in horrific ways. I’d buried all the good stuff. Until recently, I didn’t know how to access anything but the trauma.
In therapy, many of the techniques were similar to those Avonna used. Even though I’ve stopped going regularly, she’s helped me immensely, reminding me how the body stores pain like a knot you didn’t know you’d tied and healing isn’t about rewinding, it’s about reclaiming.
When I breathe with her and live in truth. I feel it. The missing piece. Safety I never had. It was all right in front of me and I teetered on self-destruction for years. I refused to allow myself any happiness. Punished myself for no reason.
“Liam?
I snap back to focus.
“Where’s Linus today?” Da cups Quinn’s head and sways back and forth.
“Switzerland.” I lean back on the sofa. “He’ll be home Tuesday.”
Da nods. His voice lowers. “How you holdin’ up?”
“Depends on the day.” My laugh is short and broken. “Lately, I’ve wondered how the fuck I ended up jugglin’ burp cloths and bottles instead of gear and busses.”
Ma overhears and smiles. “Some dreams change shape, love.”
“Rory.” Avonna pops up. “Watch Quinn’s head. Support her neck.”
Da’s already doing it but he makes a show of appeasing her. “Aye, thanks for the reminder, love,” he trills in his Belfast lilt.
Sloane stirs so I pick her up and settle back onto the couch, arms full of tiny weight and huge responsibility. I swear, every moment feels like a new universe I’m terrified to fuck up.
“Padraig’s pissed.” I nuzzle Sloane’s hair. “He’s used to me drivin’ relentlessly and I can’t even fathom it. We’ve got to get an album out, though, and we haven’t written a song in months. The studio date on the calendar is getting closer and I won’t be ready.”
Truth be told, we could’ve stayed in LA. In many ways, it would have been easier. Linus’s business is mostly there and he’d be with us a lot more often. During therapy, the three of us decided healing the relationship with my own family was a priority. With the babies on the way, the three of us decided as a family it was important to face my past head on. Be around my brothers. Spend time with Ma.
Sit across from my Da and say words I never thought would come out of my mouth.I love you. I want to try.
So we made Seattle home. Temporarily. For our girls and our long-term future.
Padraig and I haven’t talked much since the girls were born. Every time I try to explain why I’m here, he changes the subject. Says I’m wasting time trying to fix things that can’t be fixed. He doesn’t understand. I’m learning what it means to stay and do the important work.
Da lowers himself beside me. “So push it back. Pick it up when you can.”
“What if we never get there again?” I lean back on the couch, still amazed I’m able to have a heart-to-heart with the father I avoided for nearly twenty years. “Fireball’s makin’ some money. Not enough to support five of us. Forget songwritin’, I haven’t picked up my guitar in weeks. Linus has put everythin’ he has into Isis and we’re relyin’ on him to pay the bills. If we didn’t have this townhouse, my family would be in real trouble. It’s tough right now. He’s missin’ out on so much. Avonna’s anxiety is through the roof. I don’t have the bandwidth to do anythin’ but get through the day.”
Da studies me thoughtfully. “Welcome to fatherhood.”
“It’s fuckin’ panic,” I admit. “Every second of every day.”
He watches Quinn nestle into his chest. “Aye. And you wouldn’t change a thing. The love you have for them is indescribable.”
“Yeah.”
“You’d burn the world for them.” He kisses her head. “Even if it means you lose parts of yourself along the way.”
“Yeah.”
He shifts Quinn slightly as she squirms. “Try not to stress. You won’t lose the music, Liam. Or Padraig.”
Sloane lets out a tiny coo. She looks and acts so much like Linus. Calm. Content. Quinn looks and acts like me. Wide eyes. Fierce lungs. A tiny warrior already fighting the world for space.
Fraternal. Different. Ours. It doesn’t matter Quinn’s my biological daughter and Sloane shares Linus’s DNA. Not to me. Or them. They’re pieces of the three of us. I’ll protect Sloane’s soft peace and Quinn’s wild fire until the day I die.
Avonna touches my shoulder and holds up the ear thermometer. “Should we double-check Sloane’s temperature?”
