‘Mum.’ Fin was also running out of patience. ‘We haven’tbeenanywhere else.’
‘Why does the family even give a shit?’ Sweeney demanded, looking between the two matriarchs. ‘I mean, seriously, neither of us live here anymore.’
‘Because that’s what families do,’ Ronnie asserted. ‘They give a shit. This one does, anyway. And it doesn’t matter whether you live here or not, are blood or not.’
‘Also,’ Connie added, ‘it’s a very small town and you two are the fairy tale.’ She spoke calmly and slowly, as though she was explaining the Dewey Decimal System to a toddler. ‘You’re two small-town kids, best friends since birth, who left town to make it big, and who have suddenly realised they’ve been in love with each other all along.’
Fin blinked. Great… he and Sweeney were fucking romance novel tropes. ‘But—’ He stared at them both pointedly. ‘None of that is true.’
‘They don’t know that, though, do they? And you two skulking around indoors is only feeding the speculation. Which is why youhaveto be seen out and about a bit,’ Connie insisted. ‘Like how the royals release pictures of their progeny and significant life moments to slake the paparazzi and public thirst so they can have some semblance of a private life. Normalise Feeney, then everyone will quickly forget about it.’
‘Don’t you think,’ Fin asked, ‘you might be slightly overstating things?’
Ignoring the question, his mother gave him a reproving look. ‘They keep askinguswhere you are.’
Fin almost laughed out loud at her affront. ‘Oh, I’m sorry that your lie is inconveniencing you.’
‘Fin.’ There was thatyou’re not too old to spanktone again.
‘Tell them we’re making you a grandbaby,’ he said drily.
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Don’t even joke about that, young man.’
Okay…thatwas heryou’re not too old to spanktone.
‘We’re just saying it’s weird, is all,’ Connie clarified calmly.
Sweeney cocked an eyebrow. ‘Weirder than the fake engagement you foisted upon us?’
‘We really are sorry,’ Connie apologised again. Beside her, Rhonda nodded vigorously. ‘But now we’re stuck with the situation and all we’re saying is, would it kill you to get out a little while Sweeney’s still here?’
Fin shook his head. ‘If the family want to gaze upon all our Feeney wonder, they can find us at the footy club every afternoon at four, although if Sweeney gets her work sorted then I suppose it’ll just be me.’
The thought gave Fin pause. Aside from the weirdness and stress of being forced into this situation by their mothers, it had been fun hanging with Sweeney again. He really hoped it wasn’t so long in between drinks for them after this.
‘Okay, okay,’ his mother said, throwing her arms in the air. She glanced at her co-conspirator. ‘You can’t say we didn’t try.’
Connie shrugged. ‘More cake for us, I guess.’
‘What the hell excuse are we going to give Maeve, though?’
‘Oh, I’m sure the two of you will magic something up,’ Fin remarked derisively. ‘That seems to be your forte all of a sudden.’
Ignoring his sarcasm, his mother turned to Connie. ‘Wecouldsay they were making grandbabies. They say the best way to lie is to keep things as close to the truth as possible.’
Fin gaped at them. They really were drinking their own Kool Aid. There was nothing close about this.Nobaby making was happening. Theyknewno baby making was happening.
He glanced at Sweeney, who rolled her eyes at him in a way that saidthese two are officially off the leash, and a laugh tickled the back of his throat.
The situation was getting more and more unhinged but, instead of letting the laugh out, his brain decided to think about baby making with Sweeney.
Thankfully his mother rescued him from his idiot brain. ‘Okay, well … toodles, I suppose.’ She stared at them both with disappointed resignation. ‘Come for dinner tomorrow. We’ll do a Sunday roast.’
Feeling petulant because WTF was he doing thinking about baby making with Sweeney, Fin opened his mouth to tell his mother—in the nicest way possible—that he would rather starve than sit over a meal and pretend they weren’t all living in the twilight zone. But Sweeney spoke first.
‘We’ll be there.’
And that laugh he’d been suppressing finally slipped out. Sweeney may have been unimpressed over the mothers making hay while the sun shone in this particular predicament and would probably also have been prepared to starve over it—if the food on offer had been anything else.
