“All I made was a figgy pudding—really, a sticky toffee pudding.It’s made with dates, so I figured that was close enough.”Sam’s smiling.“And Iknowthat’s British, but Richard got me the recipe, and I knew you girls loved it, so I figured, why not?”
“To our Irish-British-American Thanksgiving,” Rían says.“Cheers.”He holds up his glass, and it starts a clink-fest that sweeps the table.
As the bottles start pouring more freely, the conversation speeds up too.“You should all be thanking me for bringing nothing but wine,” Mason says.“And I grabbed some Guinness, because, Ireland.”
“Not much of a cook?”Cillian asks.There’s an undercurrent in his tone, which I hope stays muted.
I drop a hand on Cillian’s knee, and he slides his over mine, not realizing it was at least half-warning.
“I can make quite an assortment of things,” Mason says.“I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich.”
“Which passes for a meal, I guess,” Cillian says.“In America.”
“Oh please,” Jack says.“Cheese toasties are a staple here, too.I might starve without them.”
Richard laughs.“They’re pretty common in England as well.”
“And I can make mac and cheese, from both a cup and a box.”Mason smirks.“Plus I can make nachos.”
“You can only make those because they’re Paul’s favorites.Without those and hot dogs, he’d have starved to death already.”
“Hot dogs?”Cillian looks sick.“Truly?”
I laugh.“Kids’ tastebuds grow in slowly.The younger the child, the less adventurous they are with food.I feel like kids think broccoli is poison until they’re at least ten.”
“Trace always liked broccoli,” Vanessa says.“He called them ‘little trees.’”
“So your child’s a freak,” Sam says.“Good to know.”
Jack laughs, but Rían looks afraid to react.
“It’s fine,” I say.“Once you have kids—if you ever have kids—you’ll learn that food jokes are to children what lameness jokes are to horses.Kids will have a complicated relationship to food, and horses will hurt themselves or go inexplicably lame.The two are just a given, but there is the odd unicorn like Trace who makes us all feel like terrible mothers.”
“Actually, when Bryce was born and wouldn’t eat anything, I felt like a total failure.”Vanessa’s smiling.“I had no idea that was a normal behavior.”
“For me,” I say, “that was having a baby who slept at night.Clara was up every hour on the hour for months and months.I didn’t get a five-hour block of sleep until she was almost a year.Then when Hannah was born, and she slept four hours through at a week, I must have checked her a dozen times.By two months, she was sleeping five or six hours every single night.It wasinsane.”
“Trace slept great, too,” Vanessa said.“He was basically perfect until he got older.”She’s frowning now, and I hate seeing it.
“They all have rough patches,” I say, “but they pull through them.”
“I mean, some people don’t,” Rían says.“Right?”
Jack’s glaring at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Half the kids we went to school with are still a total mess, right?”He’s looking at Caitlin, who has realized that wasn’t the right thing to say, though I doubt she knows why.I bet they don’t know that Trace has had some rough years.
“I think most people do figure it out,” I say.“I’m sure with parents like the ones sitting around this table, they’ll all be fine.”
“Oh, your kids are great,” Rían says.“I certainly wasn’t saying they weren’t.”
“So how about the All Ireland semi-finals?”Cillian asks.“What do you think about Galway?Can they beat that Ulster team?”
Jack, Rían, and Cillian areoffafter that, talking so fast about things I don’t understand and people I’ve never heard of that I just sit back and enjoy.
“He was quick to change the subject,” Mason says softly while the conversation revolves around hurling.“Guess he’s not much for kids, but I have to say, I kind of like that.Nice work.”His smile isn’t malicious.In fact, Mason almost seems...supportive.
It’s nice that Mason feels less threatened, I guess.
