I open my mouth to protest that she doesn’t have to do anything, but she gently touches her finger to my lips. “Yes?”
Helpless, I nod because I don’t want to do this by myself, “Yes. Thank you.” I whisper.
“No thanks necessary, Moira. The quicker we get all this sorted, the quicker you and that lovely babe can get on with your lives.”
“Now,” Jess pushes away from the table and stands, gathering up our mugs and plates, “go get your little one and I’ll take you.”
“Okay,” I agree obediently because I have a feeling that when Jess O’Shea uses that tone, she doesn’t want any arguments and honestly, I wasn’t in a place to argue.
I’m glad I didn’t because what to me was a huge mountain of information to wade through, for Jess it seemed to be a tinyhill. She took charge and arranged everything. Before I knew it, Harry’s body was released to the funeral directors, and we were given a date for the funeral. She held a fussy Mikayla while I signed what seemed to be a never-ending pile of forms and paid for what I was told to pay for. Although it didn’t seem to be much, Jess assured me it was all fine, so I let it go.
Jess took me back home after it was all done. I’d never been more grateful to feel his gaze on me as I stepped out of her car, and we walked up the steps. I stopped at the top and searched all around but didn’t see anything, not that I expected to.
“Are you okay Moira?”
I’m dragged back to the present by Jess’s hand on my arm. “Mmh,” I look at her and see the concern in her eyes. “I’m okay,” I nod. “Thank you for helping me today.”
“No worries at all,” she assures me, bending slightly to tug Mikayla’s blanket more firmly over her before looking up at me, “now the two of you get in the warm. I’ll be back in the morning to check on you. A day at a time, that’s what we’ll do until you’re back on your feet.”
She leans over and hugs me, before turning and trotting down the steps with the energy of a woman half her age. Shaking my head, I unlock my door and wave at her as she drives away.
Over the next few weeks, I find she’s right and I take it a day at a time.
Harry’s funeral comes and goes with little fanfare with only me, Jess and Jess’s husband Sean O’Shea at the service.
Not long after that I start my new job at the O’Shea bakery, and life settles down. I’m still not sure about staying in the house I rented with Harry, but it will take me a little time to get together enough money to move out.
After the funeral, the garda from that night stopped by and the one named Doherty handed me some information on a possible rental. It was in a lovely neighbourhood, and I wasn’t sure if I could afford it.
In the end that decision was made for me when there was a shooting down the road from where I lived.
Our neighbourhood wasn’t the safest, but so far this had been the first shooting in years. The next morning, I found the piece of paper with the number on it.
Nervously I bit my thumb nail as the phone rang and rang. Was anyone going to answer? With how long the phone was ringing, I was about to hang up when suddenly a deep voice came over the line. “You’ve got Butcher.”
“Um hi,” I squeaked. Clearing my throat, I start again. “Sorry. Hi, my name is Moira Ryan. I was given this number to call for a potential rental property.”
The line is silent and I’m wondering if I’ve phoned the wrong number, especially with the name he answered with. Did I really want to rent a house from a man called Butcher?
“Yes, I’ve got a house. Did Doherty give you the number?”
“Yes, he did.” I responded, feeling a little better that the garda knew him.
“When do you want to see it?” he growls in my ear, and my belly quivers as the sound reverberates through me.
“Today if possible, please.” I answer shakily. What was wrong with me? I never responded to a man this way. Ever.
“Two o’clock good for you?”
“That’s fine, thank you. I have the address. Will you be there?”
“Either me or my aunt Jess.”
“Oh,” I whisper, “You’re an O’Shea.”
“I am,” he replies, sounding a little grumpy. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope, quite the contrary.” I tell him with a small smile that I know comes through in my tone. “It makes me happy, because I trust Jess.”
