“Are you sure you two are just friends?” Teagan asks.
Kieran’s fingers loosen around mine as if to release me, but I hang on tight. “Just friends,” I say lightly. “Kieran’s used to me being touchy-feely by now. I’m like that with all my friends.”
“I doubt Kieran minds,” Sean chimes in, nudging Kieran with his elbow.
Ugh, this guy. I’m sure he’s the type who doesn’t believe it’s possible for men and women to be ‘just friends’. I’m also sure he’s the type who would never understand the mission of Human Touch Companions and how platonic touch and companionship can have life-altering healing powers.
“Are you happy where you’re living, Kieran?” This unexpected question comes from the other end of the table. Mrs. O’Malley is tucked so far back in the booth I’d nearly forgotten she was there. Her voice is soft and almost rusty, as if she doesn’t get to use it much. After just fifteen minutes with her family, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to think she’s often spoken for or spoken over.
“It suits me for now,” Kieran says. “It’s in a good part of town, close to school. I’ve everything I need.”
I can’t see Mrs. O’Malley, so I watch Kieran instead. His expression has softened considerably, and he looks at his mother like she’s the only one at the table.
“Do you like your housemates? Are you getting enough to ea—”
“Maeve, really,” Mr. O’Malley snaps, causing Kieran to sit up so quickly and so straight, it’s like he’s a puppet who’s just had his strings yanked tight. “The boy is an adult, not a child. He doesn’t need your incessant questioning.”
I stiffen, mentally rolling my eyes. Three questions—normal mom-type questions—cannot be considered incessant. Also, referring to him as ‘the boy’ and calling him an adult in the same sentence? Kieran wasn’t kidding about his dad’s control issues. They came all this way to visit their son and he didn’t expect his wife to have questions?
Ignoring his father, Kieran leans toward his mom as much as he can. “My housemates are grand. One of them is an excellent cook and often leaves me leftovers since we have different schedules. I was thinking of getting a meal card from the school cafeteria, though, just to make things a bit easier.”
Mr. O’Malley draws a breath beside me, likely to say something derogatory about cafeteria food. Before he can speak, Don arrives with our drinks expertly balanced on a tray. I could kiss him for his timing. He takes our food orders, shoots me a wink, and disappears as quickly as he arrived.
I expect the questions to resume, but Teagan and Mr. O’Malley start talking about business, and Sean jumps in once in awhile to make sure none of us forget he’s a big, important lawyer. The three of them give off enough hot air, they could power a balloon all the way back to Ireland.
Silence falls for a short time after our food arrives until Mr. O’Malley resumes the work talk. Kieran and I keep meeting each other’s gazes over our bowls of spaghetti. After awhile, we begin making faces at each other—a poked-out tongue here, a flared-nostril look there—until we’re both holding back laughter.
I have no idea what the O’Malleys are talking about at this point, nor do I care. Kieran and I might as well not even be here; in fact, I kind of wish Kieran, Mrs. O’Malley, and I could get our own table and let these three windbags talk amongst themselves. At thirty years old, it’s been alongtime since I felt like a child at a table of grown-ups, but that’s how I feel now. The feeling intensifies when I glance up after giving Kieran my best impersonation of a rabbit, and find Sean watching me. Great. That’ll help his impression of me.
When we’ve finished eating, Don arrives with a server in tow to clear our plates. My eyes are glued to Kieran as he watches his mother with a sense of longing that makes my lungs constrict. I can’t see Mrs. O’Malley around the hulk of man between us, but I doubt it’s a stretch to think she’s looking at her son the same way. I’m ready for this afternoon to be over and I know Kieran is too, except it means saying goodbye to his mother.
Which is why, when Don returns and asks if we’d like dessert, I say, “Don makes the best tiramisu this side of the Atlantic. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried it.”
Kieran shoots me a grateful look, and Mrs. O’Malley’s quiet voice pipes up from the far end of the table. “That sounds love—”
But she’s cut off once again by her husband. “I couldn’t possibly eat another thing. We really ought to be going anyway. One bill, if you please.”
Don hurries away to get the check. I keep my eyes on him, afraid to see the expression on Kieran’s face. Movement across from me catches my attention as he slides from the booth. I do the same, and as everyone else climbs out of the bench seats, Kieran and I gravitate toward each other, our hands meeting, fingers locking.
Teagan moves in to hug Kieran first. I expect him to release my hand, but he hangs on, giving her a one-armed hug. I peer around at his family and catch Sean’s eyes on our joined hands. He steps forward next, shaking Kieran’s free hand and telling him it was good to see him. I try to be as subtle as possible as I angle my body toward Kieran and hook my other hand over our already-linked ones in order to avoid shaking Sean’s hand again. I already feel like I need the world’s longest, hottest shower, along with a shot or two of some strong liquor.
Sean retreats, his gaze landing once more on our joined hands. He shakes his head and laughs quietly before meeting Kieran’s eyes. “Just friends. Wish I had that sort of friend.”
Kieran’s fingers tighten around mine compulsively. Sean moves away and I inch closer to Kieran, murmuring, “It’s okay, just let it go.” He sighs quietly in response.
His grip slips from mine when his mother steps forward. She hesitates, as if unsure whether to hug Kieran, but he pulls her gently into his arms. A boulder-sized lump forms in my throat. I swallow hard, staring down at my shoes. Kieran speaks softly to his mother, but I can’t catch the words, which is probably for the best for a number of reasons. Whatever he’s saying is obviously private—thank god Mr. O’Malley went off to pay with a credit card—plus I think if I knew what he was saying, I might start crying and never stop.
Mr. O’Malley returns with a loud clearing of his throat. Wanting Kieran and his mom to finish their moment in peace, I distract his dad by thanking him for lunch. A glimmer of something human passes over his hard features, and he inclines his head in my direction. “You’re most welcome, my dear. I’m glad Kieran brought you with him.”
I blink hard. Where was this charming side of him the last two hours?
“When are you leaving?” Kieran asks his family at large.
“Sean and I are returning to Ireland day after tomorrow,” Teagan says. She appears bored now, ready to go, although what she plans to do in Bellevue, I’m not sure. Maybe I convinced her to check out Bellevue Village; the thought almost makes me laugh. “Mum and Dad are staying a few extra days, though.”
“Yes, and we’d love to see you again,” Mrs. O’Malley says. Her gaze swings from Kieran to me. “Both of you.” The invitation shocks me almost as much as Mr. O’Malley’s pleasantness. Maybe she’s convinced there really is something more than friendship between Kieran and me. Or maybe she realizes I make a good buffer between her son and husband.
“Oh, w-well I’m not sure if Meredith will be able to make it, but we can work something out for the three of us…” Kieran trails off, peering at me.
