I decided to ignore him and moved down the short hall and into the kitchen, entirely led by my nose. There really was nothing like Siobhan O’Riley’s cooking. Steam fogged the window above the sink, a pan simmering on the stove, the table already set.
My dad stood at the counter, sleeves rolled, glass of wine in hand. His dark hair was like mine but peppered with grey at the sides.
“There he is,” he said, glancing up as we came in.
“Hey, Da.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, then wrapped it around my neck, pulling me to him.
“Good to see you, son.”
Before I agreed that it was good to be here, footsteps thudded down the hall and in ran my little tornado of a niece.
“Uncle Con!” she yelled as she wrapped herself around my legs and nearly took me out at the knee. I caught her under the arms and lifted her, her laugh loud in my ear.
“Maeve, you’re gonna be one hell of a forward one day, kiddo.”
“You came back,” she said, eyes bright.
“I said I would.”
“That was aaaages ago.”
Her little voice dipped on the last word, and something inside me gave way. It was like I’d missed a step I should’ve known was there. It had been about two months since I’d seen everyone at Christmas. I know kids’ reality is a time warp, but I hadn’t ever meant to stay gone for that long.
I set Maeve down. At four, she was already up to my mid-thigh. “I promise I won’t leave for that long again,” I said, ruffling her dark hair.
“Pinky promise?” She stuck out her little finger, grabbed mine with a hard stare, and waited until I agreed. Mini manipulator.
Liam hovered behind her nearby, watching. Since he’d turned ten, he had a lot less to say. I thought maybe his hormones were changing and that awkward phase was about to start. I remembered feeling the same as him growing up.
“Hi, mate,” I said. “You good?”
“Yeah,” he said simply, and I chuckled inside. Then my sister, Caitríona, came up behind him, one hand resting briefly on his shoulder as she leaned around him to look at me.
“About time,” she said, though her mouth tipped up when she smiled. So like our mother, with lighter hair than me and our Da.
I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Missed you too.”
She snorted. “Liar. You miss Mam’s cooking.”
I shrugged. She was right.
“Good to see you too, Jake.”
“Pleasure is mine, Cait. You’re looking mighty fine as always.”
Cait rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “Careful. Flattery like that gets you extra chores.”
Jake placed a hand over his heart. “For you? I’m a giver.”
“Still flirting with my wife, Jake?” Trent appeared from the garden, wide shoulders and square jaw. The perfect American husband.
Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Respectfully, she’s a ten.”
Trent laughed deeply and pulled Caitriona into a hug, kissing the side of her head. “I know.”
Still smiling, he glanced at me. “Good to have you back, Con.”
“Good to be here,” I said, and meant it.
