I gave an awkward laugh. “Yeah. That’s me all right. We’re good.”
Orla tightened her hand on mine, smiling at her like she wanted to stitch the cracks together herself.
Travis came back minutes later balancing a tray, a French press and mismatched mugs. Orla jumped up to pour, probably just to keep her hands busy. Mom leaned back, eyes wide and a little damp around the rims.
“Look at you all here,” she gleamed. “Feels like yesterday my boys were running barefoot through my house, tearing it apart.”
Yeah,I thought. Half the time you were too hammered to notice.
Across from me, Eve was twitching with the weight of the secret they’d been keeping. Finally, Trav slid an arm around her shoulders.
“Actually, Mom…speaking of little ones running around…we’ve got news.” He glanced at Eve who nodded at him with a warm smile “We’re uh… we’re having a baby.”
Mom froze, hands clapped beneath her chin. For a heartbeat I braced for the crash out. But instead, she laughed, an actual real laugh, and tears spilled. “Oh my God. Finally. I’m going to be a grandma.”
Orla’s hand pressed against my thigh. She was smiling at my mother like she believed it. Like maybe this could be a fresh start. I wanted to believe her. But all I could think was how strange it felt, watching my mom cry clear, honest tears. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her reacting within the realms of a normal functioning human being.
Mom hugged Eve like she’d never let go, then stood, dabbing at her face. “I’m sorry, I just need a moment. Both my boys are here, and now a grandbaby…it’s a lot. Happy tears, I promise.”
She left then I heard the bathroom door clicking shut. Typical. A flicker of joy, then retreat. Same old pattern. I rolled my eyes, couldn’t help it.
“Ty, come on. Be nice,” Orla muttered.
“O, you don’t know the cycles,” I snapped under my breath. “This never lasts.”
Her eyes burned into me, sharp and unyielding. “No, I don’t. But I do know what it’s like to spend every Christmas without my own mother. Just give her a chance.”
That sliced straight through me and shut me up cold. Fuck. She had me on that one.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But if she slips, I’m bringing her home. You ask her, Trav.” I glared at my brother.
He opened his mouth to answer but Orla’s voice cut through like steel. “I’ll ask her myself if you’re going to be such an arse about it.”
A moment later, Mom reappeared, lipstick fresh and a smile that wasn’t convincing to me.
“Caroline,” Orla said warmly, before I could poison it, “would you like to join us for Christmas dinner today? We’d love to have you.”
Mom’s face lit. “Oh…oh that sounds wonderful. Bless your heart. That’s sweet of you. Just give me a moment to freshen up and grab my bag.” She ducked away to fetch her things.
I sank back in the chair, muttering under my breath, “Yeah, and your vodka.”
Orla’s hand shot out, smacking my arm sharp enough to sting.
An hour later, after one of the most awkward car rides of my life, my mother wedged between Orla and me in the back, the five of us rolled up to our place just as the catering van arrived.
Neither Orla nor I had ever cooked a Christmas dinner in our lives, so we’d called in the pros. Everyone grabbed a tray from the van, Orla muttering under her breath about the lack of Yorkshire puddings and “proper gravy” as she hauled one inside.
A second set of headlights swung into the drive, and Sarah and Eddie piled out, arms full of bottles and wrapped boxes.Eddie’s voice boomed across the gravel before he was even through the door.
“Caroline! What a pleasant surprise. You’re looking well,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek once we’d all gathered inside. He meant it kindly, but I heard the edge underneath, the careful phrasing. Not you look great or you look healthy. Just…well.
Mom preened under it anyway, smoothing her hair back. “Thank you, Eddie. Merry Christmas.”
Sarah stepped forward, elegant as ever, a bottle of red tucked under one arm. Mom’s eyes lit up, scanning her from head to toe. “Sarah, darling, you look stunning as always. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.”
Sarah laughed politely, setting the bottle on the counter with a look that said she regretted her choice of gift considering my mother’s presence. “Trust me, it’s mostly smoke and mirrors these days.” Eddie and Sarah lived close enough to keep an eye on her, close enough to step in when they had to. But years of thankless help had taught them where to draw the line.
Eddie and I never talked about it outright, but we didn’t need to. He pushed me to focus on tennis. He kept watch. And somehow, between us, things held together.
