Page 213 of Sins of Arrogance

Dier­dre’s body­guards were re­called im­me­di­ately to Dublin where I’m sure they were in­ter­ro­gated and killed for dere­lic­tion of duty.

My fa­ther told Oisín that he was ca­pa­ble of pro­tect­ing Dier­dre from out­side threats, but not from her­self. He even said it with what sounded like gen­uine re­gret.

Even­tu­ally, Brian and Oisin agreed that Dier­dre’s death was a tragic ac­ci­dent re­sul­tant of her head­strong na­ture.

Not that ei­ther of them ver­bal­ized the last bit, but Dier­dre’s per­son­al­ity was well known to them all.

Now we are here to pay our re­spects and for Mick to in­ter­ro­gate Nevan.

We stay with his fam­ily, but their re­served de­meanor to­ward us and Fitz is even more ob­vi­ous when I see how they in­ter­act with the rest of their chil­dren and grand­chil­dren.

We’re a sub­dued group gath­ered in the draw­ing room be­fore din­ner, the night be­fore the fu­neral. Most of the Fitzger­alds and all of the Kelly fam­ily are here.

Fitz walks up to Oisin and pats the man’s arm. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He sounds so grown up it makes me tear up.

Six years go­ing on sixty some­times.

Oisin clears his throat. “Uh, thank you, Fitzger­ald.”

“My da would cry and cry and cry if I died,” Fitz goes on and turns to Mick. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Aye, mo leanbh, I would at that.” Mick’s words seem to elec­trify the oth­ers in the draw­ing room, who stare at him with vary­ing de­grees of shock and dis­be­lief.

“Dier­dre was real pretty and she smiled a lot,” Fitz con­tin­ues, ig­nor­ing the way ev­ery­one in the room is now hang­ing on his ev­ery word.

“Aye, she did,” Oisin says, his voice catch­ing.

Fitz lifts his hand to­ward Oisin. He’s hold­ing his two fa­vorite fig­urines. “This is Spidey and Miles. They help me when I feel sad some­times. They’ll help you too.”

Ash­lynn lets out a sob and Sheila hugs the other woman to her.

Oisin’s eyes are filled with tears when he takes the toys from my son. “Thank you, Fitz.”

Af­ter that, both fam­i­lies warm up to my son. And I’m glad for their sakes that they do. Be­cause if they’d hurt his feel­ings by con­tin­u­ing to keep their dis­tance, it wouldn’t only be Mick’s wrath they’d have to worry about.

My fa­ther re­turns to New York the day af­ter the fu­neral, but Mick, Fitz and I stay on in Ire­land.

I spend the next week get­ting to know Mick’s fam­ily while Fitz bonds with his cousins. I like Mick’s fam­ily and now that they dote on Fitz like they should, I’m even start­ing to feel af­fec­tion for them.

A cou­ple of days af­ter the fu­neral, Sheila in­vites me to share a morn­ing cuppa in her fa­vorite room. It’s a cozy room that re­minds me of moma’s sit­ting room. Five peo­ple at the max could sit in here com­fort­ably.

Right now there are four. Mick’s mom, his older sis­ter, Chivon, and his younger sis­ter, Brigid.

I like Brigid the best be­cause she’s giv­ing her fa­ther fits and that makes me feel a kin­ship with her.

Sheila serves us all cups of teas and of­fers a plate of bis­cuits. Which are not fluffy, carby good­ness served with but­ter and jam, but crispy cook­ies.

Just like moma serves with her tea and talk with us girls. There’s more than just the lay­out of this room that re­minds me of moma’s space.

I take a cookie. “Thank you.”

“The other night…” Sheila’s voice trails off.

Chivon con­tin­ues her mother’s thought, like they’ve dis­cussed this be­fore invit­ing me to tea. “My brother said he would cry if Fitzger­ald died.”

I nod slowly. “First, he would prob­a­bly kill a lot of peo­ple and maybe burn down the city, but yes, he would cry.”

Brigid frowns at her mam. “That’s why I don’t want to marry into this life. Did you hear how mat­ter of fact Kara talked about her hus­band mur­der­ing peo­ple. And she’s a sweet­heart.”