Chapter 3
THREE
It took me entering the kitchen to realize my kiddo was sitting at the table in the complete dark.
“What are you doing, baby?”
Shay glowered at me over his shoulder. Whether that was because I switched on the under-counter lighting or— “Baby?! Really?”
Ah.
I chivvied, “You’ll always be my love bug.”
He gagged, but I saw the sparkle in his eye. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Don’t I know it.” My tone was light as I brushed my fingers through his hair before settling my hand at the center of his back. Like usual, he wriggled his shoulders and released a sigh at the simple touch. “What’s with the scowl anyway?”
“I wasn’t scowling.”
“Sure you were.” I peered at his screen, unsurprised when he slammed it down before I could catch much more of a glimpse than a blank document and a cursor that tolled like a death knell. “No inspiration, huh?”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Why can you always read me like a book?”
“Because we’re cut from the same cloth.” Wishing I could make this better, I pressed a kiss to his temple. “You need help with this essay, just tell me.”
“Victoria’s already finished her term papers,” he complained. “She didn’t even really want to attend Oakwood, and she keeps up with the work like a boss. Me? Even though I’m not, it’s as if I’m slacking all the time. I know she only chose Oakwood so we can be together.”
An amused smile curved my lips. “She’s a sociopath.”
“Mom!”
“She is. I’m telling you.”
“Her attending the same college as me does not a sociopath make.”
“There are many, many reasons that I know I’m right…” Like the fact that the head of the Russian faction routinely sent her goddamn severed body parts and Victoria remained as chirpy as ever. No therapy required. “…but the fact she got her term papers finished this early is definitely sociopathic.”
“You’re surrounded by enough that you’d know.” Declan strolled into the kitchen with that swagger of his, which made me melt.
It helped that he had Cameron on his hip.
What could I say?
Declan and I reproduced to perfection.
Honestly, our kids were better than my works of art. And being surrounded by my family, in our kitchen, in our home never stopped giving me the squigglies.
For so long, what we had would have been an impossibility. Now, it was my life. My normal.
Until Shay departed for college, of course.
He was only here to help me decorate the tree and he’d gotten sideswiped by a professor changing the deadline on a term paper.
“Victoria isn’t a sociopath.” Shay sniffed. “If anything, she’s a psychopath.”
Though I hooted out a laugh at his surprise concession, Declan frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“She’s a headcase, Dad. She might look like butter doesn’t melt—”
“I will never understand that saying.”
Ever patient, Shay explained, “It means her perceived innocence hides a thousand sins.”
“What kind of sins? Sins that Brennan needs to cover up?”
“Not yet,” Shay intoned grimly, but his smirk only widened as his father’s eyes bugged. “I’m teasing. She isn’t a psycho. Plus, she has Maxim for that now.”
I shuddered. “She’s something with a -pathic. That we can agree on. But I’m glad. You need someone to keep you out of trouble. Your heart’s too big.”
“Mom!”
“It is. You want to be the president, baby. Not because you’ll be one of the most powerful men in the world, but because you want to make changes for the good of all. That says a lot about you, but mostly that you need someone to watch your back.”
It had taken some time for me to understand the relationship Shay and Victoria, Inessa and Camille’s baby sister, shared.
I’d caught them kissing once—not that they’d seen me snooping.
But I’d heard their conversation. It was nothing like Dec and I shared after a make-out session.
Be it now or twenty years ago. It had been like a lecture.
Shay asking her if he should curl his tongue or if he’d been too eager. Her asking if it’d always be so wet.
Kissing lessons aside, I knew there was nothing sexual about their relationship. They were just friends. The best kind.
Honestly, their closeness relieved me.
Now that Victoria was married to Maxim Lyanov, that friendship would provide extra padding that’d ensure Shay’s safety.
Victoria would never let anyone hurt Shay.
I had faith in that even if I had no faith in a man who thought decapitated heads were appropriate holiday gifts.
Shay’s cheeks puffed out when Dec asked, “What’s the problem? Why are we talking about Victoria anyway?”
“She’s finished her term papers and is sliding into Christmas break with no homework.”
Declan pulled a face. “I thought you had too.”
“No,” Shay mourned. “I’ve never been behind in my life. This sucks. I don’t think anything could be worse—”
“Worse than spiders, Shay Shay?” Cameron mumbled sleepily from his position on his dad’s lap after the very exciting playdate with the kids and a visit to Aunt Eef’s bakery for brownies.
“Worse than spiders, little man.”
“Atomic ones?”
“Yeah, buddy.” Shay gave him a gentle noogie. “Ten times worse.”
Cameron yawned. “Daddy’s good at killing spiders. Maybe he can help.”
“Not atomic ones.”
A little hand patted Dec’s chest. “Can’t be good at everything, Daddy.”
With my heart in a meltdown at the overload of cuteness, I murmured, “Want Daddy to read you a bedtime story, Cam?”
He nodded. “Long one.”
“Think I can manage that.” Declan ambled to his feet but clapped Shay on the shoulder. “You got this, son. And if Oakwood doesn’t drool over every word you deign to write in these damn term papers, then it’s not the right college for you.”
Our son grimaced, but I caught his eye before he could back-talk, so he just muttered, “Thanks, Dad.”
Once Dec was out of the kitchen, I soothed, “He means well.”
Shay’s expression tightened but he nodded. “I know.”
“And he isn’t dismissing your goals—”
“Mom. I know.”
“Good.” I released a relieved breath. Shay and his dad got along great, but we’d gone through several scholastic arguments that cropped up from time to time.
Declan was no academic, and Shay, for all his dreams and current issues with the workload, loved his studies.
“Don’t sit here too long psyching yourself out, Shay. It won’t help you get the work done.”
“Why did he have to change the deadline? That should be against the law.”
“You’re overthinking this. You’re a pro at essays. Just chill out—”
“This matters.”
His fierce tone had me sighing. “I know. And I know you have a twenty-year plan and everything hinges on that, and sucking at Oakwood would be a disaster, but if you let the pressure hit now, then quite frankly, your plan’s fucked.”
His lips twisted into a grin. “Kat’s still collecting. I can give her ten bucks if you want.”
Now that was a relationship that concerned me.
Kat had the power to hurt Shay in a way I didn’t think she understood yet.
Still, that was a conversation for another day, maybe a-never day, so I stuck out my tongue as I clambered to my feet and headed over to the refrigerator. “I have decorations to set up.”
He glanced at the can in my hand once I rustled through the contents. “Time for the hard stuff.”
“God, yes.”
Before I reached the kitchen door, he called out, “Remember that swear jar we had when I was thirteen?”
“And you were cursing like a trooper? Yup.”
So that’s where Kat had gotten her idea.
“What did the money go toward again?”
“Unlike Kat, I didn’t charge you ten dollars a swear word,” I reminded him. “But I think we bought a laptop with the proceeds.”
He stared at me from over his shoulder. “You really are the best, Mom.”
I blew him a kiss. “You make it easy, kiddo.”
Leaving him to stress out and knowing that I couldn’t help his procrastination/writer’s block, I strode into the living room where Declan had dumped the bins of Christmas decorations earlier.
Our deal was that he had to source the tree and put it in the corner beside the TV, help me pack up the ornaments once the holidays were over, and figure out storage for the many, many containers.
I had to decorate because, in his words, “my creative eye turned me into the Grinch.”
Overwhelmed by the city of boxes, I hissed under my breath, “That still makes no sense.”
To me, at least.
Shay had backed up his dad but, like the brave soul he was, always offered to help. Until homework got in the way, which left me alone with the gargantuan task ahead.
Popping my tab on the cocktail in a can, I took a sip of the vodka mule and tugged off the first lid.
Maybe it was luck that saw me uncovering ornaments Shay and I had bought on our travels. Each one a memory that let me reminisce about his childhood without bawling now that my baby was fully grown.
My lips quirked into a broad smile as I uncovered the little leprechaun with a Santa’s hat he’d insisted we buy in a Tesco’s in County Kerry one year, then the miniature cuckoo clock we’d found in the Schwarzwald.
I didn’t even realize Dec was watching me sort out the ornaments until he asked, “What’s the story with that one? Haven’t seen it before.”
I found him slouched on the sofa, a pensive expression etched into the lines of his face that I wanted to erase.
“It’s a kookaburra. We were in Melbourne one year.
There’s a market just outside the city. They sold all kinds of foods—it was the first time I convinced him to try a chicken and leek pie. Shay refused to eat anything white.”
Dec’s brows lifted but he laughed. “He wouldn’t eat anything white?!”
“Nope.” My smile deepened as I trekked through the boxes to reach the sofa so I could perch on his lap.
“We’ve been lucky with Cameron so far. He’s like a vacuum cleaner.
Eats anything. Shay went through phases.
The ‘nothing white’ one sucked. I’ve never known a kid to prefer brown bread to white, but Shay wouldn’t touch it. For almost a year!”
“A whole year?!”
“I don’t even know how I convinced him to eat the pie actually.” My gaze turned distant. “Did he want to try vanilla ice cream? Maybe. I think I said he could have that if he tried what I’d picked. Anyway, the pie broke him down.”
“That good?”
“We went back to that damn market three more times—he wouldn’t eat anything else for a week!”
Eyes soft, he slotted his arms around my waist. “What were you doing in Australia?”
“A portrait. For this asshole sheep farmer. We had to stay at his station and, while his wife was a hoot, it sucked. As a treat, once the commission was over, I took Shay to Melbourne and we chilled out there for a couple weeks.” I stroked my fingers over the ornament.
“He had to settle for a kookaburra because he couldn’t find any bin chickens. ”
“Any what now?”
“Bin chickens.” I smirked.
“Like trash pandas?”
“Of the avian variety. They’re these crazy-looking birds that eat out of bins. Australians have a love/hate relationship with them, but Shay adored them.” I popped my hip so that I could snag my cell from my back pocket. A quick search and I showed him a picture.
“Holy shit, they look like something from Ancient Egypt.”
“Trust me. They have the presence of an Egyptian god. I just bet Anubis was seeing them on the side.” I gently patted the ornament. “You can always ask, you know?”
His eyes suddenly fixated on the barren tree. “Ask what?”
I huffed and snagged his chin so he had to look at me. “About the times we were together, just him and me. You don’t need a Christmas ornament to trigger a conversation. I’m an open book with you. You know that.”
“Sometimes…”
“Sometimes?” I gently prodded when his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Sometimes it’s hard to ask because I don’t think I deserve to know.
” He tipped his head back against the couch cushion.
“I watch every single one of Cameron’s milestones and I cherish them all, but at the back of my mind, there’s a blank space where Shay’s should be.
” He rubbed his hand over mine to take the sting of the words away.
“And I feel so guilty. Especially when Shay’s growing up.
He’s writing term papers for college and debating topics I barely understand, and now that he doesn’t live here… ”
“The disconnect deepens.”
It took a second, but eventually, he nodded.
“I’m sorry, love.”
His eyes immediately sought and caught mine. “Don’t ever say sorry for raising our son and making him so damn smart and so damn good. I’m half-terrified that my influence on Cam will dumb him down! Atomic spiders.” He groaned. “Jesus.”
I snorted. “He’s still a baby.”
“My sperm’s older. And that’s my fault.”
“Your fault, huh? Not sure you can help it. That’s kind of how time works.”
He wrinkled his nose. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and I also know that Cam will be Cam just like Shay’s Shay. Maybe Cam will be smarter but won’t give a fuck about saving the world. Maybe he’ll be the next Blue Goblin—”
“Green,” Declan corrected then huffed at my grin. “Look, you read enough of those damn stories and you pick up on some stuff.”
“I never took you as a comic book kinda kid.”
“Da thought they were for pussies.”
That was no answer, but I closed my eyes. “I still want to strangle him. Frequently.”
He crowed, “That’s because you love me.”
“I really do.” I pressed my head against his shoulder and stared at the tree that taunted me with its emptiness.
“I can’t make up for the lost memories, and I know there are a million different things that I can’t even remember, that were just life, that were a random Tuesday in a random March in a random year… but I can bring stuff up?”
“Like what?”
“Star started a curse jar for Kat. And Shay just brought up the one we had. Have to figure he inspired her... Wanna hear that story?”
The damn tree could wait.
His arms tightened around my waist as he sank us deeper into the cushions for our very own impromptu storytime. “You know I do.”