Chapter 19
NINETEEN
I flicked Paddy’s forehead when he got too close to me and I knew he was angling for a kiss. Instead, I chivvied, “Did you brush your teeth? I’m not having my first transatlantic Christmas gift opening with you and spinach stuck between them.”
Paddy complained, “It was one time, Lena! You’re such a hard ass.”
“Like you don’t need some bossing around.” I sniffed. And I meant it. “It’s a shame Liam couldn’t make it today.”
“Nah, he hangs around with the Bukowskis come the holidays.” He pulled a face that spoke of resignation and wistful longing. “Fucked up with both my kids.”
“It’s an O’Donnelly trait I’m hoping this generation breaks,” I said wryly.
“Me too.”
“Have you heard from Jennifer?”
“She video-called. Loved her watch.” He nudged me. “Thank you for helping me pick out their gifts. Meant a lot.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s fine.” I refused to blush.
“You sure you’re okay with ending the trip in Sicily?”
“Of course I am. Seeing in the new year there sounds wonderful. They don’t mind me coming to their villa, do they?”
“Wouldn’t have invited us if they did.”
“It’ll just be them?”
He nodded. “They don’t all leave the country at once.”
I huffed but I understood the necessity, even if I was sick of it.
A lifetime of abiding by bylaws that the rest of the world never even imagined existed was incredibly wearing on one’s patience.
“Now, how do I look?”
“Surprisingly casual.” I felt his eyes on me. “You’re still a looker, Magdalena.”
My lips curved. “I know.” Then, I turned to him and conceded, “When you shave, brush your teeth, and make sure to wear the clothes Luciu bought you, you’re a looker too, Padraig.”
He puffed up, just like I knew he would. “Right, shall I start the call?”
We were six hours ahead of New York right now, so that meant the family had probably gathered at Aoife and Finn’s, gifts would be opened soon, and lunch had yet to be served.
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” I snapped when he squinted at the screen. “Put the damn things on. I bought you that chain to use around your neck. Why don’t you wear it?”
“Because it feels like it’s choking me!”
“I’ll choke you if I see you squint at that phone again. Wear your damn glasses!”
“Ma, are you giving Uncle Paddy a hard time?” my eldest greeted.
“Hopefully, he’s giving her something hard—”
“Star! Jesus Christ,” Conor yelped.
“You eejit, Padraig. You hit connect!” I snatched the phone and ordered, “Get your glasses or you won’t be able to see anything.” To Aidan, I complained, “Four days I’ve had to put up with this one and his refusal to wear glasses. What on earth did he buy them for if he won’t wear them?”
“Because they make my eyes ache!”
“Because you haven’t worn them enough.” I studied him now that he’d put the frames on. “You look very dapper, Paddy.”
His eyes widened. “I do? Well, if you like them, I’ll make sure they’re glued to my face.”
“Should have told him that before, Ma. He’ll wear them in the shower now.”
Ignoring my eldest and refusing to admit that both Paddy and I were blushing like Shay did whenever Kat smiled at him, I remarked, “You do, Padraig. And I can tell you now that you don’t when you scrunch your face up at the screen.”
Conor snorted. “Ma, cut the man some slack. It’s Christmas Day!”
“I’ll cut him some slack when he’s dead. He chose to come with me, you know? That means he likes it when I’m mean to him.”
I heard Star chortle in the back. “Bring it on, Lena. Show him who’s boss.”
The two of us didn’t always get along, but sometimes we held similar opinions.
When she peered over Aidan’s shoulder, I asked, “Now, what’s this about me giving someone something hard?”
Aidan spewed out his drink. “Ma!”
I blinked. “What?!”
“Oh, my god.” Conor groaned.
With a suspiciously wicked grin on her face, Star grabbed the phone. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to talk to me for long. I’m just setting up the projector.”
“We’re going to be on the big screen?” I asked in excitement.
“Easiest way for you to see what’s going on. If the call disconnects, don’t worry. I’ll call back.”
“Why are my boys in the middle of conniption fits?”
“Because males are the emotional sex, Lena, why else?”
Because we agreed about that too, I simply peered around her when I saw someone bounce into shot and squealed, “Cameron! How’s my boy?!”
“I thought I was your boy, Ma,” Brennan drawled over on the sofa with Camille, of course.
I swore those two were stitched together at the hip. But I wasn’t complaining. A part of me remembered the days when Aidan and I had been like that. A few inches between us had been a few too many.
During the holidays, I missed him like my heart had been cut from my chest.
There’d be no more sneaky kisses under the mistletoe or finding gifts dotted around the house before Christmas. No fidgety hand to hold in church or corn anything to make for the fiend…
But I had my children.
And, maybe, Paddy.
And all my glorious grandbabies.
Now, if only Inessa would add to the pile, I’d die a happy woman.
My smile turned wistful. “You’re always my boy.”
“What about us?” Declan and Eoghan chimed in.
“Oh, hush, the lot of you. I loved my gifts, by the way. I can’t believe you remembered I love Capodimante. It’s years since I bought any.” Tears pricked my eyes at their thoughtfulness. “Now, what time are we opening presents?”
Aoife caught my eye and, timidly, I smiled at her. She smiled back, and a world of hurt shone back at me.
I was to blame for that.
So many sins I’d committed against that girl, and while some should have put me in a cell, I thought the worst was the rupture of our own relationship.
I still thought of her as my daughter, even if she hated my guts.
When she ducked away, I didn’t comment and nobody else did either. Another sin—I’d done this. Brought this tension to the family. A tension that was impossible to heal.
It was why I’d agreed to this ‘vacation.’
Aoife deserved to host the holiday meal without stressing about what to do with the problem that was me.
Eventually, Star disappeared and Conor took her place as they both fiddled around with whatever they’d done to the TV.
“Did Alessa manage to come?” I asked.
“No. Stomach flu’s swept through the Sinners’ compound,” Conor answered, glancing up from a screen.
My Aidan would have been rolling around in his grave if he knew we were breaking bread on Christmas Day itself with some bikers, but… it wasn’t his time anymore.
It was our sons’.
Aidan poured some whiskey into a glass then made a toast. “Thanks for this, boys. I’d offer you some, but it’s wasted on your plebeian tongues.”
“Don’t worry. I can cut his out now that you got me my Damascus,” Eoghan drawled.
“Eoghan,” I reprimanded. “What’s a Damascus?”
“A special knife, Ma,” he chirped.
“How special?”
“Six-hundred plus layers of Damascus steel and the handle’s made from five-thousand-year-old bog oak—”
“That’s also a kitchen knife,” Finn drawled. “Not for slitting throats.”
“Finn!” Aoife chided. “Not in front of the kids.”
“They’re not interested.” He wafted a hand at the tree and the chaos of so many of our babies tussling over whose gift was whose.
“What did they get you?” I asked him gingerly.
Relieved he didn’t blank me, I gave him a soft smile when he answered, “A tie pin.”
“Only because you’re so fucking hard to buy for,” Declan groused.
“I told you what I wanted.”
“We weren’t buying you a data center for Christmas, Finn. You need a better work/life balance,” Conor derided as he stole the whiskey tumbler from Aidan’s hand. “And if I’m saying that, you know you have issues.”
“I want to destroy it—”
“We can do that in the New Year.” Conor tutted, then sotto voce, he added, “We talked about this—”
“And you, son?” I interrupted before they could get all technical on me. “What did they get you?”
Conor grinned. “Donkey Kong. The arcade game.”
“And you, Dec?” Paddy called out.
“Oh, a Degas charcoal.”
“A Digga who now?”
Declan heaved a sigh. “Never mind. What did you get Liam?”
Paddy’s nose scrunched. “He won’t take gifts from me.”
“That doesn’t mean you stop trying.” Conor tutted. “You better not have fucked with his mojo, Paddy. We have a cup to win this year.”
“It’s never too late to try, Paddy,” Aoife offered gently, but her gaze glanced off me and she scuttled into the kitchen again.
My heart clenched, hope shimmering through it, but I shifted focus as Paddy huffed. “Liam doesn’t need me.”
“We always need our dad,” Aidan corrected, a frown on his face.
“Even if he’s a fuckup,” Eoghan agreed, his tone grim.
“Jesus, what the hell happened here?” Star complained. “I left and you were laughing and giving Aidan shit for his bougie taste in liquors! Now it’s like we’re at a crime scene.”
I pulled a face but couldn’t deny she was right.
Clapping my hands together, I declared, “Time to gather around the tree, everyone.”
My words, even from across the pond, transmitted wide and far. I beamed at my boys and their girls as they settled around the tree while the children laughed and shrieked and played.
“Such a beautiful sight,” I praised. “Oh! Where’s Victoria?”
Camille cleared her throat. “She’ll be here for lunch.”
Shay snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Leave it,” Eoghan ordered.
My eyes widened at his tone, but even as I wondered why he’d sounded like that, I pivoted: “Gifts! I want to see this Secret Santa malarkey first.”
“I apologize in advance to the person who got my present,” Savannah chimed in glumly until Aidan pressed a kiss to her lips to shut her up.
“I don’t,” Star muttered.
“Or me. Mine took me ages,” Aela said dryly.
Camille shrugged. “Mine turned out all right.”
“And mine.”
Star tossed a pillow at Aoife. “Of course it did, Ms. Home Shit Queen.”
“Star, must you swear?” I chided.
“Don’t discourage her, Grandma Lena! I’m collecting!” Kat yelled.
“Still?”
“Hey, we’re funding a sanctuary on Star’s sailor mouth,” Eoghan drawled. “Don’t stop her, Ma.”