Chapter 30
thirty
BéBHINN
“I’m so glad you’re home and that you had so much fun, sweetheart.” Bébhinn’s mom hugged her tightly before they sat down at Aunt Raven’s dining room table in her third-floor flat.
Family get-togethers always switched among the sisters’ flats, or for larger groups, they would meet on the first floor of the O’Faolain building.
Raven and Bran made one of their all-time favorite Oklahoma dishes for lunch today. “God, I love chicken and dumplings,” Bébhinn said as she inhaled deeply over the big pot set in the middle of the table.
“Raven makes it the best of the three of us,” River admitted.
“That’s because I still order Bisquick to make the dumplings,” Raven laughed. “Nothing beats it. Everything turns out fluffier.”
“It’s true,” Rowan agreed. “There was nothing Mom couldn’t whip up with the stuff.
“I don’t care what it’s made from. I’m starved,” Jonathan whined.
Before Bébhinn could retort about Jonathan’s impressive skill at inhaling anything, no matter the taste, her phone vibrated in her lap.
She expected to see a text from Gray, who’d been bemoaning earlier about not having anything “good” to wear to Murphy’s tonight, but when she glanced at the screen, her stomach curled tightly.
Dagr: Are you at family lunch?
Bébhinn: Just sat down. Chicken and dumplings at Aunt Raven’s. Yummmmm.
Dagr: Sounds…good?
She was grinning as her fingers flew over the keys.
Bébhinn: You don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll have to make it for you sometime. It’s an American dish and a family favorite.
Dagr: You do that. My grandmum taught me to make a mean shortbread. It became our thing as she got older. I would bake her a tin every time I visited. I’ll be responsible for biscuits and whiskey for dessert.
“Who are you texting with such a huge grin on your face, Bébhinn?” River asked. “It must be Mags.”
Caught off guard, Bébhinn felt her face flush and her eyes widen. Dead giveaways to the family now staring at her. “Oh, yeah. Mags.” She prayed it sounded more convincing to their ears.
Her mom and aunts gave her a sharp look, but true to their loyal hearts, they began dishing food onto everyone’s plates, diverting the men’s attention.
As casually as she could, she replied to Dagr. Already knowing what she would type and mortified at how forward she might come off.
Bébhinn: Deal. A few more weeks and classes will be over. I’ve been wanting an excuse to shop in London. I could meet you and create my culinary masterpiece.
Dagr: Damn. Client calling. Text later?
She sent a thumbs up, disappointed that the conversation was over but exhilarated that he’d initiated one in the first place.
Turning back to her plate, she scooped pillow-soft dumplings into her mouth, humming in pleasure at the gravy-covered carb ball. Thank you, Oklahoma. Her pleasure evaporated when she caught Bran’s eye. Her brother was staring intently, raising an eyebrow in query.
Apparently, food hadn’t been the diversion she’d hoped.
Ciar and his uncle cordoned off part of Murphy’s Pub for Ciaran’s party. No decorations, of course, but the food and drink were plentiful. She’d tried to convince her mother to come, but she’d declined, and because of her dad’s letter, Bébhinn accepted the decision and didn’t push.
Her dad had been right. He did know his wife better than anyone. His words freed Bébhinn from the constant worry for her mom.
She looked at Mags, Blair, and Gray lining the bar and laughed. Mags must have goaded Blair into taking a tequila shot, if the look of horror on Blair’s face was any indication, which was the exact moment Mags snapped a selfie. Blair would kill her.
Bébhinn joined her friends and all of them took turns taking goofy pictures, talking over each other, and singing Ciaran happy birthday, to which he shouted, “Feck off!” to the lot of them.
She was leaning back against the bar an hour later, flipping through some of the pics while laughing at the sight of Gray and Daniel performing some ridiculous dance moves to an old Irish tune.
She’d noticed a few of her friends from her hiking club, The Ramblers, had taken a table in the main room. Before she went to say hello, she chose a photo of her, Blair, Mags, and Gray and sent it to Dagr before she could talk herself out of it.
They’d all been laughing at Ciar, who was gyrating like a stripper behind Jonathan’s unknowing back, while her cousin tried to take the girls’ picture.
She and her friends were all wearing party dresses. Bébhinn wore a simple mahogany colored slip dress paired with a delicate three-quarter-length sleeve sweater in a lighter shade to dress the look down for a Sunday out.
If the picture she chose to send Dagr happened to be one where her sweater opened just wide enough to showcase her breasts in the best light…well, she wouldn’t apologize.
When her phone vibrated, she barely contained a grin.
Dagr: You had an American feast for lunch, and now you’re looking lovely and partying it up in an Irish pub. I’m not usually a jealous man.
She couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed. She would have preferred he had professed her gorgeous or stunning, but lovely would certainly work. He didn’t have to comment on her appearance, after all.
Bébhinn: Poor you. You must try harder to have more fun. Thank you, by the way, for the internship info. I forwarded it to Blair. I swear, she almost fainted. I won’t keep you. I only wanted to say a quick hello.
Dagr: Call me when you get home. I’m ready for the O’Faolain family tree pop quiz. I realize you want to make me wait in the hopes that I’ll forget, given enough time. It won’t happen.
She saw a shadow loom at her shoulder and barely dodged Daniel, pulling her phone from her hand.
“What the hell, Daniel. Are you five years old again?” While her cousin ordered a drink from the bartender behind them, she used the moment to text Dagr back.
Bébhinn: Be ready.
Before she could escape to go say hello to her hiking buddies, Daniel’s attention was back on her again.
“Tell me who you’ve been texting, Bébé.”
The use of her childhood nickname grated. As he knew it would. “Are you under the impression that I answer to you, Danny?” His jaw flexed at hearing his old nickname.
“You weren’t texting Mags during lunch, and you aren’t texting her now, so don’t bother lying.
” They both looked at her friend, who was trying to teach Blair the Texas two-step.
Bébhinn’s mom and sisters had taught the girls when they were younger, but Blair hadn’t picked it up.
Her deafness made dancing trickier but never impossible.
Blair could feel the beat of the music, and because Murphy’s system was currently beating out an old American country song, Mags probably thought it was a perfect time for Blair to practice. Unfortunately, since Mags was currently acting as a dance instructor, Bébhinn couldn’t use her as an excuse.
“I didn’t say I was texting Mags,” she sniffed in feigned offense. “You are only two years older than me, Daniel. Stay in your lane. I’ll put up with some overstepping from my brothers but not from you or Jonathan.”
At least Daniel had the good grace to wince. Holding his palms up in peace, he said, “You know how Dad is. How Uncle Pat is. Everyone is trying to find a new normal without Granddad…your dad,” he added softly, nodding in her direction.
“You’ve got to cut us some slack, Auntie. Granddad would have our balls in a basket if we didn’t look after you. You know that.”
Bébhinn felt guilty for her sharp attitude. He was right. Her dad had been way more overbearing, and he would expect his children and grandchildren to take over the hovering.
“Fine. I promise to tell you if there is something to know. Right now, though, I swear I’m only texting a friend.”
Daniel looked at her for a solid minute, possibly waiting for more, but finally accepting that she wouldn’t tell him more.
“Promise you’ll tell one of us if something…someone new comes into your life.”
“I promise. I’m going to say hello to some of my hiking club friends. Do you want to meet them?” she offered.
Gray joined her and Daniel as they made their way across the bar.
Gray knew most of her hiking buddies, and of course, they all loved Gray.
Daniel’s silent, looming presence would probably make the group uncomfortable, but it was a price she was willing to pay to end his curiosity about who she was texting.
When she got to The Ramblers’ table, she smiled and said hello to Sarah Dillon, an emergency room nurse, Billy Nance, a local Dublin mechanic, Mr. Todd, a teacher at TU Dublin, Tina Fields, an owner of a nail salon, and Justin Turner, a student at Trinity that Gray and she both knew.
Justin used to be Jina two years ago before she changed her look and name.
Bébhinn didn’t care about what Justin identified as now. He’d always been quietly kind and a great partner on hikes. They’d had a few classes together over the years.
Unfortunately, it had been clear for months that Justin had a thing for Bébhinn, and their interactions had become increasingly uncomfortable with each interaction. All she could do was treat him as a friend and hope that she wouldn’t have to actually speak the words that she wasn’t interested.
Justin had tried three times to get her to go on a solo hike with him, but Bébhinn had always kindly declined, claiming that it was more fun to go with the other club members.
He’d always taken it well, and recently it seemed Justin had recognized she wasn’t interested in anything but friendship, so it was less uncomfortable now than previous interactions.
Daniel, for all his earlier prickish ways, bought everyone a round. It was a great evening, mainly because Justin never tried to flirt with her.
However, Bébhinn’s mind barely managed to stay at Murphy’s, already imagining calling Dagr. She laughed at something Mr. Todd said, but her smile was all for the evening to come.