Chapter 4
Sylvia stood at the stove wearing a yellow apron that read ‘Momma in the Making,’ pretending to stir the pot—when really, she was just keeping Sondra the hell away from the food.
It was getting harder and harder to keep the secret of Sondra slowly poisoning everyone, one by one. Or, if you counted the made-with-love lasagna incident, six at a time—which, when you think about it, was rather impressive.
And they all loved Sondra. Wouldn’t trade her for the world.
But Simon really needed to tell her.
Yesterday, they’d barely intercepted a batch of muffins she baked for Darcie. As it was, poor Bootstrap wasn’t so lucky. The dog adored treats, and Sondra, being the softie she was, had snuck him a few bites of blueberry muffin. Poor thing spent the next two hours making emergency trips outside into the freezing cold.
Sylvia shook her head as Sondra, who was standing at the counter, recounted the mysterious wedding present left for Nan and Shamus. “…Anyways, Simon said they insisted on driving themselves here and that they looked like they had a grand time and all, but then they opened up a gift—a painting of some sort—and then they shoved him out the door!”
“That is strange,” Sylvia replied thoughtfully.
“Are you sure I can’t help you with the cooking? A dry roast is the devil’s work. That’s what Shamus says.”
Sylvia heard two car doors slam and yelling from outside. It must be the twins had arrived. They were always fighting about something. Now, to keep Sondra away from this food for two minutes. “No, no Sondra, love. Why don’t you go and sit with Darcie? I’m sure she’d be glad of your company and she might need something.”
Sondra, none-the-wiser, smiled, turned, and walked away. Sylvia sighed in relief. Mission accomplished. Now, to see to the twins.
“Ouch! Dammit, Soph! Would you knock it off?” Keefe cried as the front door of Connor’s house quickly swung closed in his face, courtesy of his very pissed off sister.
“How about you knock it off?”
Keefe pushed the door open, then closed it behind him. Sophie, who was taking her shoes off, glared at him. “Come on. You can’t really be that upset.”
She stood up with one shoe in her hand, ready to knot him with it. “Can’t really be upset? I’m just getting started! You had no right!”
“Don’t you throw that shoe at me! He’s my friend too, you know?”
Having already heard the commotion, Sylvia met them at the door to break up the bickering and just in time, too. Sophie was gearing up for a brawl by the look of things. Without raising her voice even a little, she instructed Sophie to put her shoe down. Sophie sneered at Keefe, stuck her tongue out, then placed it on the floor.
“Hooligans, the pair of you,” Sylvia said, shaking her head.
“Would you stop?” cried Keefe when Sophie jabbed her elbow into his ribs.
“You stop!”
“No! You stop!”
They both stopped when Sylvia’s laughter was the loudest thing in the room. “You two! It’s like you’re kids again. The pair of you have been bickering and fighting since before you were born. I’d never seen a woman get knocked down by her own unborn twins until I saw your poor mother! You two would be kicking at each other like crazy. What’s the problem this time?”
“Hi, Aunt Syl’! Looking beautiful as always!” Keefe said brightly. “Sophie’s mad at me.” He bent down to hug his aunt—who, compared to his six-foot-one height, was practically a dwarf—and lifted her off her chubby little feet. “I called my friend Liam today.” He sat Sylvia back down with a kiss on her cheek.
Sylvia giggled at her too-good-looking-for-his-own-good nephew’s affection and whispered in his ear that she wanted details later. Then she turned her attention to her fuming niece. “Come on inside, Sophie, love. I’ve got just the thing for you.” She took Sophie’s hand and gave it a reassuring pat. “I made your favorite!”
Sophie’s scowl turned into a smile. “Pork pie?” Aunt Sylvia made the flakiest crust and the most delectable pork pie.
“What else? Come on in, love. We’ll get some food in you and you’ll feel better. You’ve been working around the clock and I bet you haven’t eaten all day.”
Sylvia was right, of course. She was always right.
Sophie dropped her head back and said a little prayer, thanking God for Aunt Sylvia and her cooking come to save the day.
Keefe crept up behind his sister, wrapped her in a bear hug, and lifted her high, swinging her around while ignoring her protests to put her the hell down. “Not until you forgive me, sis.”
“Never!”
Keefe spun in circles, making her dizzy and giddy, and kept it up until she smiled. It worked every time.
Once the twins had made up, which they always did, Sylvia smiled and took Sophie by the arm. “Now let’s get you some pie, love.” Sylvia glanced back over her shoulder and winked at Keefe. “Don’t eat the brownies, though,” she whispered.
“Why not?” Sophie whispered back.
Sylvia mouthed the warning, “Sondra made them.”
Keefe and Sophie nodded in understanding. It had been a month since that fateful day of eating Sondra’s well-intended meal, and neither of them could so much as think about lasagna without feeling nauseous.
As they stepped into the kitchen, the twins were welcomed by the smell of home cooking, the warmth of a crackling fire, and the sounds of family. In the living room, Bootstrap played tug of war with Bitsy. It wasn’t really a war at all, seeing as Bootstrap was ten times the size of Bitsy, but Bootstrap seemed happy to play along.
Sondra and Darcie, who had Molly stretched out on her lap, were stretched out on the sofa with their feet up, laughing at the dogs. While Connor and Henry were placing the table leaves on the dining table so it would seat ten. Simon was in the kitchen guarding the food from Sondra.
After saying their hello’s to everyone, Keefe offered to help with the table while Sophie fetched the plates from the kitchen.
“Where’s Aunt Nan and Shamus?” Sophie asked as she stacked plates.
“Nan called and said they would be a bit late. Didn’t say why,” answered Henry as he pushed one end of the table together.
With the table leaves and chairs in place, Keefe no longer had a job. “What else can I do to help?” Keefe asked.
Connor looked at Sophie and Henry now laying the table and chatting away about the pub. “We’re all set, I think. We’re just waiting on Aunt Nan and Shamus. How about a drink?” Before heading to the kitchen with Keefe, Connor went to Darcie. He bent down and kissed the top of her head as his hands ran over her hair. “Acushla, are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?”
Darcie hesitated for a moment and couldn’t help but groan before answering. “Yes, I’m fine.” She rested her hands on her belly, tracing slow circles. “But I’m starving.” It had been a whole twenty minutes since she’d last eaten, and yet she was hungry again. Eating for three was exhausting.
“Are you all right, love? Are you in pain?”
“It’s nothing serious. It’s just if I’m not sitting here on the sofa, it’s over there on my chair or in our bed! And I’ve got two starving human beings kicking me every five minutes and using my ribs as monkey bars! I think I’m allowed to be a little sore, don’t you?” Almost as soon as the words flew out of her mouth, Darcie was more sorry than she could say. It wasn’t like her to take that tone. She knew it was her hormones, and Connor knew it was her hormones, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Connor chuckled, good and hard. “You’re sounding more Irish every day, you know that, love? Can I have a kiss now, or is it too soon?” He laid a hand over hers on her very pregnant belly.
Darcie giggled and blushed and tipped her head back for a lingering kiss from her adoring husband.
“I made brownies. I’ll get you one,” said Sondra, ducking out.
Darcie and Connor pulled apart with a mutual gasp. Those brownies had been secretly placed in the trash by Simon! “No need, Sondra, love. You stay here and take a load off. Can I bring you anything from the kitchen?”
Sondra asked for a glass of wine. Connor winked at Darcie then headed for the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, Keefe told Connor to sit himself down and he would open the wine himself. “Hey, Momma! What’s cooking? Smells good!” Keefe teased, seeing as Simon was now wearing the yellow apron.
“Hey, Keefe, good to see you. I heard you and Sophie at it when you came in. What was that all about?”
“Oh, that. She was mad at me for calling Liam.”
Simon stopped stirring the gravy and turned around to Keefe, uncorking a bottle of wine at the counter. “She still hasn’t talked to him? Why not? He’s one of the good ones. I’ll take a glass of that since you’re pouring.”
“Who’s one of the good ones?” Sophie asked as she entered the kitchen. She took the seat beside Connor and told Keefe she would take a glass of wine since he was pouring.
Too bad Connor wasn’t feeling so clever. Without a thought, he said, “Liam.” As soon as the name slipped from his mouth, he regretted it, and cringed just thinking about what she would do to him.
Now, sure, Sophie was a hothead however, she was a hothead who was not without at least some degree of self-control. Seeing as Connor had a very pregnant, bedridden wife in the next room, Sophie didn’t harm him—but she made no bones about how she felt about them discussing Liam. She would let them off with a stern warning—this time. “I don’t understand. What’s so great about Liam, anyway? You guys talk like the sun shines out of his ass!”
Simon couldn’t stay out of this if his life depended on it. “Personally, I don’t see why you couldn’t just go on a date with the guy. It’s not like you have to marry him. When is the last time you even went on a date anyway, Soph?”
“Excuse me? I date!” Even she didn’t believe that lie. She hadn’t been on a date in over a decade.
“A man flashing you doesn’t constitute a date, sis.”
Sophie sneered at her brother in reply.
“Wait, a man flashed you?” asked Simon.
“Yep!” Keefe grinned and snorted a laugh. “We were out for a walk on Derrynane beach.”
Simon threw his head back laughing, Keefe too. Connor, on the other hand, was within her reach and, frankly, had no desire to have his block knocked off.
“Mention Liam again—any of you—and I’ll rip out your tongue. I’m sick of hearing about Liam. Do I make myself clear?” Sophie’s murderous gaze met each pair of eyes in the kitchen. Yes, they understood.
Connor thought to himself that she was much scarier when she didn’t yell. At least he was smart enough not to say that out loud.
Seeing as that was over, and before Sophie could change her mind about not ripping them each a new one, Keefe poured Riesling into four glasses and changed the subject. “Soph, I was thinking, why not have a family dinner at the pub sometime once she’s ready?”
“That’s a good idea. It could be a thank you dinner. They are doing a lot helping us out.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I come up with good ideas all the time.”
“Well, it wasn’t such a grand idea you had earlier today, now was it?”
Keefe leaned over the counter, and with an angelic smile slid Sophie her glass of wine. “You forgave me already, sis, remember?”
Her brother had mastered the art of charm when they were still in diapers and damn it all, it still worked on her. “Whatever,” Sophie said and lifted the glass to her lips.
Keefe shook his head, then turned his attention back to Connor after handing a glass of wine to Simon. He poured another for Sondra and one for Connor, who asked for his to be filled only halfway. “I’ve hardly seen you at all since Christmas. How’s things?”
Connor took a small sip of wine. “Darcie’s been having a time of it. Mood swings, she’s hungry all the time, and now she’s on this bed rest…” Which reminded him he was supposed to be getting her a snack. “Simon, Darcie’s hungry. Is there something you could plate up for her?”
“No problem. She loves my colcannon cakes.”
“Perfect, thanks. There’s chocolate sauce in the refrigerator on the door.”
“Why would I need that?” Simon looked at Connor, who tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Come on. Don’t tell me…”
Connor nodded. “She wants it on everything these days. The other day she poured it all over her fish and chips and that was after she’d put vinegar on.”
Simon stuck out his tongue and grimaced, then reached into the oven, where the main dishes were being kept warm, and retrieved three potato cakes—two for Darcie and one for Sondra, because if he knew his Sondra, she’d want one too.
Then he found the chocolate.
He just couldn’t bring himself to pour it over the cakes, so instead, he grabbed a small dish, poured the chocolate into it, and placed it on the side. Satisfied with his compromise, he took Darcie her potato cakes, handed Sondra her wine, and hurried back to the kitchen—before he had to witness Darcie dipping her potato cakes into chocolate.
Keefe knew that Darcie had been put on bed rest only days before. He didn’t know much about babies and pregnancy, but he knew his cousin was more than anxious. “When is she due?”
“Not for another three weeks, but the doctor isn’t so sure the twins will wait that long. She wants Darcie off her feet. She’s worried the twins might come early, and wants to keep them cooking as long as possible to make sure they’re strong and healthy when they’re born.”
Never being a father himself, Keefe could offer empathy and an ear but not real understanding. He was about to ask another question when the doorbell rang, then voices of Nan and Shamus sounded. It was only a few moments before they appeared in the kitchen.
Keefe swept Nan in a hug the same way he’d done with Sylvia, then shook hands with Shamus. “Welcome home, newlyweds! How was the honeymoon? You’re both looking very tan!”
“It was grand! You should see the white beaches there, gorgeous they were,” said Shamus. “Weren’t they, Katie, love?”
Nan blushed a little underneath her tan and Keefe cocked a knowing grin, which earned him an elbow to his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind him that his aunt prefers her privacy. “I’m sorry we’re late.”
“No worries.” Connor hugged both Nan and Shamus. It was good to see them again. He hadn’t ever gone two weeks without seeing his aunt and he’d missed her. “Now that you’re here. Let’s sit and eat. I’ve got a starving wife in the next room.”
Shamus went to the living room to find Darcie. “Hello, lass! I’ve come to escort the most beautiful niece in the world to the dinner table. I heard you’re supposed to be off your feet.” Before holding his hands out to Darcie, he greeted Sondra with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Sondra took the empty plate perched on Darcie’s stomach and set it on the coffee table. She then helped Darcie swing her feet off the sofa. “Welcome home Uncle Shamus! How was the honeymoon?”
“We had a grand time, thanks, love.”
Darcie smiled wide and stretched out her arms for Shamus to take. She was the size of a house these days and getting up on her own wasn’t allowed, or even possible really, until after the babies were born. Once Shamus had her on her feet, she hugged him as close as she could. “I missed you.”
“And I missed you. Are you and the babies all right? Simon said you were on bed rest.”
“We’ll be fine, don’t worry. I want to hear all about your trip!”
Shamus got Darcie to her seat, then sat beside her, leaving the seat on the other side of her open for Connor.
It took only a couple short minutes for the food to be placed on the table and everyone to be seated. Soon the clatter of plates and lively chatter filled the dining room with warmth radiating from the mix of laughter and overlapping conversations. Nan and Shamus were being peppered with questions about their honeymoon, while others demanded updates on Keefe and Sophie’s pub. Darcie’s pregnancy, her recent bed rest, and the twins were a hot topic too, with every relative offering unsolicited advice.
Darcie leaned back in her chair, hands resting on her belly as she surveyed the joyful chaos. For a brief, blissful moment, all felt right with the world.
And then it didn’t.
Lately her moods shifted faster than a windstorm on the Atlantic and all it took to set her off was the mention of dessert and Sondra’s brownies. “You know, Sondra,” she blurted, “I don’t know why anyone lets you near a kitchen. Every single time you cook, someone ends up with food poisoning.”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Simon, ever the lying peacekeeper, chuckled nervously when Sondra whipped her head around to him, looking for answers. “Come on, Gingersnap. It’s not like that at all.”
“It is, too. You’re just too big of a wuss to tell her yourself, Simon.” Sondra’s jaw hit the floor and just like that, Darcie was back to her usual sweet self. And her usual sweet self was absolutely mortified. “I don’t know where that all came from. Sondra! Oh, no! I’m so, so sorry!”
Connor put his arm around Darcie’s shoulders. The secret was out. Yes, the delivery could have been smoother, but really Darcie had just done Simon and the whole of Ireland really a favor.
“Simon, is this true?” Sondra gasped as she looked around the table at each pair of eyes. “I make you guys sick?”
“No, not you lass, never you, just your food,” said Henry, assuring her. There was an awkward silence for a moment before he continued. Seeing as the secret was out… “Jesus, I was on the toilet for a day and a half after eating your stew.”
Sondra’s mouth again gaped open. It must be truly awful for Henry to say something like that. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Then another confessed.
And another.
And another.
In fact, everyone at the table had offered their experience with one food or another that Sondra had prepared. Only Simon was left. The wuss, as Darcie called him, hadn’t said a word and if he ever wanted to have sex with his wife again without her mutilating him, then he was going to have to tell her the truth. “All right, all right, everyone. I think she’s got the point now. Truth be told, Sunny, love of my life, you’ve made the whole family sick, even Connor’s dog.”
“Yeah, that brownie you wrestled from his mouth!” Connor snorted a laugh as he recalled. “Rolling around like an animal, he was wrestling poor Bootstrap—and the dog still got sick right into my shoes.”
Sondra began putting the pieces together. “So, when you said you had the flu or something, you really had food poisoning?”
Simon nodded his head in shame. He should have told her the truth long before now.
“Darcie? Did I make you sick?”
“No, not a bit, I promise! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings like that.” Darcie was on the verge of tears. Never in a million years would she have deliberately hurt Sondra’s feelings.
“I know. You’re forgiven.”
The dining room fell awkwardly silent. Then Shamus stood up and raised his glass. “Darcie, love, bless your soul.”
Everyone erupted into laugher, for Shamus was the absolute last person any of them would have expected to say such a thing. Well, actually Darcie was the absolute last person, but since she’d let the cat out of the bag, the next in line was Shamus.
Even Sondra was laughing as Simon hooked his arm around her, pulling her close to kiss her good and hard, and didn’t break away until she melted against him. “God, I love you, Sunny. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Just, from now on leave the cooking for me. All right?”
“Deal. You know what? I hated cooking, if I’m honest. All that measuring and temperatures. How am I supposed to know when an egg is room temperature?”
Her confession only made everyone laugh harder.
Seeing an opportunity, Henry eyed the twins. “Speaking of food, you’d better serve proper chips—not those skinny imposters you’re always after from McDonald’s.”
The twins shared a look and a smile. Did they know their uncle or did they know their uncle? “We know, Uncle Henry. Proper chips, fried in proper fat!” Keefe mimicked his uncle’s gruff Irish tone.
“None of that oil!” Sophie added with a smirk.
“I don’t sound like that,” Henry huffed.
“Yes, you do,” they said in unison.
“Uncle Henry, you’ve been on about those fries since forever!” Sophie said.
“Rest assured we do know they’re better and I swear to you that I will serve nothing else because they can’t be beaten,” Keefe said.
“Speak for yourself,” Sophie shot back. “I love McDonald’s fries.”
Keefe scoffed. “You have the palate of a toddler.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. She was the business brain—hardworking, dedicated, and focused. Keefe, on the other hand, was the artist, bringing creativity to his cooking and whatever else caught his fancy.
Before her husband started a debate, Sylvia interrupted. “And on that note, who’s ready for dessert?” Sylvia asked as she stood up from her chair and collected plates. “Sondra, we already got rid of your brownies, but we have chocolate cake and ice cream.”
Sondra laughed and shook her head as she got up from her seat to help with the clearing up. She considered apologizing for giving everyone food poisoning, but since nobody had bothered to tell her, she figured they had brought this on themselves.
Nan nudged Shamus with her elbow, urging him to speak. Shamus raised his voice a bit, just enough to get the attention of everyone. “Sylvia, Sondra, love, can that wait for just a minute? Nan and I have something we need to talk with you all about.”
Sylvia and Sondra both nodded and put down the dishes they were carrying.
Not knowing how to break the news to the family, Shamus started, then stopped, then started again after a reassuring nod from Nan. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’ll just be out with it.” Shamus looked at Nan and asked for the photograph. She reached into her handbag and produced an envelope that she handed over. “This picture was in Cian’s wallet. Darcie, my love, you’re in it. You’re just a wee child, but I know that’s you.” Shamus removed the photograph from the envelope and handed it over to Darcie to see first. Connor inched closer to his wife so they could look together. “We would have showed it to you before, but we thought we’d try to find out who the other girl is first.”
Darcie looked at Connor with worried and confused eyes. Connor moved even closer to her, taking her under his arm. The picture was of two young girls standing at Cian’s side. All three were smiling. “I don’t understand,” said Darcie. “What is this? I’d never met Cian until recently and I don’t recognize that girl.”
“I do,” Shamus said. “Or at least I think I do.”
Connor handed the photograph to Henry, who looked at it, then his eyes grew wide as well as Sylvia’s. One by one, each person around the table viewed the photo and, one by one, they were left astounded.
“That girl looks exactly like my first wife, Caireann, did at that age. I think Cian has, or at least had, another daughter. What he’s doing with the pair of you together, I don’t know. My guess is that Cian couldn’t stay away from you, Darcie, and found a way to see you. Maybe he was posing as a family friend or a neighbor. I’ve been doing a little digging but haven’t come up with much. Except…” Shamus couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud.
Once again, Nan reached inside her handbag, only this time she produced a card. “This card, along with a painting, was waiting for us when we came home today.” She opened the card and read it out loud. “All my best wishes for a long and happy marriage. Love, Cian.”
Darcie gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. Connor reached across the table to take the card from his aunt. He needed to see this for himself.
“The handwriting isn’t Cian’s,” stated Shamus. “I’m sure of it.”
“So, then, who wrote this?” asked Connor as he passed the card to Keefe, who was seated beside him.
“And how did it get inside your house?” Simon asked.
“We don’t know.”
Keefe and Sophie turned pale as they both read the card. They shared a look and Keefe spoke. “We took it inside. It was sitting on your doorstep yesterday morning. We came to deliver your mail to Aunt Nan and there it was. It hadn’t been sitting there long. It rained early that morning but the gift was dry,” Keefe explained.
Sophie continued. “We figured it was a harmless wedding present, so I put it on your table inside. If we’d had any idea…”
“I know that, love. It’s all right.”
“All right? All right? You can’t be serious! None of this is all right! What does it mean?” Sondra demanded.
“Well, if I’m right, then it means Darcie has a sister out there somewhere,” said Shamus, looking at Darcie, searching for a sign that she wasn’t about to crumble.
“And who delivered the gift?” asked Henry.
“I imagine Cian had made arrangements for the painting before he died. He would have done something like that,” Shamus answered. Cian was many things: a crook, a thief, a killer. But he was also a devoted friend and father who always tried to make the few people he loved happy.
Everyone grew silent.
Connor gathered Darcie against him, whispering comforting words in her ear. So far, she was holding it together.
Darcie, with her head buried on Connor’s shoulder, considered everything. They knew nothing about this person. Was she even alive or who Shamus thought she was? And if she was, was she like Cian? Did she know about Darcie? If she knew about her, what did that mean? Was she dangerous? She didn’t look dangerous in the photograph. Then again, neither did Cian. And look how he turned out. There were simply too many unanswered questions.
Darcie lifted her head, then shared a look with Connor, and nodded before speaking. “Let’s not talk anymore about it tonight. Is that okay? We’ve enjoyed a beautiful dinner and Nan and Shamus just got home and Mom made a triple chocolate cake that I don’t want to be ruined. We can talk more about it later.”
Sylvia could see that her son and daughter-in-law had decided and wanted to enjoy what was left of their family dinner. So that’s what they would do. Sophie and Sondra gathered the dishes while Sylvia went to the kitchen to slice the cake.
The men all looked at each other. They’d faced enough threats to last a lifetime. The last thing they needed was another criminal in the mix. This mystery girl could be anyone and anything. They would honor Darcie’s wish, but soon all bets were off.