Chapter 16
Sophie had barely finished getting dressed when she made the call. She wasn’t sure why she expected her aunt Nan to be anywhere other than with Darcie right now. Of course, she was at Darcie’s. That was where Sophie should have been, too, and guilt tugged at her for not visiting sooner. But in her defense, she’d been… shall we say preoccupied.
She shoved that thought aside as she grabbed her coat and keys, and kissed Liam goodbye. She really ought to have brought him with her, but the only reason she was going to Darcie’s now was to talk about the painting, not to subject herself to an interrogation. And that’s exactly what it would turn into.
Or at least, that was the plan.
By the time she arrived, the house was full, the fire was crackling, and the tea was brewed. Sondra was sprawled across the couch like she had no intention of moving anytime soon, Sylvia sat comfortably with baby Sylvie asleep in her arms, and Nan was swaying back and forth rocking baby Hal in her arms. The room hummed with warmth and quiet laughter, the kind of easy comfort that came with the O’Brian family. Sophie smiled for a moment at the cozy scene. It was only recently she realized just how much she missed being here with her extended family.
“You’re late,” Sondra said, watching Sophie over the rim of her teacup. “Missed all the fun. Darcie was just trying to convince us she’s perfectly fine and doesn’t need to rest.”
Darcie sighed in mild frustration but smiled. She was sick to death of being stuck on bed rest. “I’m recovering, not fragile.”
“That’s debatable, love,” said Sylvia, as she gently tucked baby Sylvie’s blanket around her a little tighter.
“Would you like some tea?” asked Sondra. “There’s cake too. Don’t worry, I didn’t bake it, I bought it.”
“No, thanks. I actually came to talk to Aunt Nan, but it’s good that you’re all here. You need to hear this, too.”
That got their attention.
Shivering from the cold after being outside, Sophie settled herself beside Bootstrap, who was sprawled in front of the crackling fireplace. The warmth seeped into her chilled skin as she took a steadying breath, gathering her thoughts. Then, she explained what she’d learned about the painting, and Liam’s unexpected role in the whole unsettling business.
It didn’t take long, seeing as there wasn’t all that much to tell. There were still questions that needed answers obviously but at least part of the mystery was now cleared up—sort of.
Seeing as nothing more could be resolved, Sondra moved the conversation on. “Not that this isn’t fascinating but I want to hear about you and Liam. So, how was it?”
Sophie frowned. “What?”
Sondra waved a hand. “The sex, Sophie. You slept with him, right?”
Sophie nearly choked on absolutely nothing. “Excuse me?”
Darcie didn’t even look up from her cup of tea. “Just tell her, Sophie. She won’t stop until you do.”
Sophie turned toward Nan and Sylvia, expecting them to excuse themselves from the conversation or at the very least come to her aid, but instead, they exchanged knowing glances, neither one even pretending to be uninterested.
“Oh, for the love of—” Sophie threw up her hands. “Why does this family always assume?—”
Sondra grinned. “So that’s a yes.”
Sophie groaned. She was never getting out of this house unscathed. “H-How did you even know? Er, I mean, what makes you think we’ve done anything, anyway?”
Darcie shook her head with a chuckle. “Go on. Sondra has a nose for these things.” She of all people knew just how intuitive Sondra was.
Sondra sipped her tea and waited for an answer to her question.
Nan and Sylvia, both watching her with less than restrained impatience, were, of course, more than interested in the painting and Liam’s involvement. But it was painfully clear they were waiting for her to confess that she’d finally slept with Liam.
Unable to ignore their expectant looks, Sophie took a steadying breath. She hadn’t had this sort of conversation in so long she hardly remembered how. But seeing as she was never getting out of this house without some juicy girl talk she figured she may as well just come right out and say it. “It was beautiful.”
A chorus of coos filled the room.
“Then it was rabid.”
Sondra sat up on the sofa. She didn’t want to miss a single detail. She lived for this stuff. Then it occurred to her that this was not a conversation for tea. At least not straight tea. “Wait! Not another word until I come back.” She got up from the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying a bottle of whiskey. She poured hot tea and whiskey into a cup for Sophie instructing her to drink it down.
“I’ll take one of those,” said Nan. “I’ll just put this one to bed and we can have a proper chat.” With Hal asleep in her arms, she headed for the nursery.
“We’ll be right behind you Nan. Pour me one too, Sondra darling. I love a good dram with my gossip,” said Sylvia. She got up and carried Sylvie to the nursery.
When they returned, Darcie was sipping a fresh cup of hot sweetened tea, while Sophie had finished hers and was now drinking straight from the bottle. If she was going to share her most intimate secrets, she’d need more than just a cup of spiked tea.
Nan and Sylvia both grinned and shared a look. Things were about to get interesting really fast.
Sondra got up from the sofa and plopped on the other side of Bootstrap. She would not let Sophie drink alone. Besides, she was the one who put her on the spot. The least she could do was offer her moral support.
An hour later, Sophie took another swig from the bottle, warmth spreading through her as she leaned on Bootstrap, giving the shaggy dog a cuddle. What had started as a conversation about Sophie and Liam had quickly spiraled into a full-blown unloading session, with Sophie airing out baggage she hadn’t even realized she was still carrying. “…and then he left me for a stick insect blonde who has trouble with words having more than one syllable. But hey, the slut gave him a son.”
“What a piece of shite,” said Sondra, shaking her head. Until now, she’d had no idea what Sophie had been through.
“Exactly,” said Sophie. “I like you,” she declared.
“Thanks! You too!” Sondra clinked her cup against Sophie’s bottle and together they burst into laughter.
Sophie wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “You know, when Simon told us he was getting married, I just knew you were going to be either a gigantic bitch or a dingbat slut.” She hiccupped, then giggled. “I’m so glad you’re not a dingbat!”
Sondra threw her head back, laughing.
Sylvia smirked. “And Liam? I’ll take that bottle away from you if I have to.”
Sophie sighed, her smile turning softer. “Aw, Aunt Syl’, it’s been wonderful. Better than I ever imagined. He’s still Liam. Still kind, dependable, generous, understanding…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know how feckin’ great Liam is. What about the sex?” demanded Nan.
“Best of my life. You could crack a walnut between his thighs.”
“That will come in handy at Christmas,” Nan teased.
A chorus of cheers erupted around the room, and Sylvia, shaking her head, lifted her teacup. “I’ll drink to that!”
Connor arrived home to find his living room filled with laughter from the women in his life and what a cheerful sound it was. It warmed his heart hearing that sound. After quietly stepping into the nursery to see his twins fast asleep in their crib, he returned to the living room. “Hello, love,” he said, entering the room. Darcie beamed from across the room. Before he could go to her, Sylvia reached over her head to her son, beckoning him to her. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Hello, Mum,” he said affectionately.
“What about me? What am I, chopped liver?” said Nan.
Connor went to his aunt and kissed her on the cheek. “Are all of you drunk?” he said with amusement.
“I’m not!” proclaimed Darcie with a silly smile. She hadn’t touched a drop of whiskey but she also hadn’t laughed this much in weeks.
With righteous indignance Sondra stated, “We are not drunk.”
“Yet!” said Sophie finishing Sondra’s sentence. The pair burst into giggles.
Connor shook his head with a chuckle. It was good to see Sophie and Sondra getting along so well and even better to see his wife’s bright smile.
“Wait till you hear what Sophie told us,” said Darcie.
“Darcie! You can’t tell him that!”
Darcie gasped a little and blushed. “No, not that. I meant about the painting.”
Connor perched himself on the arm of his wife’s chair and listened as the four women all told him about the painting. He blinked in disbelief. “You’re joking. Liam painted it?”
Nan nodded her head. “It’s signed under a different name, so I had no idea.”
“Yeah, Rory O’Toole is his pseudonym.”
Connor shook his head. “Well, that clears that up but?—”
“We know, it doesn’t help much.”
“True, but it’s good to know.” Connor shook his head again and closed his eyes for a moment. Cian was dead and yet still causing trouble in their lives. Would this ever be over? Well, there was no sense in going down that road now. They had no leads on the mystery girl in the photograph but at least they now knew where the painting came from.
Sophie held out the bottle in Connor’s direction. “I bet you could use a drink of this right about now.”
Connor stepped over to Sophie and took the bottle then tipped it back.
“Feel better?” she asked.
“Nearly.” He returned to Darcie, tipped her head back, sinking his fingers into her hair, and kissed her good and long. “Better.”