Chapter 9
DONOVAN
Obviously, I’d hardly slept. Thoughts of my night with Charlie kept going around and around on a loop in my head. I always used a condom. I didn’t need to rack my brain or go over the events of the night in question. Wrapping up my dick came as easy to me as breathing.
People had always said that no contraception was one hundred percent effective, and it seemed people were right. I couldn’t work out what had happened; it was so long ago that I’d probably never know.
One thing I did know soul-deep was that Imogen was mine and that my life was about to get crazy. I loved change because of the excitement it brought with it, but this kind of change scared the bejesus out of me because of one simple fact.
I could build a bridge, load a rifle. I could even plan how to take down a group of insurgents from behind enemy lines. I could run a bar with my eyes closed and refurbish a goddamned gym.
But I didn’t have the faintest idea how to raise a daughter.
I wanted her; I think I already loved her in my own way, but I didn’t know if I was the best thing for her.
The thought of not being in Imogen’s life made my chest ache. I’d never factored having kids into my plans, but already the prospect of being without my little girl left a void so deep inside I worried it would swallow me whole.
But it wasn’t about me. I had to do my best for Imogen.
For hours, I lay in bed, staring unseeingly out of the window, watching the sky turn from dark to light, asking myself over and over if taking Imogen would be the right thing to do—not for me, but for her.
She was just a baby and had already been through some awful shit.
I’d been told by my da for most of my life that I didn’t have much to offer the world, so what if I wasn’t good for her?
What if she needed more?
It was impossible to get my head straight, so I got out of my hotel bed and got dressed. Then, I headed out early to buy fresh clothes, toiletries, and a damned phone charger. By the time I got back to the hotel room, put my phone on charge, and showered, my mam was due to arrive.
I made sure I’d bought enough clothes for a few days. God only knew how long it would take to sort my mess out. As I laced up my sneakers, my only thought was to find out the paternity results, meet Imogen, and then look at my options. I didn’t know what my rights were or if I even had any.
I checked my cell phone, which had been charging for about thirty minutes while I’d showered, shaved, and brushed my teeth. It was still low on juice but charged enough for me to check my emails and messages.
I clicked on my WhatsApp notifications and stilled when I saw the solitary message.
Posy: Hey. You’re late. Are we still going out?
A feeling of dread settled heavy in my gut, and slowly, I closed my eyes as one word filled my mind.
Fuck!
I clicked on Rosie’s number and held the phone to my ear, heaving out a frustrated breath as the call connected and went straight to voicemail.
“Ro, baby. I’m so sorry,” I croaked. “Something happened, and I’m in Nebraska. I’ll try and call you later to explain more. I’m so fucking sorry.” I ended the call and dropped my cell back on the dresser to let it charge some more.
How the hell had I forgotten our date?
Okay, so I’d had a life trauma, but there was no excuse for leaving her hanging like that. Jesus, what if Rosie had gotten all gussied up and I’d left her waiting around for me without a word of explanation?
I sank my ass down onto the mattress, leaned forward, and buried my head in my hands, thinking how I must have been losing the plot to forget something like that.
But in my defense, I wasn’t used to dating.
I couldn’t remember the last time I took a girl out officially, so it was alien to me.
When I asked Rosie to dinner, I had every intention of picking her up and romancing her, but after Tia called, everything else flew out of my head.
It was no excuse, but it was the truth. Still, now I had some making up to do because I was pretty damned sure that no woman liked being stood up. The heavy feeling in my gut intensified, and I rubbed at my temple, trying to alleviate the tension building in my head.
I hadn’t felt like this since I left the military.
It had taken me a while to reacclimatize at first. I struggled with the anxiety of being out in the world.
The Army had made me a man and built confidence and resilience in me.
I’d traveled all over the world and experienced cultures that some people could only dream of, but Army life was still insular.
Every day was spent with the same people, sometimes doing the same thing over and over.
I’d lived in a bubble, and when it finally popped, it was a culture shock to say the least.
Maybe my dad had been right all those years when he’d told me I was too self-absorbed to be in a relationship. I didn’t think I was, but what normal guy arranged a date and then never thought of it again?
My ringtone pealed, and my body jolted. I grabbed my cell, hoping it was Rosie calling me back, but Callum’s name flashed across the screen.
Clicking the green button, I held the phone to my ear and murmured, “Hey, bro.”
“Yo. Ma’s five minutes away.”
“I’ll head for reception now,” I told him.
“We’ll see you down there in ten,” Callum responded. “Maeve thinks you need to talk to Mam in private.”
I mentally cursed the shit show my life had become. “Right.”
“Good luck, little brother,” he crowed.
I let out a quiet snort, smiling ruefully, and replied, “Thanks. I think I’m gonna need it.”
—————
Tipping my head back, I reveled in the feeling of the warmth of the sun’s rays hitting my face. I’d just watched Ma pull into the parking lot from the bench situated right outside the inn we were staying at.
Our showdown was about to go one of two ways.
Ma would either be mad as a viper or sympathetic.
I suspected she’d had time to chill and prayed that the prospect of acquiring a new granddaughter superseded any murderous intentions she may have.
Still, going by my luck over the past few days, Mam may well have brought her frying pan along with her and was about to crack it round my skull like I’d seen her do to Da back in the day when he fucked around and found out.
The sound of heels clip-clopping alerted me to the fact that she was approaching, so I lowered my head and watched my ma walk toward me purposefully.
She was wearing her Sunday Service clothes.
We had no Catholic church in Hambleton, but that didn’t stop Maureen O’Shea from worshipping Sweet Jesus once a week.
She always said any church was better than no church and happily sang hymns along with the Baptists on a Sunday morning without a second thought.
Our eyes locked, and even though I could sense Ma’s disappointment, I could also detect excitement and even a sliver of hope. Maeve had done a great job in helping to get Ma’s anger out of the way, so we could have an honest heart-to-heart without tempers flaring.
She sat beside me and placed her purse on her lap.
“How was the drive?” I asked.
“Good,” she replied softly. “It gave me time to think.”
My hand snaked out and covered hers, and I murmured, “I’m sorry I let you down, Ma.”
Her head snapped around until she faced me, and her eyebrows furrowed. “You haven’t let me down, Son; you didn’t know. Am I shocked? Of course. But the only way you could let me down would be if you walked away from this baby.”
I was taken aback by her words, but I shouldn’t have been. Nobody knew me like my ma. We’d always had a bond, and she’d always seemed to understand the demons that lived in my head. Luckily, Ma also had a knack for knowing exactly what to say to help me overcome them.
“What if I’m bad for her?” I asked.
“Now tell me, how could you be bad for anyone with a heart that big, Donovan O’Shea?”
“But Da always said—”
She slashed a hand through the air and snapped, “Enough! When are you going to get it through your thick skull that your athair wasn’t always right?
He was a flawed man, and yes, I loved him, but if he were here now, I’d take a wooden spoon to him, I would.
” Mam’s hand rose to cup my cheek. “He was always hard on you because you were the free-spirited one who he couldn’t control.
Callum was his own man, but he ran everything past your da and always sought his approval, but you didn’t give two hoots what he thought, and it drove your da loo-lah.
My eyes darted between hers, and I smiled. “I did drive him loo-lah, didn’t I?”
Ma laughed softly. “And deep down, he admired you for it.”
Something warm slid through my stomach. “You think?”
“I don’t think, Son. I know. Lorcan was old school; he always believed that a son should grow up in the image of his father.
Your da did with his father, and so did Callum.
You didn’t, and it blindsided him. You were different from Lorcan, but you were never less; if anything, it made you more.
More imaginative, more resourceful, and definitely more independent.
So I repeat, how could you be bad for your baby girl when there’s so much inside you that’s more? ”
Emotions hit me from all sides, and my chest twisted with the brevity of Ma’s words.
I’d always felt like an outcast within the family, like somehow I was always missing the joke. My dad never told me he was proud of me; he never interacted with me at all really, except to tell me I was an idiot and not good for much.
All my good memories were wrapped up in my ma, and it hit me that Maureen O’Shea was a canny woman and not the type to blow smoke up my ass. If she believed I had more to me than I knew, I had to take that seriously.
“How do you feel?” Ma asked. “About my granddaughter Imogen?”
“I fell head over heels for her the second I saw her photograph. You should see her, Mam; she’s incredible.”