Chapter 3
Aoife
T he social worker didn’t show up again for over a week.
I barely slept, listening for the sound of my mother sneaking out in the middle of the night.
With every day that passed, I worried more about her ability to stay home and relatively sober.
Thankfully, she didn’t start mixing her drinks until late in the afternoon and kept it under control until I’d gotten the youngest kids in bed.
After that, she was a no-holds-barred mess of stumbling, ranting, weeping, and dancing until she passed out somewhere downstairs.
The kids were finally out of school for summer break, the fridge and cupboards were filled with groceries that I knew would be decimated long before I was ready to go shopping again, and Richie had come over to hang with us for the day when we finally got a knock on the front door.
“Shit,” I muttered, freezing as I glanced toward the door.
“Might not be her,” Richie murmured, wrapping his long fingers around the back of my neck consolingly.
“It better fucking be,” I replied, pulling away as I headed for the door. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep Mandy home. “Mom!” I yelled. “There’s someone at the door!”
My heart thudded in my chest as my mom came out of her room, thankfully fully dressed with brushed hair and lipstick. Running my eyes over her, I held back a grimace. She didn’t look good, she hadn’t in a long time, but at least she was sober.
“Well, open it,” she said, her tone completely neutral.
“Hi,” Judy said, smiling that fake smile at me again. “I came by last week—”
“Yeah, I remember,” I replied. “You want to talk to my mom?”
“Is she available?” Judy asked, a thread of…something behind her words.
“Mom, it’s for you,” I said, swinging the door open wide.
As Mom greeted the social worker, I went straight to the kitchen. I’d planned ahead, knowing Judy would be back. I didn’t want the kids anywhere near that woman. Reaching into the back of the spice cupboard, I pulled out the bag that I’d hidden there.
“Water balloons!” Ronan yelled, completely oblivious to what was happening in the living room. “Where did those come from?”
“Take them out back?” I asked Richie, handing him the bag of water balloons.
“No problem,” he said, kissing my head. “Let’s go, jokers!” he called out.
The younger two ran out the back slider, but Saoirse and Cian stubbornly kept their places at the table.
“Please,” I said quietly, looking between them. “I don’t want her to even look at you.”
Saoirse immediately got to her feet, glumly following Richie out back, but Cian remained seated.
“Cian.”
“The fuck is she gonna do?” he asked, scowling toward the living room.
“Hopefully nothing,” I replied, stepping closer. “Don’t give her a reason, yeah?”
He swore under his breath and got up. “Keep an eye on her?”
“I will.”
With a nod, he went outside, closing the slider behind him.
My hands were shaking, but I’d already left Mandy alone too long with the woman who could completely upend our lives, so I strode back into the living room like I didn’t have a care in the world.
“—you understand why there’d be some concern,” Judy was saying to Mom, perched at the edge of the couch.
“Of course I’m sure your oldest is very responsible, but leaving an eighteen-year-old to take care of four children for long periods of time is a recipe for disaster—as we have seen from the reports of your youngest on the roof. ”
I didn’t correct her that Ronan wasn’t the youngest. The less she knew about us, the better.
“Aoife isn’t the parent here,” Mom said so firmly that I almost believed her. “I am, and I’m perfectly capable of parenting my own children.”
“Yes, well—”
“I’ve spoken with Ronan about climbing out his window, and it won’t happen again,” Mom continued.
She shrugged nonchalantly, and my mouth almost dropped open in surprise.
She was playing the part so well. “He has a bit of an obsession with astronomy, so we’ve agreed that a telescope in the backyard is a far safer way to look at the stars. ”
The bullshit was so thick I could taste it.
Ronan didn’t give a shit about the stars.
The kid was an adrenaline junkie. He climbed onto the roof because it was high and dangerous.
I watched on in amazement as my mom played her part perfectly.
Part of me didn’t want it to end because it was as if I was watching the mother I’d had before Dad died.
The one who was present and supportive and fucking normal.
I watched as Mom gave Judy a tour of the house, apologizing about the mess in the boys’ room like she’d actually been upstairs in the last year.
They made their way into the kitchen while Mom talked about the cost of groceries and feeding growing boys and a picky eight-year-old.
By the time Judy made moves to leave the house, she was practically eating out of my perfect mother’s palm.
“I’ll make note of all of this,” Judy said as my mom guided her toward the front door. “From what I can see, I don’t think we’ll have any reason to visit again.” She chuckled. “As long as there aren’t any more kids on the roof!”
I stood at the window and watched until her car left the curb out front, and then it felt as if my entire body deflated.
“She gone?” Mom asked, still standing by the front door.
“She’s gone,” I confirmed.
“Thank Christ,” Mom muttered, walking back to her room. “I need a drink.”
Richie found me on the couch sometime later, my hands still shaking as I stared blankly at the blank TV screen.
“How’d it go?” he asked, dropping down beside me.
“Incredible,” I rasped back. I still couldn’t believe it. “I wish you could’ve seen her. My mom should’ve been on the stage. It was fucking masterful.”
“That’s good, right?” he asked tentatively.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“I really wish you could’ve seen her,” I repeated, looking over at him. I wasn’t even sure how to explain what I was feeling. “But I’m glad the kids didn’t.”
“Why’s that?” he whispered, his eyes on mine.
“Because it was like looking back in time,” I whispered back.
“Like when we were little. She was charming and self-deprecating and warm. She was my mam again for a few minutes. If she hadn’t gotten so many things about the kids wrong— Aisling isn’t the picky eater, Ronan is—I would’ve worried I’d fallen into the Twilight Zone. ”
“So, she’s still in there somewhere,” he said thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” I breathed. I shook my head. “But I doubt we’ll see her again.”
“What happened?” Cian asked, stomping into the house. He was soaked.
“We ran out of balloons pretty fast,” Richie explained. “So I pulled out the hose.”
“Yeah, Dick didn’t play fair,” Cian said dismissively. “What happened?”
“All good,” I replied, standing up. “She said there’s no reason to visit again.”
“Mom showed up.” Cian’s relief was visible.
“She deserves an Oscar,” I confirmed.
“Thank Christ,” he muttered. His tone and inflection were so similar to my mom’s that I jerked in surprise.
“I’m going to go tell Sersh,” I said, rounding him. “Grab a towel and clean up the floor. You’re getting water everywhere.”
I’d made it to two steps from the slider before strong arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me off the floor.
“What are you doing?” I squeaked, squirming as Richie laughed. “Put me down.”
“I think you deserve a little fun,” he replied, carrying me outside while I flailed. “You seem very…dry. And it’s such a hot day—”
“Don’t you dare,” I warned as the kids came into view.
My mouth snapped shut as I watched Saoirse squeal and duck behind Aisling.
Ronan had the hose, and he was using it to his advantage, his thumb over the end of it to make it spray wildly in the girls’ direction.
He belly laughed. Aisling charged him, and getting sprayed directly in the face didn’t deter her as she tackled him.
They went down in a tangle of limbs, their laughter filling the yard, and while they were distracted, my quiet, serious pre-teen sister snatched up the dropped hose and turned it on them, laughing maniacally.
“Sersh,” Richie called. “I’ve got another one for you!” He carried me forward.
“Don’t do it,” I yelled, pushing at Richie’s arms. “I’m an innocent bystander!”
Saoirse grinned and turned the hose on us, completely unrepentant.
I gasped as the cold water hit me in the chest. Ronan roared with laughter.
“Muah-ha-ha,” Saoirse roared.
The only consolation was that Richie was just as wet as I was by the time we wrestled the hose out of her hands. Unfortunately, Cian had rounded the house carrying the front yard hose, and it turned into an all-out war.
By the time we’d turned off the hoses, my fingers were like little prunes, the kids were sprawled out breathless in the yard around me, and I could feel my shoulders sizzling from the sun.
“I’m guessing it went okay?” Saoirse asked quietly from beside me, her eyes on the sky.
“All good, sister,” I assured her. “Mom did great.”
“Thank the good Lord,” she murmured. My eyes widened as she smiled. “Remember when he used to say that?”
“Of course,” I whispered. She’d copied our dad’s accent and inflections perfectly. “Friday night and no work until Monday. Thank the good Lord,” I said, mimicking him, too.
She giggled. “I miss him.”
“Me too.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Every day.”
“Table fit through the door,” Cian said from her other side. “Thank the good Lord.” His accent was perfect, too.
“Aoife brought home perfect marks from school,” Saoirse said. “Thank the good Lord.”
“Cian didn’t fail a single class.” I kept it going. “Thank the good Lord.”
We laughed.
“Saoirse’s got my eyes,” Cian said, his voice a little lower. “Thank the good Lord.”
“Did he really say that?” Saoirse asked, turning her head toward Cian.
“More than once,” I answered for him. “He was pissed that me and Cian got Mom’s.”
“Ronan has the same eyes as me,” she pointed out.