Chapter 10
Aoife
“H e’s here,” Aisling said excitedly, smacking at Saoirse’s hands as she burst out of the chair and went running for the door.
Saoirse stared at the empty chair. “I was almost done with her hair.”
“We’ve got time,” I said easily. I’d thought that I would be nervous or anxious on my wedding day, but I wasn’t.
There was nothing easier than marrying Richie.
If it had been up to him, we would’ve gotten married the year after I got guardianship of the kids when he’d put an engagement ring on my finger.
He’d been able to afford it because we never moved out of my family home.
We hadn’t seen the point since it was paid off, and I’d been determined to give the kids as much normalcy as I could.
They’d been able to grow up in the same place where they made all of their first memories. I was proud of that.
With the little money left from Dad’s insurance policy, and a surprisingly large policy he’d set up for my mom before he died, I’d been able to go to college and get an accounting degree, and there was enough left over to help any of the kids who decided to go to college after me.
It was something that I’d never imagined would be possible for any of us, and I thanked my dad daily for taking care of us long after he was gone.
Saoirse smiled at me as the sounds of Harley engines shut off abruptly outside.
“He brought someone with him.”
“He always does,” I mused.
My heart had stopped when Cian had come home on an old Harley the week after his eighteenth birthday, and he’d nearly broken it when he drove out to Oregon a month later to look up the bikers we’d met on our mad dash to Aunt Ashley.
My consolation had been the visits he made at least once a month since then.
It wasn’t enough, but I’d made peace with it.
All I wanted was for my kids to be happy, confident, and secure in themselves and the knowledge that Richie and I would always be there for them when they needed us. Cian had all that, so I refused to complain.
At least out loud. In my head, I worried incessantly, but that wasn’t anything new.
“Boys aren’t allowed,” Aisling said from outside the door.
“I think that’s just the groom,” my brother replied, swinging it open.
He took one step inside and froze.
“ Ah, Mam ,” he said softly. “You’re gorgeous.”
The accent barely came out anymore, even when he was emotional, but it was clear as day then.
I did a little twirl. “Yeah?”
“Richie’s gonna shit himself.”
“Jesus, I hope not,” I replied, my laughter a little watery. “Was the drive okay?”
“It was fine, stop worrying,” he replied, coming further into the room.
He was wearing a black leather vest that had become as familiar as the sound of his motorcycle engine. It had far fewer patches than the ones I remembered on the bikers from all those years ago, but he assured me he’d fill it up, once he’d earned it. Whatever that meant.
“Who’d you bring with you?” I asked as he leaned in for a hug.
“Shit, I don’t want to touch you and mess up this dress,” he muttered, gingerly wrapping his arms around me.
“Screw the dress.”
He laughed. “Brought Bas and Brody,” he said as he let me go. “That cool?”
“Sure.” I’d also gotten used to Cian bringing friends home. They were all sweet and respectful and a little rough around the edges. They fit right in.
“Dang, Sersh,” Cian said, finally noticing our sister on the opposite side of the room. “Lookin’ good.”
“Less effusive than what you gave Mam,” she said, striking a pose in her bridesmaid dress. “But I’ll allow it.”
It had started with Cian. A month later, Aisling and Ronan started calling me Mam, too.
Saoirse started the day the guardianship was finalized.
I hadn’t made a big deal out of it, but each time they used the name, something inside me tightened and released at the same time.
The acknowledgment of who I was to them was never unwelcome.
Richie wasn’t ever Dad , but most of the time the younger ones called him Pop.
He wasn’t as good at hiding how much it meant to him.
Cian teased him about it only once before realizing that it was important.
He’d dropped it since then. He’d even used it a few times.
I only knew because after we climbed into bed at night, when the house was quiet around us, Richie would quietly tell me about it, his voice rough.
“You better go get dressed,” I ordered Cian. “We’ve only got an hour.”
“Oh, yeah, did Richie’s parents shit a brick when you drove into their fancy driveway on your motorcycle?”
“They were extremely polite,” Cian replied, his smile mischievous. “I left Bas and Brody downstairs making small talk.”
I groaned. Poor Bas had pierced his face in so many places, he looked like a pin cushion. Of course, I’d never tell him that…but it was excessive.
“Go,” I said, shooing him toward the door. “Save your friends and send Ash back up here. Her hair isn’t finished.”
“I’m going,” he said defensively. “See you down there.”
He passed Aunt Ashley on his way out.
“Hello, handsome,” she said cheerfully.
“I’ve been ordered downstairs,” he said, walking backward.
“As it should be. Aisling’s practicing her flirting, go save your friends.”
Cian laughed as he disappeared.
“All ready?” Aunt Ashley asked, closing the door behind her.
She’d been a constant presence in our lives.
I saw her more often than I saw Cian anymore, even though they lived fifteen minutes from each other.
Her motorhome had been parked in our driveway for the past week while she helped us get ready for the wedding, and she was staying for another full week with the kids so that they didn’t burn the house down while Richie and I went on our honeymoon.
“I’m ready,” I said, carefully sitting down on the edge of Richie’s childhood bed. “Saoirse still needs to do her makeup and Aisling’s hair.”
“I’m working on it,” Saoirse chimed in, leaning close to the mirror as she drew on eyeliner.
“It looks beautiful out back,” Aunt Ashley said. “Everything is perfect.”
“Richie’s mom wouldn’t have it any other way,” I joked.
Richie’s parents were still awesome. I didn’t think we’d ever be close, but I had nothing to complain about.
“You should see Cian’s friend,” Aisling said, bursting into the room.
I opened my mouth to remind her that she’d met Bas plenty of times before, but she kept talking.
“He’s gorgeous. Like, model pretty. Like…Richie, but better .”
“High praise,” Aunt Ashley said with a laugh.
Aisling stared at Saoirse, waiting for a reaction that never came.
“Seriously, Sersh!”
“Come sit down,” Saoirse ordered. “I need to finish your hair.”
“He’s beautiful ,” Aisling said with relish as she plopped down in the chair.
“And?” Saoirse replied. “He’s also Cian’s friend and lives in Oregon .”
Aisling’s mouth snapped shut in irritation.
“I’m going to go down and make sure no one takes my seat,” Aunt Ashley said with a wink.
“You’re in the front row,” I reminded her. “And there are like twenty people coming.”
“I also want to check out that friend,” she joked as she headed for the door. “I only saw the back of him.”
“Just wait,” Aisling said with relish. “It’s extreme.”
I rolled my eyes as Aunt Ashley left, laughing.
It felt like hardly any time had passed before Cian was at the bedroom door again, dressed in his tux.
“I’m not wearing that tie,” he announced, fidgeting with the open neck of his shirt. “It was strangling me.”
“You’re such a baby,” Saoirse said as she moved past him. “Beauty is pain, bro.”
“I’m fine being ugly,” Cian shot back.
“It looks better without the tie,” Aisling said with a shrug as she followed Saoirse toward the stairs.
“You ready?” Cian asked, putting his hand out for me.
“I’ve been ready,” I replied, grabbing my bouquet off the dresser.
I put my hand in his, and he tucked it into the crook of his elbow as we moved down the hallway.
“I feel like I should say something about killin’ him if he hurts you,” Cian said quietly. “But it’s Richie .”
I laughed.
“The guy’s always worshipped you,” he said, carefully leading me down the stairs. “I don’t see that changing.”
“It won’t,” I replied confidently, squeezing his bicep.
“Love you, Mam,” Cian said as we came to a stop at the back door, watching as Ronan escorted Saoirse down the aisle, Aisling trailing behind them. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, bud,” I whispered back.
As Saoirse and Aisling walked to one side of the aisle and Ronan took his place next to Richie, my throat grew tight with emotion, and I tightened my hold on Cian’s arm.
All of my family was in one place. Happy. Safe. Celebrating.
Richie had been right. Sometimes things did work out. We were living proof of that.
Keep reading for a sneak peek of
The Hawthornes: Myla