No Bark, All Bite #2
In it, my dad is sitting on a picnic blanket, holding a toddler up in the air.
The toddler has bright blonde hair and a gap-toothed smile.
Sitting next to my dad is a beautiful woman with long, pale blonde hair, and a toddler version of me is sitting on her lap with my fists in my mouth.
My mother sits on the other side of da, holding a baby version of Claire in a pink sunhat.
“That’s JJ,” I say, the tightness in my chest easing just a fraction as we move away from the solo portrait. “And that lady holding me is his Mam.”
Molly looks back and forth between the photo and the corner of the living room, where JJ is letting Lorraine balance a glittery butterfly clip on the bridge of his nose while he holds Atticus like a newborn baby.
“JJ is in a lot of these,” she notes, her eyes scanning the wall. And it’s the truth. JJ has always been a permanent fixture in the Blue household. Birthdays, Christmases, random Tuesdays. The blonde boy was always there, usually tucked right next to me.
“Yeah, he practically lived here growing up,” I explain, leaning my shoulder against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. “His mother and my parents all grew up together. We were born inseparable.”
“What about his dad?” Molly asks, her brow furrowing slightly as she searches the frames. “He’s not in any of these.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It wasn’t my secret, but JJ has never cared who knows.
It’s always just been a fact of his life.
“His da was a Russian doctor. Came over here for work, met Auntie Roisin, married her because she got pregnant. But he... well, he wasn’t exactly the family type. ”
Molly turns to face me fully now, her attention entirely locked onto my words. “What happened?”
“He left,” I say flatly. “Packed his bags when JJ was four and went back to Russia. Just up and vanished. Last we heard, he had a whole other family over there.”
Molly’s eyes soften, a flash of genuine sadness crossing her features. “Oh my god. That’s awful. Poor JJ.”
“Yeah. It was rough on them both. But my dad...” I pause, looking back at the picnic photo.
My dad, holding a laughing little JJ up to the sun.
“My dad was there. He practically raised JJ alongside us. Taught him how to kick a football, taught him how to ride a bike, everything. He was always a father figure to him.”
Molly stays quiet for a long moment. She looks back at JJ and her sister.
“That’s really sweet,” Molly says finally, her voice thick with emotion. She leans back against the wall next to me, our shoulders inches apart. “I have to admit... When I first met him, I thought he was just this massive goof-off. You know, loud, obnoxious, doesn’t take anything seriously.”
“Oh, he is all of those things,” I snort.
“But he’s sweet, too,” Molly corrects me, a fond smile touching her lips. “You can tell he cares deeply about the people he loves.”
I watch my best friend as he lets an eight-year-old girl put another hair clip in his hair, this one bright pink.
“Yeah,” I murmur, the truth of it settling over me. “He’s all bark, no bite.”
Molly turns her head toward me, her eyes catching the afternoon light filtering through the hallway window. “And what about you?”
“What about me?” I ask.
She takes a tiny step closer, and my heart hammers against my ribs like it's trying to escape. “Are you all bark and no bite, Niall?”
I look at her and can only think of last Saturday and the absolute terror of wanting to kiss her so badly it felt like I was drowning all over again.
And that feeling is creeping up for its encore.
I open my mouth to answer, to tell her that I didn’t know what the hell I was, but I get interrupted by a loud, triumphant cheer from the other side of the room.
“I made my decision!” Lorraine announces at the top of her lungs, standing on the coffee table with her hands on her hips.
The spell between Molly and I breaks. She lets out a breath that sounds a little shaky and turns away.
“Alright, let’s hear it,” Molly says, crossing her arms. “Which one is it?”
Lorraine points dramatically to the multi-coloured fluffball currently climbing up JJ’s foot. “Penelope. I want Penelope.”
“A fine choice,” JJ nods sagely, sitting up and adjusting his hair clips. “She has the heart of a warrior and the brains of a slightly damp sponge. She will serve you well.”
Lorraine giggles, scooping Penelope up and cradling her against her chest. The kitten immediately starts purring, nuzzling its wet nose against Lorraine’s chin. “Can we take her home today? Please, Molly?”
Molly sighs, looking entirely defeated by the combined force of her sister’s pleading eyes and the kitten’s cuteness. “We have to ask Mom first, or she’ll kill me. But... we can tell her you picked one out.”
“Yes!” Lorraine cheers, doing a little victory dance.
“We’ll hold onto her for you until you get the green light,” I assure Lorraine.
“You better,” she warns me, narrowing her eyes in a way that was eerily similar to her older sister. “She’s mine now.”
JJ stands up, brushing cat hair off his jeans. “Well, this calls for a celebration. Who wants crisps? I brought prawn cocktail.”
“Ew,” Lorraine wrinkles her nose. “Cheese and onion is better.”
“You wound me, tiny dancer,” JJ gasps, clutching his chest. “But fine. We’ll raid Niall’s cupboards. Come on.”
He holds out a hand, and Lorraine takes it without hesitation, the two of them marching toward the kitchen to pillage my mother’s pantry.
Molly and I are left alone in the sitting room again. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip lower, casting long, golden shadows across the carpet through the window. Shannon, Penelope and Atticus are now all curled up together in the basket, exhausted from the onslaught of attention.
“She really likes him,” Molly says, watching the empty doorway to the kitchen.
“Kids always do,” I reply, shoving my hands back into my pockets. “He’s basically a giant toddler.”
Molly laughs, a genuine, beautiful sound that made my chest ache in a completely different way than the memories on the photo wall did. She looks at me, her eyes soft and unguarded.
I swallow hard, holding her gaze. The urge to close the distance between us is so strong it was almost physical pain. But my knee doesn’t throb, and my head doesn’t spin. Everything is still.
Just do it. Take the jump.
The ghost of my father watches from the hallway. The water from my nightmares waits for me in the dark, waiting to catch me when I fall.
“C’mon,” Molly beckons, breaking me out of my trance. “Let’s go find a snack.”