Chapter 16
sixteen
PATRICK O’FAOLAIN
“Something is going on with our son,” Patrick growled over his shoulder while he flipped pancakes for the impromptu family breakfast.
Breakfast tended to be at his and River’s flat on the second floor of the O’Faolain building since he enjoyed cooking.
His brother, Bran and sister-in-law Raven, arrived a moment ago.
His half-brother, Ulf, had stayed in their extra bedroom last night, so his dour presence was counted.
He was ferrying back to Wales today after he met his son, Dagr, and Dagr’s wife, Bébhinn, who was Patrick’s niece and sister, and Rowan’s daughter, for lunch.
River had cajoled Ulf long enough last night that he’d finally relented to sleep over instead of going to a hotel, and clearly had regrets about his interrupted routine.
Dagr and Bébhinn had stopped by last evening on their way to a charity dinner that Bébhinn had helped plan to tell the family the big news.
Bébhinn was pregnant, only a few months. She admitted that she couldn’t keep it a secret from her mom another minute. She was not due until early next summer.
All of them had been overjoyed with the news. Still, there had been a moment during the hugs, kisses, and congratulations that Bébhinn and Rowan had burst into tears—not the joyful kind.
His father’s passing still weighed heavily on all of them. Hugh would have loved a new wee one to cuddle and spoil. He would have loved to see his wife become a grandmother and to see his daughter hold her first child.
It had taken considerable effort on everyone’s part to dispel the dark mood, but eventually the tears dried, and they sent the happy parents-to-be off.
Patrick, however, was still frustrated over his son’s recent attitude. His boy was unhappy, upset about something. Whatever it was, Jonathan wasn’t opening up to him like he normally would.
“Is he concerned about taking the Architects Register Admission Exam?” Bran asked.
“Surely not,” Raven chimed in. “I’ve never seen anyone with more talent. He’s been working with the firm we use for new builds or reconstructions since he got his bachelor’s.”
“Yeah,” Rowan, who had just arrived, added. “He had no trouble with his masters, and he speaks positively about the projects the firm allows him to collaborate on.”
“I don’t believe it has anything to do with his job or the ARAE exam. Daniel hasn’t said anything to you?” Patrick asked his brother.
“No, only that neither of them took dates to the Gray Eyes event last night, which was new for the two of them, but Daniel seemed fine with it.”
Patrick looked at his wife, River. “You’re awfully quiet.” Very quiet. Very un-River-like. The moment he called on his wife, he watched her eyes flick to first Raven and then Rowan.
“You know something.” That wasn’t a question. The question was why she was keeping secrets. They never kept secrets from each other.
He flicked his own glance to first Daniel and then Ulf. They shrugged but nodded toward the women. As if they’d choreographed the move, River’s sisters moved to sit on either side of her at the kitchen bar.
Patrick flicked the heat off on the range before turning his attention to the three smiling women. They still looked so alike, it made his heart pound to see them side by side, remembering when he, Bran, and their dad met the sisters for the first time.
Not letting happy memories fog his train of thought, he asked, “Well, wife?”
“I, no, we,” she corrected, glancing again at her sisters who nodded agreement, “think Jonathan’s in love.”
“But there is a problem,” Raven added.
“A big problem,” Rowan agreed and winced.