The Need for Space
Chapter forty-four
WRAITH
áine is out with McLaren and Maureen is in the kitchen with her tea and whatever branch of the Dougal family tree she's currently excavating when the girls ask if they can talk to me.
Sadie turns off the television they've been watching while I worked on my laptop. I don’t go into the office on the weekends now and only conduct critically necessary mob business.
I'm a family man now.
Neeve shifts from the couch to sit on the coffee table facing me. Sadie turns in her corner of the couch so she's facing me too. Joy slides up to perch on the arm of the couch.
Sadie speaks first. "You're rich, right?" She blushes. "I mean, you took us to Disneyland in a private jet. You make more money than mom."
"I am and I do," I confirm easily.
I don't want the girls to worry about asking me anything they want to know. I won't always be able to answer, especially when they get old enough to realize what it means for me to work for Mick Fitzgerald, but when I can, I will.
Sadie twists the hem of her T-shirt around one finger. "We were wondering something."
"Okay."
She shoots me a look that is half exasperation and half embarrassment. "It's kind of a big thing."
"Nothing is too big for you to ask me." That's something they need to know.
I'm their dad. I won't always give them what they want. Maybe. But I will always give them a listening ear.
She glances at her sisters.
Neeve nods.
Joy gives two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Sadie takes a breath. "We think we should move into a bigger apartment." The words tumble out so fast they almost run together.
"We'll help pack," Sadie offers quickly.
Neeve nods. "All of us."
Joy points at herself. "I'm really good at carrying stuffed animals."
"I've seen your technique."
She beams.
I wasn't expecting this. "Your mom doesn't want to throw too many changes at you girls at once."
áine's pretty adamant the girls aren't ready to move to a house, but that's not what they're saying.
Joy starts swinging her legs against the side of the couch.
"I think this would be a good change," Sadie says. "It's not too much when it's good, right?"
Neeve smiles shyly at me. "The best change. Like when mom married you."
These girls.
No one ever told me that loving three little humans could hurt like having a heart attack.
"Too many people live here," Joy says with little girl wisdom.
"You're telling me," Sadie says fervently. "I have to keep my clothes in Mom's closet. I don't even know where you keep yours."
Most of my clothes are still at the Bunker. Not that I have a lot, but even my limited wardrobe is too much to fit with both áine and Sadie's things in the closet and dresser.
"My crayons and new markers live under Gran's bed." Joy wrinkles her nose, clearly unhappy by that state of affairs.
Neeve sighs. "I have to get up before everybody else if I want to straighten my hair."
"Because you take forever," Joy says.
"I do not."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You really do."
Sadie points between them. "Focus."
They both look chastened for nearly three seconds.
Then Joy whispers loudly, "She takes forever."
Neeve nudges her with a foot. "I heard that."
"I know."
I wait.
Eventually they remember why they're here.
Sadie looks back at me.
"I think Mom would like another bathroom."
Neeve snorts. "She says so every morning."
Joy nods solemnly.
"And every night when Gran's taking a bath and Sadie's brushing her teeth and Neeve's doing her hair and I have to pee."
Neeve covers her face. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"You didn't have to say that."
"It's true."
"It is," Sadie admits.
Joy shrugs. "I thought honesty was important."
"It is," I say.
She smiles at me. Vindicated.
Sadie looks at the floor. "I just..." She swallows. "I think everybody would be happier."
"Gran could have under her bed back," Joy says like that's a hugely winning argument.
I fight a smile.
"Mom should only have to share her room with you," Sadie says and then blushes.
Neeve nods.
Joy slides off the arm of the couch and kneels beside me on the couch, her little hands clasped in pleading. "If we had another bedroom, I could play princess tea party without everybody telling me to be quiet."
"You are very loud," Neeve says with a frown.
Joy smiles proudly. "I know."
Neeve rolls her eyes. "You narrate the tea party."
"The princesses need directions."
"They really don't."
"They do if they're pirates too."
I consider that. "A fair point."
Neeve is clearly unconvinced.
Sadie looks at me earnestly. "We're not trying to be greedy."
"I know."
"We just thought..." She looks at me with trust that I will never betray. "You're our dad now."
Neeve nods. "So this is the kind of thing we should ask you."
I nod. "You're right."
Sadie's shoulders relax with relief. Neeve's grin is as big as Joy's. "Really?"
"Really." They're not asking for extravagance. They're asking for permanence. For room to grow. For enough bathrooms that mornings don't begin with negotiations. For enough closets that nobody lives out of someone else's.
For a place that's our family home.
Suddenly I want that too. So much, it doubles the ache in my chest.
They came to me. Not their mother. Not Maureen. Me. Because they believed I could fix it.
"Leave it with me." It's the easiest promise I've ever made.
The girls disappear down the hall arguing over whose room would be biggest in a house we don't own.
I watch them go.
They're already planning for forever. And that settles something deep inside me.
"You handled that well." Maureen passes me a mug of tea on her way to her recliner.
I rub the back of my neck. "I'll talk to áine."
Maureen shakes her head. "I know my daughter. She's holding back because she's afraid to believe this is permanent. Afraid if she lets herself trust what you have together, you'll disappear and she'll be left picking up the pieces again."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." She takes a sip of tea. "Do you think I'd have let you marry my daughter otherwise?"
Amused by her confidence that she could have stopped it, I say, "No."
Maybe she could have at that. The only woman with a more formidable will than my wife, is her mother.
Maureen pulls her knitting out. "I'm going to assume you're a man who knows it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission."
"Depends on who you're asking forgiveness from." You do something that needs forgiveness in the mob and chances are that forgiveness comes with a bodybag.
"True. True. Trust me, in this situation, presenting áine with a fait accompli will be better than letting her fears dictate your family's future."
"You think that's what's going on?"
For several seconds the only sound is the clacking of Maureen's knitting needles.
"Those girls are looking for proof you're not going anywhere," Maureen says finally. "áine is too, whether she admits it or not. You living with us instead of out of your suitcase is one way to give them that."
I live here, but it's true that there's no room for my things, so they're still at the Bunker. Maybe that's the real reason behind the girls asking for a bigger place to live. They want to know I'm moved in.
"You're moving with us, right?" Maybe my mother-in-law wants to live on her own.
She disabuses me of that thought fast. "Those girls still need their granny."
I nod. "Pretty sure we all do."
I had no idea when I decided to save áine that I was the one whose life was getting better.
She smiles at me complacently. "As it should be."
As it should be.
Fuck, she reminds me of gran.