Page 93 of More Than Words

“My girl knows her shit,” Hutch teased, helping his daughter rake the skittles from the pot in the center of the table into the pile sitting in front of her.

“Kid is a card shark,” Pops laughed, beaming as he watched his great-granddaughter. Today was a good day, but my mind still wandered to how Isobel was doing.

She’d been shaken after the whole book launch debacle, but thankfully Chase’s friends had tracked Evan down and gotten him on a plane by mid-morning. Sam was keeping me apprised by text, so I assumed Kristine was doing the same, but it killed me to respect Is’ wishes and give her some space.

“Quit being a pussy and take your cards.” Hutch’s teasing broke the trance I was in, and I laughed as Ma yelled from the other room.

“And you, Hutchins O’Neill, need to keep yah mouth shut around yah impressionable daughta’.” It still amused me that after all these years, my Ma’s accent had never changed. I would have thought working in an emergency room downtown would’ve made her adapt, but she was Southie born and bred.

“I don’t think she realizes Pen goes to a public school,” Hutch laughed while Pops shook his head.

“He’s right,” his almost thirteen-year-old agreed, “And Donny’s way worse than you guys.”

Hutch frowned, looking irritated as his jaw clenched. Donny had once been his best friend, but when he’d slept with Hutch’s wife while he was recovering after the failed mission that took part of his leg in a hospital in Germany, that friendship had imploded even more spectacularly than an IED.

“Is that so?” he asked, and Penny’s eyes widened when she realized her dad was not pleased with that information.

Deciding to change the subject, I asked Penelope about what she’d been doing lately, and her plans for summer break.

“Ma wants me to keep taking dance lessons, but ballet is boring as fuck.”

“Penelope Ann O’Neill, watch yah mouth,” Ma scolded from the kitchen, clearly still eavesdropping with her hawklike ears.

“I changed the box on the application for summer dance to hip hop. She’ll probably lose her…” she trailed off, mouthing the word shit. “But since she’s too busy puking up her guts right now, she won’t know until the end of the summer recital. I also got Dad to enroll me in the babysittin’ course at the Y. Then I can start makin’ some money, so I don’t have to beg her for an allowance.”

“You shouldn’t lie to your mother,” Pops scolded, studying the cards in his hand. “Even if she is a cheating cun—“

“Liam Patrick, don’t even think about it,” Ma yelled again, and we all started laughing.

It wasn’t a secret that no one in this household, including Pen, was a fan of Helena Parker, formerly O’Neill.

“Where’s Isobel?” Hutch asked when we started playing again, skittles clinking against the surface of the dented table in the den as we all called.

“Who’s Isobel?” Pops asked, looking between us.

Fuck.

“Adrian’s lady friend from work. They’ve been bangin’ out a project together,” Hutch answered, smirking as he gave me an out from having to explain who she was. I was afraid to mention the baseball game, knowing he’d get agitated if he didn’t remember. But he surprised me.

“Oh yeah. The one from the Sox game. You should bring her around sometime,” Pops suggested, never looking up from his cards. “She was too good for you, but I liked her.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” I agreed, wishing he’d have more lucid days so he might meet his grandchild next year. I hated he didn’t initially remember meeting Isobel, but he’d pretty much given me his seal of approval at the game that day, so I knew he’d like her.

Part of me was eager for her IUD to get removed, so we could start trying for real instead of getting in lots of practice, but the other part of me was scared shitless. What if—despite our test results—it didn’t happen? If I couldn’t knock her up, would she break up with me? Would she find a donor?

While I would absolutely raise another man’s child if it came to that, I wanted her child to be mine.

“Your call,” Hutch said, waving his hand in front of my face.

“Fold.” Tossing my cards into the center of the table, I stood and shoved my phone into my pocket. “I think I’m gonna head home. Do you need me to give Pen a ride to Lena’s?”

“Nah.” Hutch waved me off. “I’ll walk her back. It’s nice out today, and it’s only a few blocks.”

Nodding, I popped into the kitchen to say goodbye to Ma, taking the container of leftovers she shoved into my hands.

As I headed back toward the city, I briefly thought about detouring to Isobel’s apartment to make sure she’d eaten today, but knew I would see her in the morning.

Evan called two weeks into the book tour, and I hesitated to pick up, since I was waiting for Isobel to meet me for lunch.

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