Page 57 of Question Everything

Maeve should not have been surprised to find Finn seamlessly blending into Kyle’s family dynamic. He could easily keep up with Tim and Conor’s stories, entertaining the group with some of his own. Plus, everyone wanted to know about how he planned Maeve’s escape from England. As Maeve got ready to go upstairs with Daisy to feed her without distractions, she saw them sitting around the kitchen table. Sibby was with them, drinking coffee as they waited for the mailman to arrive with the DNA results.

“Good morning,” Maeve said to the gathered group. “So sorry for all of this…”

“Maeve!” Sibby said, walking to the table to stand behind her brother. “You have a British accent!”

Maeve hadn’t paid attention to the sound of her own voice but at Sibby’s words, she realized that her transformation was complete. She had returned to her true self. Mia Sawyer was dead again, this time gone forever. Feeling in that moment like herself once more, she said, “I guess it’s time to call me by my real name. I’m Maeve Byrne, and I’m glad to know each one of you.” But she had no time to ruminate on this change. She had work to do and not a lot of time to get it all done.

“Maeve…” Tim began. “The name suits you, now that you mention it. More than Mia did, somehow.”

“Where’d you get those falsified documents?” Conor asked Finn, seemingly nonplussed by Maeve’s admission. He stayed on topic. “The driver’s license looks authentic, so does this passport.” Maeve’s papers had been left out on the table for all to see.

“I have a network of friends who work behind the scenes at various municipal authorities. Plus, those documents look real because they are real. I’m not about fakes. I know people who can get into any system and produce paperwork when necessary. And in Maeve’s case, it was an emergency. We knew that word had gotten out and The Firm was made aware of Daisy’s existence. We had no time to waste. I had those papers in less than twenty-four hours. Then we wiped the internet clean of any trace of her. Birth records, newspaper stories about the bakery, address, mobile number – all of it.”

“What is it that you do for business again, Finn?” Tim asked pointedly.

“I don’t think I mentioned it before, but it really doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I’m a dealmaker and leave it there.”

“A dealmaker for who?” Tim asked, pressing Finn harder for information.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Sibby said as she brought out a large tray of pastries baked by Maeve and left in the downstairs freezer. “Let it go, boys. No one needs a pissing contest now. What matters is that Maeve and Daisy are safe here. I’m confident that no one will be able to get past the likes of you.” She turned and left the room, allowing the men to speak freely once she was gone.

“Tell me again when we can expect the post to arrive?” Finn asked reaching for a palmier.

“Generally, around one in the afternoon. I don’t know if today’s mail will be here on the normal schedule. I think express mail is delivered separately,” Conor said as he grabbed an almond biscotti and quickly dunked one end into his coffee mug before taking a bite. “I’m going to miss Maeve’s baking when she goes. She’s got skills!”

“You should have seen her shop in Chelsea,” Finn said. “The line would snake around the block, everyone eager to meet the woman who baked the cake for the Prince and Princess. It must have taken her close to a month, day and night, to finish that masterpiece. Orange blossom frosting, raspberry filling in a buttery rum cake. Pictures were all over the internet.”

Both brothers pulled out their phones at the same time, clearly checking the internet for photos.

Conor whistled. “That’s some cake!” he said. “But you’re right. No mention of the baker.”

“Yeah, but no good deed, eh? Look at the trouble that beautiful confection brought to our door,” Finn replied. “I don’t think it was worth making that cake, no matter what they were willing to pay.”

“Agreed,” Tim said, “except for one thing. It brought Maeve and Kyle together. I think it was meant to be.”

Conor reached over and punched Tim in the arm. “Don’t get all mushy on us, brother. They’re not in the clear yet. Where the hell is the mailman?”

Maeve quietly backedout of Daisy’s room; the little girl was both fed and asleep. With one step, she bumped into an immovable object in the hallway: Kyle. He put his finger to his mouth to indicate that she should remain quiet. Then he grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway to his bedroom. Once inside, he pulled her into his embrace.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for hours,” he said as he ran his hands through her hair.

“I would love to lose myself in you right now, Kyle, but we need to talk,” she said, pulling away from him.

“There’s nothing more I want to say to you, Maeve. I don’t care what brought us together, what the circumstances were. I’m in love with you and I’m not letting you go. Where you go, I go.”

“No, Kyle. It’s not that easy. You have a job to go back to and my story is going to be big news. I don’t want to drag you into that media frenzy. It will be ugly. Things will be said about me that are untrue. It will be upsetting, and my plan is to hide until it all blows over or the next big scandal replaces it altogether. I can’t ask you to wait for as long as that takes. That’s unfair.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me, Maeve. If this is going to be bad for you, I want to be there to soften the blow. Let me protect you and Daisy through this storm. Once it all blows over, we can figure out our next steps.”

“But your job. You’ve waited all this time to go back to work. I can’t take that from you. You’ll end up resenting me for it.”

“You know what I’ve come to understand during this administrative leave of mine? It’s just a job. I can always get another one somewhere else.”

“No, Kyle. You live in Boston and so does your wonderful family. I don’t know where I’ll end up.”

“I’ve always wanted to see London,” he said softly.

“That’s the one place I’ll never go back to,” she replied. “I think I’d rather stay here, state-side. I’ll figure out how to do that after this story breaks, or rather, after it goes away.”

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