Page 88 of Lucky Strike

“You’re a big shot now, eh boy?” Donovan strides over and pulls me from my chair, lifting me into the air. “Make me proud! Make your old man proud!”

Laughing, and a little overwhelmed, I promise that I will. He puts me down, squeezing the daylights from me. “It’s your turn to lead now, Con,” he says in my ear. “Be careful in your dealings with the other families. They love you, but they’ll try to test you, and you need to be strong.”

“I will,” I say, but he’s already gone, replaced by Will and Eileen O’Reilly.

Dad waits for the crowd to disperse before pulling me into a hug, tears shining in his eyes. He might have stepped down, but I know he'll be with me at every turn. “I’d have been proud no matter what. I’ve always been proud of you, Con. You know that.”

My throat closes. I nod, thumping his back before he releases me. “They trust me because they trust you. This is all you.”

He releases me, looking soberly into my eyes. “I have earned their trust over the years, but not one soul here would have voted for you if they didn’t think you were worthy of the call. Don’t forget that. Let their faith in you guide your decisions.”

Tristan sidles up, thrusting a shot of whiskey at me. “Congrats, Lucky.” Our eyes meet, and I’m surprised to see that there are tears in his. The last time my brother cried was when he cracked a rib during an MMA tournament. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

23.Bria

Now

Since I’m the one who’ll be taking Liam to and from school, Lucky insists that I attend Young Friends’ orientation with him.

“My mom really wanted to see it. She’s bummed out she can’t come,” he says as we park outside, Liam singing to himself in the back seat. “But she’s busy getting everything ready for their move to Cleveland.”

“They’ll be gone until December, right?”

“Yeah, it gives Dad enough time to stick around in case there are any complications.” Lucky looks at me, lowering his voice. “If the ablation isn’t successful, they might have to consider implants.”

“Why does Grandpa have to go away?” Liam pipes up from the back seat. “Why does he have to go to the doctor all the time?”

“Because he’s a little bit sick, and the doctors that can help him the best all live in Cleveland, which is in Ohio.”

“Where’s Ohio?”

“It’s a few states over,” explains Lucky, turning off the car. “To the west.”

“Where’s west?”

Turning in my seat, I look at Liam and point in a general westwarddirection. “He’s going to be okay, though. We pray for him every night, don’t we?”

Young Friends is a charming, little school on a cozy street in Beacon Hill, not far from Lucky’s house. There’s a gate and a set of locked glass doors to get through before being admitted to the front office, which is probably why Lucky chose it. This is Liam’s second year attending, so he’s familiar with the layout and most of the teachers. He chatters enthusiastically about his friends and activities as we visit his new classroom, eager to show off what he knows.

“He used to go for half-days, but I’ve switched him to full time since he’ll be in kindergarten next year,” explains Lucky.

Liam’s between us, swinging from our hands every other step, but he stops short when a little girl with long, beaded braids walks by with her mom. “Hi, Veronica!”

She waves cheerfully, grinning. “Hi, Liam!”

Liam wiggles his hand from mine so he can wave back. Veronica’s mom smiles at us as they pass, glancing between Lucky and me with a hint of the curiosity I’ve come to expect.

On Saturday,we drive over to Back Bay for Owen’s birthday celebration. I peek up at the pretty Georgian townhouse as we park, remembering the first time I visited with Maeve. We usually went to the country house in Winchester during our breaks, but one year it was being painted so we came to Boston. Lucky and I were no longer together, as he was already in college, but I’d peeked into his room just to see what it was like. Unlike the country house, this one was all him. It was full of books, pictures and trophies, and it even smelled like him. I glance at Lucky as he wrangles Liam out of the car, wondering what that room is like now.

Because Sloane loves things fancy, we’re all dressed up. Liam’s in an adorable pair of little gray slacks, a lavender dress shirt, and suspenders. He fought the lavender until he realized his dad was wearing the same thing (minus suspenders). I’m in a pink, knee-length party dress with a tulle skirt and a sweetheart neckline, something I bought to attend a wedding once.

“Bria! You look so beautiful,” Sloane gushes in greeting “You all do!” She gasps when she sees Liam, snapping a picture of him before crushing him into a hug.

The party is in full swing, lively jazz tinkling in the background as people mill about. Huge sprays of fresh flowers are everywhere, giving the Kellys’ elegant home a festive, cheery feel. We find Owen on the rooftop patio, surrounded by friends and family. Conlan Sr. and Grace, Lucky’s grandparents, flew back from their travels abroad, so I’m finally able to meet them. Grampa Con is mischievous and handsome, and Grace is elegance personified, her silky white hair pulled into a low chignon. I chat with her for a little while Lucky and Liam take a seat beside the birthday boy.

Eventually, though, my hunger wins out, so I return downstairs to check out the hors d’oeuvres. Sloane and her girlfriends, the wives of the inner circle, are all clustered around the island in the kitchen. Maya Brennan gasps when she sees me, kissing my cheeks while the other two—Danica, I think, and I forget the other—offer hugs andhow-are-you, sweetheart?

“Have a glass of wine, honey. Con can take care of his own kid,” says Sloane, sliding a glass of pink bubbly my way. “I seem to remember you and Maeve having a fondness for this one.”

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