Page 60 of Trying Sophie

But now, in the pre-dawn house, I was jumping out of my skin. To be honest, I’d been that way for the past week. But this was the first time I’d woken up feeling like a set of live wires were where my veins should be, filling my body with a steady thrum of electricity.

I groaned as I climbed out of bed and looked down at my battered body. Shit. I poked and prodded, testing the area to see if I was merely sore or if I’d need a visit to the team doctor. One area hurt worse than the rest but I didn’t think the pain was anything the doc would be able to fix. He’d just bind me up and send me on my way with advice not to overdo it for a couple of days.

Without conscious thought, I packed an overnight bag, jumped in my car, and hit the road to Ballycurra. The further away from the city I drove the more my mood improved. About five minutes outside the turnoff to my house, my left leg stopped bouncing and my grip on the steering wheel relaxed.

It was colder out here than it’d been in the city and there was a thin sheen of frost covering the walkway up to my mom’s house. Even though everything was still and quiet outside, I knew my mam would be awake at the kitchen table with a pot of tea and the newspaper.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice barely above a whisper, as I entered the house via the side entrance.

My mam gasped in happy surprise when she saw my head poking through the door. “Declan!”

She tightened the belt on her robe and pulled me into the house. Colleen O’Shaughnessy wasn’t a dainty woman so when she squeezed me tight, I grimaced from the pain in my ribs.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, looking me over with assessing eyes.

“No more than usual; just some bruises. I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Pushing her concern aside, I lowered my aching body into a chair at the kitchen table.

“What brings you home, and at this hour?”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I’d come so I just shrugged and smiled at her.

“Well, whatever it is, I’m happy to have you,” she said.

It might sound corny, but I was pleased my mom was so happy to see me. Very rarely did we spend time together that wasn’t predicated on me doing something for her. But then the happiness faded when she reminded me why I generally stayed away.

“You can hang the Christmas lights and help your sister pull down all the decorations from the attic.”

I love my mom, I love my mom, I love my mom, I chanted, trying to remember why that was.

I pointed to my side. “Hurt, remember?” Sometimes I wondered why I even bothered, oblivious as she could be at time. “Maybe next weekend, yeah?”

“What about Cian? Can you call him to come help?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m uh … not sure Cian’s available.”

I glanced at the red vintage clock ticking away above the stove. Whether he was still pissed at me or not, it was way too early to text him regardless. “Besides, he’s probably still sleeping.”

She huffed, an offended sound, and busied herself at the counter.

“What can I get you for breakfast then?” she asked with a long-suffering sigh as she pulled a packet of rashers from the fridge.

“Some bacon sounds terrific,” I said, rising.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just going to drop my things off since I’m staying the night.”

“And to what do I owe this great pleasure?” she asked.

“Can’t a boy come home to visit his mam?” I replied as I reached the stairwell up to my room.

“You can, but it’s not like you,” I heard her answer as I made my way upstairs.

And I wonder why that is Colleen, I thought uncharitably.

I loved my mom, really I did, but sometimes I wondered how she managed to function when I was gone. No doubt Aoife took the brunt of her demands. Maybe it was time to talk about getting my baby sister her own apartment.

Feeling restless, I wondered if it was too early to head over to Fitzgeralds. Colm and Maureen would be up, but I knew it would be rude to show up on their doorstep at this hour. Shit. That meant a few more hours of catching my mam up on the things I was willing to discuss and dodging questions about those I wasn’t.

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