Page 259 of Keeping 13

“I’m taking them,” Mam confirmed with a determined gleam in her eye. “All of them.”

“Jesus,” Dad muttered, running a hand through his hair in clear exasperation. “I don’t know how I’ve survived living in a house with two bulldozers.”

“Great food and even greater sex, that’s how,” Mam shot back, not missing a beat.

Dad smirked. “That’s true.”

“Hold the fuck up,” I choked out. “Someone please explain to me what the hell is happening here.”

“Language,” Mam scolded.

“If you knew the half of what was going on my head right now, you wouldn’t be giving out to me for saying the word ‘fuck,’” I growled. “Someone start talking.”

“Do you remember when we lived in Dublin?” Dad began. “The little girl who lived with us for eighteen months?”

I gaped at him. “No. What little girl?”

“He was only a toddler, John,” Mam explained, sinking down on the stool next to Dad. “He wouldn’t remember Rayna.”

“Who?” I gaped at them. “Who the hell is Rayna?” I narrowed my eyes. “Did you two smoke something with Joey?”

“We fostered a child in Dublin,” Mam explained. “Her name was Rayna. She was a year older than you, and you were mad about her.”

“I find that hard to believe considering I have no fucking clue who you’re talking about,” I muttered under my breath.

“If you start listening to me instead of to your own voice, then maybe you’ll start understanding,” Mam snapped.

Huffing out a breath, I gestured for her to carry on.

“We had Rayna from the age of two until just before her fourth birthday,” Dad jumped in and said. “We classed her as your sister,” he added. “There was no difference—not to us.”

“What happened to her?”

“She was returned to her birth parents,” my father replied and Mam sniffled. “It was very hard for your mother,” he added, wrapping an arm around Mam. “So, we made the decision not to foster any more children. It was too hard for us—handing Rayna back after spending so much time with her.”

“We considered her our daughter,” Mam whispered. “Just the same as we consider you our son.”

“Just the same as youconsiderme your son?”What the hell?I scratched the back of my head, trying to take this all in. “Are you trying to tell me that I’m adopted?”

Dad threw his head back and laughed. “No, Johnny, you’re one hundred percent the fruit of my loins.”

“And my eggs,” Mam offered with a smirk.

“You just cost a small fortune to cook up in a lab,” he added, still laughing to himself.

“Worth every penny.” Mam winked. “Our little test-tube baby.”

What the…“That’s a fucking horrendous thing to tell me,” I choked out, outraged. “You make it sound like they cooked me up in a microwave and sold me down a backstreet alley!” They both laughed like my humble embryo beginnings was a big joke to them. “You know what?” I huffed out a breath. “I reckon Iwasadopted.”

“The point we’re trying to make, Johnny,” Dad said, struggling to sober his features as he smothered his laugh, “is that we have experience working with the foster care system.”

“And we want to foster Shannon and her brothers,” Mam came right out and told me. “We’ve been approved.” Grabbing an envelope off the counter, she thrust it at me. “It just came through this morning.”

“Tact, baby,” Dad groaned, dropping his head in his hand. “In sensitive situations, you need to use a little more tact.”

“You want to foster Shannon?” I asked, quite frankly stunned.

“Yes,” Mam replied, not missing a beat. “And Ollie, Sean, Tadhg, and Joey.”

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