“Sean, are you cold?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
Shivering, my youngest brother nodded.
“He stinks,” Tadhg noted with a huff. “He’s pissed himself again.”
“And he smells like Daddy,” Ollie added, scrunching his nose up. “It’s not a good smell, Shan.”
“Come up here to me, Sean,” I coaxed, holding my hands out to him. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“Hang on,” Tadhg grumbled when Sean tried to get up with his seat belt still on. “I have to free you first, silly goose.”
“Shite,” Sean whispered, waiting for Tadhg to free him.
“That’s right,” Tadhg snickered, unbuckling his belt.
“Don’t encourage him to use bad language,” I warned my brothers as I helped Sean through the seats and cuddled him to my chest. “He’s only three.”
Ollie and Tadhg shrugged in response before busying themselves with opening every compartment and pressing every button they could find in the back of Johnny’s car.
“O-ee,” Sean croaked out, shivering violently, as he wrapped his small arms around my neck. “O-ee gone.”
“No,” I whispered, gently rocking him in my arms. “He’ll be back.”
My heart was hammering wildly in my chest, my fingertips numb and tingling as I forced myself to remain calm. I was embarrassed, terrified, and ashamed. Ridiculous as it sounded, I hadn’t wanted Johnny to see this part of my life, but he was seeing it all now: the ugly reality that was my family. My reasons for why I was the way I was. All of my issues… They all began and ended with that man I called my father.
I kept my eyes on the Kavanaghs, knowing the exact moment Johnny explained what had happened tonight because Mrs. Kavanagh covered her mouth with her hands and buried her face in her husband’s chest. His father’s gaze flickered to the car and I could see the concern in his eyes. They spoke for several more minutes in hushed voices, while I sat, still as a statue, feeling like I was on trial, before Johnny jogged back toward us. His mother moved to follow him, but Mr. Kavanagh walked her back into the house. Rounding the car, Johnny opened my door and smiled down at me. “Come on, Shan. Let’s go inside.”
Oh, thank god.
I blew out a ragged breath. “Are they sure?”
He nodded and reached for Sean. “Come on, big man.” Lifting my baby brother into his arms, Johnny held a hand out for me. “Let’s get you all warmed up.” Glancing to Ollie and Tadhg, he said, “Come on, lads, my ma’s getting the ice cream out for ye.”
“Score!” Tadhg cheered as he shoved his door open and barreled out of the car, running into the house ahead of Ollie who was calling out, “Wait for me, Tadhg,” as he chased after him.
Trembling from head to toe, I climbed out of the car, feeling cold to the bone, and looked up at my boyfriend. “Thank you,” I croaked out, teeth chattering, as my heart thudded a rhythm of adoration for the boy standing in front of me. “For everything.”
“I’d do anything for you, Shannonlike the river,” Johnny replied gruffly, pulling me in to his side. “Anything.”
I believed him, but I wished he didn’t have to.
66
The Sharp Knife of Awareness
Johnny
I was surprised at how I could remain so calm when I was having a nervous breakdown on the inside. When I told my parents what had happened, Dad instructed me to act normal with Shannon and her brothers while he went inside with Mam to call the Gardaí. The realization of what I’d done was hitting me hard, and the smell of alcohol wafting off the tiny child in my arms was bringing with it terrible fucking thoughts. I knew I had to go back for their mother. I promised them I would. Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to go back to that house right now, but for once in my life I was trying to do what my father had asked by keeping my head and letting the Gardaí deal with it.
With Sean in one arm and Shannon tucked under the other, I led them into the sitting room, where Dad was relighting the fire. It humbled me to see how incredibly resilient these kids were. They’d just been through something that would rattle a grown man—myself included—and yet here they were, just accepting the hand they’d been dealt, bouncing back up and getting on with it. Just like I’d seen their sister do on countless occasions. Jesus, they were the ultimate survivors.
“Whoa.” Ollie, who had run down from the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream in hand, gasped and skidded to a halt in the middle of the sitting room. “That’s like a cinema.” He pointed to the flat screen TV mounted to the wall over the fireplace and nudged his brother. “Look at the size of it.”
“I have eyes,” Tadhg shot back, too interested in the bowl of ice cream he was scarfing down. “And what do you expect? They’re loaded.”
“Are we allowed to say that?” Ollie asked, looking up at his brother. “Call them rich?”
Tadhg shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it?”