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“Da—” I dropped my head on his shoulder, clinging to him like a child. “Get me out of here.”

* * *

Two hours later, we were sitting in the back corner of a half-empty restaurant, and my heartbeat had returned to its normal rhythm. Grateful to have my father here with me after spending so much time away from everyone I knew, I listened intently as he gave me a summary of everything that had happened back home since I’d been away.

“Sean’s really saying all those words now?” I asked between mouthfuls of steak. “Full sentences?”

“Most of the time, he’s still waffling.” Dad chuckled. “But he’s trying. He’s coming along in leaps and bounds.”

“Well, shite.” Stabbing a piece of potato, I shoveled it into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully before asking, “And she’s really going to that counselor?”

“She’s really going,” Dad confirmed. “It’s helping, Johnny. She’s healing.” I felt my shoulders sag in relief. Shannon had told me she was attending the sessions, but I didn’t know for sure if she was telling me the truth. “She’s starting to thrive, son. They all are.”

“I miss her.” Staring at the food on my plate, I continued to wolf it down, trying to distract myself from the god-awful pain in my chest. “I misshome.”

“And we miss you,” he replied. “But we’re also extremely proud of you.”

“Is she going out?” I croaked out, forcing the question out of my mouth. “Shannon? She’s not too sad?”

“She’s lonesome for you,” Dad replied honestly. “I imagine desperately so, but she’s putting on a brave face and getting on with things. She spends a lot of time with her friends. I suppose she’s getting into the swing of being a teenage girl.” Smiling, he added, “And your mother has her primped to within an inch of her life.” He chuckled. “I’ve never seen so much pink and glitter in my life, son. It’s everywhere. Makeup. Jewelry. Hair straighteners. Shoes. Dresses. I swear, every time I walk through the front door, there’s another half-dozen shopping bags clogging up the hallway.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I groaned. “She’s treating Shannon like a doll, isn’t she?”

“That’s one way to put it.” Dad laughed.

Grimacing, I took a sip from my glass of water before asking, “And how is Ma?”

“Her usual self,” Dad mused, giving me a knowing look.

“She’s in her element, isn’t she?”

“Oh, she’s loving having so many kids around to fuss over,” he agreed, smiling fondly at the thought. “She misses her baby, though. All the children in the world couldn’t fill the hole you made in her heart. Or mine.”

“I bet.” I chuckled, though it was a hollow sound. “I miss her, too.”

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” he asked then, picking up on my mood.

“They offered me a two-year contract, Da,” I whispered.

“In France?”

“No.” I shook my head. “In Dublin.”

My father blew out a shaky breath and leaned back in his chair, food forgotten. “And the money?”

“Beyond our expectations given my age and experience,” I muttered. “The kind of money I didn’t expect to earn until my twenties.”

His brows shot up. “The plan was to play for a French club for a year or two to gain experience before you signed for home,” he noted. “They must think you’re ready.”

“Yeah.” Setting my fork and knife down, I mirrored his actions and leaned back in my chair. “They must.”

“They want you.”

“They do.”

“And you?” He tilted his head to one side, studying me with intelligent eyes. “What doyouwant?”

“If I sign, I will have to move back to Dublin in September and finish out my leaving cert at Royce,” I told him. “They’re willing to work with me on my training schedule. I’d be a pupil of Royce on paper, but I guess I’d be more of an external student than anything, you know? Taking a few classes, keeping up with tutoring, and sitting my exams there.”

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