Page 43 of Keeping 13

“The point, love, is that she had no right to treat my son the way she did. She has no God-given right to lay down the law where you’re concerned. That’s my job. She needs to take stock of the glass walls surrounding her house before casting stones at mine. Your father should’ve told her just that, but he’s too bleeding diplomatic.” Huffing out a breath, she added, “It’s the culchie in him.”

I smirked at her comment. “I think it’s the lawyer in him, Ma.”

Mam huffed again. “Well, had your father spent thirty-six hours on the flat of his back, trying to push all eight pounds twelve ounces of you out of his arse, he might feel different.”

“Jesus Christ.” I shuddered at the glorious visual of my entry into the world. “Thanks for the mental image.”

Mam smirked. “I know you think that I’m an overbearing nag, but I can’t help it. That’s what mothers do. We nag and worry and hover until we’re cold in the ground.” She leaned over and rested her cheek on my shoulder. “You’re my boy, Johnny.” She sighed heavily. “You might be towering over me now, but no matter what happens, or how far you go in life, you’ll always bemybaby.”

“You know I love ya back,” I mumbled, embarrassed and uncomfortable. “You might drive me demented most days, but I’d be lost without ya.”

“I know, love.” Mam sighed and patted my hand. “I know.”

“Ma, please don’t hate Shannon over this,” I added, my words barely more than a mumble. “I know you’re pissed with her mother, but don’t hold it against her.”

“Oh god, I don’t hate Shannon, love,” she hurried to soothe. “She’s a smashing girl and I would never judge a child based on my feelings toward their parents.” Reaching over, she pressed a hand to my back. “After all, your Nana and Granda Kavanagh never judged me and look at what I came from.”

“True.”

My mother’s side of the family werecolorfulto say the least. She’d been dragged up, literally dragged from pillar to post and passed between various relatives until, at the age of sixteen, she’d finally had enough and split from Dublin. Without a penny in her pocket and only her wits to get by, she smuggled herself onto a Bus Éireann coach with no destination in mind and landed in Cork. Hitching a ride to Ballylaggin, she arrived at my grandparents’ farm with a serious attitude problem and a willingness to earn her keep. Four years later, she was living in London, attending college, and married to my father.

“But I will say this,” Mam added, nudging my shoulder with hers. “If Marie Lynch wants to start trouble with you, she’ll have to go through me first.”

“Ma…” I shook my head and sighed heavily. “I’m defending the woman, but she’s probably just projecting.” Shrugging, I added, “They’re all going through the wringer right now.”

“I understand that, Johnny,” Mam agreed. “I do, love. I can’t comprehend how her poor children must be feeling.” Standing up, Mam smoothed her apron down before adding, “But she won’t be projecting onto you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Over my dead body.”

“I need to go back tomorrow.” I watched my mother as she pottered around my room, snatching up clothes off the floor. “To the hospital.”

Mam didn’t respond.

“Ma,” I pushed, “I need to go back.”

Mam sighed heavily. “I don’t want you going anywhere near that woman, Johnny. Not when she’s throwing around accusations about you.”

“I’m not going for her sake,” I snapped, bristling. “I’m going for Shannon… Wait.” I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, accusations? Are you talking about the fucking ball again? Because I’ve already explained that was a bleeding accident.”

Mam shook her head. “No, love.”

“Then what?” I snapped, bristling. “What’s she saying about me?”

“She said some things to your dad,” she replied. “Some things that make your father and me uncomfortable about letting you go over there.”

“Like what?”

“Look, Johnny, you need to steer clear for a while,” she finally said, not elaborating any further. “I’m not saying forever, but until the dust settles it would be best if you gave that family some space.”

The fuck did she say about me?“I haven’t done anything, Ma,” I growled, feeling defensive and on edge. “So whatever she’s saying about me, it’s complete bullshit.”

“Look, just get some sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning,” she replied, not meeting my eyes. “You still need to rest, Johnny. You’re running on empty.”

I was running on empty all right, an empty tank of patience. “Ma?” I watched my mother as she walked over to my door. “Ma, what did she say?”

“Get some sleep, love” was all she replied. She moved to close the door behind her, only to stop in her tracks. “Oh, I almost forgot—” Sliding her hand into the front pocket of her apron, she retrieved a small folded-up piece of paper. “I found this when I was washing your clothes from Dublin.” Walking back over to me, she handed me the paper. “You’re a sweet boy.” Smiling, she stroked my cheek with her hand before turning back for the door. “I’m proud of you,” Mam added before closing my bedroom door behind her.

Confused, I unfolded the piece of paper and stared down, feeling a swell of emotion hit me straight in the chest.

Shannon like the river, will you please be my friend?

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