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“I know.” Tossing her schoolbag on the floor, she spun around in circles on her way to the fridge. “Anyway, Mark’s a first year like me, and his dad is going out with Sadhbh Gibson. You remember Sadhbh, don’t you? I babysit Gibs and Beth all the time.”
“Yes, Caoimhe, I remember Sadhbh.” Mam rolled her eyes. “I drive you to and from her house every weekend, dear.”
“Well, Mark and his dad live in Clonamore, but they’re going to be moving into town once Joe and Sadhbh iron everything out. Can you believe it? He’s going to be living with the kids I babysit! It’s like fate has intervened on my behalf because he is seriously fine.”
“Caoimhe,” Mam scolded at the same time I asked, “What doesfinemean?”
“It means beautiful,” my sister explained with a dreamy sigh. “He’s tall and has black hair, and he plays rugby and has the best curly mullet.”
I frowned. “What’s a mullet?”
“It’s a haircut,” Mam filled in, pulling out her ironing board.
“Yeah.” Caoimhe agreed, handing our mother her shirt from the basket of ironing. “Like Slater fromSaved by the Bell.”
I knew all aboutSaved by the Bell. It was my sister’s favorite TV show. We watched it every day after school. “I like Zach.”
“Zach’s cute,” she said, agreeing with a thoughtful nod. “But Slater’s sexy.” She covered her chest with her hand and swooned. “And so is Mark!”
“Caoimhe!” Mam scolded again. “Honestly, love, little ears are listening.”
“Sorry, sorry, but I can’t help it,” my sister gushed, smiling bigger than I’d ever seen. “He’s just so tall, Mam. Like almost six feet.”
“Yes, pet, you already said.”
“And he has gorgeous black hair and green eyes, and he plays rugby.”
“You’ve said that, too, Caoimhe.”
“I know, but it bears mentioning again.” Caoimhe clutched her chest and sighed dreamily. “He’s so handsome, Mam, like you wouldn’t believe—and he asked me out. Me, Mam. Out of all the girls at school, he picked me.” Grinning from ear to ear, she wiggled her hips and squealed. “I think I might love him.”
“Oh, Caoimhe,” Mam scolded with a laugh, as she pressed the shirt she was ironing. “You’ve known the boy a month.”
“The heart wants what it wants, Mam,” my sister replied, clutching her chest again. “And my heart wants Mark Allen.” Sheshuffled around then, doing a funny dance in the kitchen. “I have never been more excited to get to school.”
“Well, if he’s that special to you, invite him over for dinner this evening.”
“Really?” Caoimhe’s eyes widened. “You really mean that?”
Mam smiled. “Why not?”
“Oh my God, I love you!” she squealed, throwing her arms around our mother. “You’re the best mam in Ireland.” She peppered Mam’s cheek with kisses. “You guys are going to love him, I promise!”
SEPTEMBER 19, 1993
Lizzie
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOUR SISTER?” MARK ASKED AFTER DINNER WHENIWALKEDinto the kitchen and saw them kissing.
“Selective mutism,” Caoimhe replied, filling a glass of water from the tap. “Don’t take it personal. She’s like this with everyone except family.” She took a sip before adding, “That’s why she goes to school in the city and does all that therapy I was telling you about.” She shrugged. “She can talk perfectly fine when it suits her.”
“Why, though?” He looked at me and then my sister before asking, “Why doesn’t she speak like a normal kid?”
“The psychiatrists said it’s because of past trauma.”
“What kind of past trauma?”
“It’s not… I’m, uh, it’s a private family matter,” Caoimhe replied, cheeks turning red. “But at the rate she’s going, she’ll be thirty before she graduates.” She took another sip before adding, “All you need to know is Liz won’t rat us out to my folks.”
