Page 78 of Since We're Here
Jaysus, am I confused.
The girls arrive at my cottage shortly after I do. Saoirse has a date with Ian tonight as his kids are with their mother. But when she asks me how things are with Maddie, I can’t stop the scowl from my face.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“Why do you assume I did something?” I run my hand over my face, standing on the front steps with my sister, propping the door open with my body. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Tell me.” She glares at me.
“I mean, I guess I kind of did something.”
“What happened?” Saoirse crosses her arms and taps her foot on the concrete step.
“I was an arse to her.” And that’s all the explanation Saoirse needs.
“Don’t screw this up, Pat. Maddie’s good for you.”
“How is she good for me?” I genuinely want to know. “And why do you even care?”
“I dunno. You’ve actually, like, smiled over the past few weeks? Had some fun? Been happy for the first time in years? With a decent woman who is funny and sweet and kind?”
I groan and swallow the lump in my throat.
“Yeah, well, that might all be true, but she’s temporary. It doesn’t matter if she’s funny and sweet and kind and beautiful.” My voice cracks on the last word.
“So you think she’s beautiful?” A sly smile comes over Saoirse’s face.
“Christ, Saoirse.”
“Uncle Patrick has a girlfriend!” Erin sings from the kitchen, where I look back to see her swiping chocolate biscuits from a jar I fill just for my nieces.
“You’re all insufferable.”
“That’s a big word for a man who’s screwing things up with the woman he’s dating.”
“Am I dating her?”
“Bye, girls!” Erin and Niamh rush at their mother for quick hugs and dash back inside. I follow my sister a few steps away from the door, shoving my hands in my jeans pockets.
Saoirse pauses next to her car.
“You’re doingsomethingwith her. And it’s not just physical. Figure it out.”
After Erin grabs another cookie and Niamh snags two, we head to the backyard. Niamh throws her arms around Kitty’s head. The sheep was waiting by the back door and pushes her head against my niece, searching her sides for a hidden treat. I hand Niamh one of the bowls of oats.
“Where’s Turtle?” Erin asks, peering out to the barn.
“Hiding. He’ll come out eventually, probably to play soccer with us.” I juggle the ball from one foot to the other, the girls cheering me on as I balance Turtle’s oats in one hand.
“Let me try, Uncle Pat! I’ve gotten better.” Erin grabs the ball and attempts to juggle, getting four touches before the ball flies off toward Niamh.
“Nice work, Erin! I can tell you’ve been practicing.” My niece’s cheeks turn pink with the compliment.
Niamh tries. She only gets one and growls in frustration.
“It’s a tough skill, juggling. You have to practice every day.” I place the oats onto the grass and grab two more balls, tossing one to Erin so we can all practice at the same time. “Try to get it on the top of your foot or the inside. Not your toes. You’ll have more control that way.”
I show them how to gently tap the soccer ball up, one foot after another, kicking it just a few inches off the tops of my feet.
