Page 52 of An Angel's Share
“Lara is a lovely name,” muses Evie as we pull out of the drive. Tommy drives us, Valentina riding shotgun. “Have you picked names yet?” she asks me, touching my tummy. “Hello, baby, just saying Hi. We love you, see you very soon. Can’t wait to hold you.”
My eyes fill with tears. What is it about these Greystones and talking to babies? Or should I say O’Clerys, in Evie’s case.
She gives me a hug, continuing to ask, “Are you going for the traditional O’Clery theme? And use grandparents’ names? I notice the family tends to use the same names. Oryou could go for middle names. I’m calling one of these after Marshall. Well, they will have that as one name anyway.”
“Do your kids have lots of middle names? What are the twins' full names?” I ask her, interested in learning as much about Evie and her family as I can.
“Lachlann Henry Greystone Barclay Russell and Sorley Marcus Greystone Barclay Russell. This little one is Riognach Lynette Patricia Greystone Russell Barclay. My kids have way better names than me. But they’ll be cursing me when they first learn to write. They’ll still be going when everyone else has gone for lunch. I’m plain old Evie Greystone, all us Greystones have no middle names. What’s yours Aoife? Is it mega long?”
“Aoife O’Clery. Very short. The first born men have been Seamus for centuries, but Dermot broke that with Patrick. He felt that Seamus as the older brother should have the chance to have another Seamus, but he only had me instead of a boy. I’m lucky I wasn’t a Dervla. If this baby is a boy, I feel I may have to call him Seamus just to revitalize the tradition. Maybe go wild with Shay for short.” I grin at her, but her face is a bit blank. She obviously doesn’t like the Seamus option.
“And for a girl?” she asks, brightening a bit.
“I Like Eva. I know it’s a bit similar to Evie, hope you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind at all. Will you go for middle names?”
“Yes, but at the minute I’m a bit devoid of ideas. I’m hoping inspiration hits me in the delivery suite.” I point at Christy. “Christy said Lara came to her there. I love the name, so I’m hoping for a similar outcome.”
“Yes, It’s a lovely name,” she says dreamily.
I look at Christy who just shrugs. Clearly Evie is one of those creative types who drifts off into a world of her own.
Dublin is a blast. We hit the hair salon first off, Evie having treatments and coaxing Christy to have a radical overhaul on her hair.
Christy goes for low lights and a sleek, sexy bob. She looks totally different, her face suddenly developing cheekbones, her neck swan-like and beautiful. We stare at her in awe.
“Well Patrick is certainly going to get a surprise,” I tell her as we sit at a table in a trendy riverside cafe. “He’ll be hanging on your every word. He definitely won’t be able to keep his eyes or hands off you.”
“Yep, he better get ready. I’m fed up with torturing him now. It’s time to step on the gas, and knock his socks off in the bedroom. I’m sick of being Christy the mum, I’m Christy the woman. I need to be that again. I feel like I’ve been lying dormant for a few years. Well, I’m ready to make a reappearance. I was never that quiet, was I?” she asks me.
I shake my head. “No, you weren’t loud, but you were seen. Everyone listened as everything you did say was relevant. You are relevant, Christy, you always have been to me. If other people have not been looking at you, more fool them.” I grab her hands and we sit, tearful, her slurping her champagne, me my fresh juice.
We all have so much in common. We talk about Dublin and the States, with Evie asking me all about New York. She said she spends more time in LA, due to the music business and her older brother living there, and regales us with gossip from the film world. She counts Kasey Becker and Carter Maywood as friends. Christy is yet again trawling the internet for pictures. Shoving their torsos in my face. I think Patrick better be afraid, and get in the gym. She’s on a serious roll.
“Well, ladies, it’s been a lovely day, but I suppose we’llhave to go to the building. We might need a place to go for dinner and more champagne after this visit,” Evie states as her phone pings.
Tommy comes over. “Evie, the boys are here. I’m just going to collect them. They can’t find the alleyway.”
“Boys?” She looks perplexed. “Xan and Kell are not here are they?”
He rolls his eyes and walks away.
Christy gets up and staggers away to the loos as two men come into the café with Tommy. They look alike. They look like Jonno, only bigger built. Both of them are rocking serious bodies.
Evie screams and jumps up, tears starting to pour from her eyes. “Jackson, oh my God. Jackson.” She’s kissing him, covering his face with kisses. He picks her up like she’s a ragdoll, holding her tight. I think I can see tears in his eyes. “What are you doing here? Not that I am not glad to see you.” She continues to hug and kiss him.
“I’ll tell you later, but Jude said he was coming over so I thought I’d surprise you all.” He utters this with full confidence, and I watch the other dark haired man, who I assume is Jude, side eye him. I don’t think he believes him.
“Don’t mind me, Evie, just go wild over Jackson. I don’t feel left out at all.” The other brother pouts at her, pulling her out of Jackson’s arms.
I hear a table of ladies next to us all sigh in unison. I’m choking on the pheromones, and tripping up on the hearts being thrown their way.
Both the brothers turn to look at me. And I mean really look. I feel a bit intimidated by the intensity they’re throwing my way.
“This is Aoife, Seamus’s girl. Jonno mentioned her to us.” She’s telling them without telling them. Clearly theGreystones share information. “Christy, Patrick’s wife, is here, just in the loo. He’s Dermot’s older boy.”
They completely know about the family drama. I can tell from the looks on their faces.
