Page 13 of A Very Bossy Christmas
“Not sure? How could you not know something like that?” She sounds genuinely hurt that I’m not actively seeking out Irish-American women who are exactly like her.
“We’ve just had a lot of other things to talk about.”Like work. And how much she hates working for me. And how much she despises me as a person.
“Well, I can’t wait to meet her. Hang on.” I can hear my dad’s deep, muffled voice in the background. “It’s Declan!” she yells out. “He’s got a new girlfriend named Maddie! He’s bringing her to the dinner. What? Turn down the TV I can’t hear you! Stop yelling at me! Ugh—that man. Driving me nuts.”
“I’ll let you go if you need to—”
“Don’t you hang up on me, Mister Bigshot. You’ll bring Maddie on Christmas Eve. And you’ll take her to Boston for the O’Sullivan gathering on the 22nd. You got the invitation.”
I deleted the invitation.
“I don’t think they invited me...”
“I saw they cc’d you, so don’t try to get out of it. You’re going. Granny and Grandad can’t come for Christmas because of his foot. He has to keep it elevated as much as possible, so they can’t travel now. Hopefully, by the wedding.”
“Uh-huh.”
“God knows I’d fly to Boston in a heartbeat, but I gotta stick around here every damn day to make sure your father doesn’t accidentally burn the house down. Someone from my family’s gotta be there, and you’re the closest. They’ll be so happy to see you with someone new.”
“It only takes ten minutes longer to fly there from Cleveland. Why can’t Aiden go?”
“Aiden’s got kids.”
“Right. And he can’t afford to get alcohol poisoning from hanging out with the Irish side for a few hours.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I can’t just fly to Boston for a cocktail party.”
“Oh yes, you can. You went for that meeting once—you think I don’t remember?”
“That was for work.”
“Uh-huh. I see how it is.Enh.It’s fine. They’ll both be dead soon anyway, so what’s the point of spending time with them? They’re just your mother’s parents. My entire side of the family will be dead soon, probably from their livers giving out, so who gives a flyin’ whatever, right?”
“Ma. I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t go to that. But I will bring her to Christmas Eve, all right? I promise.”
She sighs. “Okay.” She never really expected me to go to Boston. I know that tactic. She knows I know that tactic. “That’s my good boy. And you’ll bring her to…”
“Yeah, I’ll bring her.”
“I’ll tell them. You don’t have to—I’ll tell everyone for you.”
“Thanks, Ma. I appreciate it.”
“Anything for my sweet boy…Hang on—what?!” My mother never pulls the phone away from her mouth when she yells at my dad. Ever. “It’s in the cupboard! Not that one—the other one!Yeah it is—behind the thing! Don’t you move my things around! Tony! Tony?! That man, I swear. I just want you to marry a nice woman who’s as tolerant as I am, Dec.Christ on a cracker.I’ll call you back.”
“I actually have to call Maddie now, so…”
“Awww, you do that. I’m so excited to see you—I love you, my sweet, sweet boy.”
“Love you.”
Conversation over.
Nowwhat?
Ma always said I’d catch my death from the cold if I went outside barefoot… I could try that. I could ask one of the women I was “gallivantin’ around town” with earlier this year if they want to pretend to be named Maddie for a few nights, but I haven’t seen any of them for a couple of months, and who needsthatconversation?
