Page 124 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
“Me too.” I linger a second longer. “I can’t wait to be with you.”
Her eyes warm. “Neither can I.”
She hangs up and I can’t help but cheese a little.
Marvel how, despite all these years, our flame was never gone.
Only waiting for the right moment to burn again.
thirty-six
Stevie
Two Weeks Later
Maureen’sdoorswingswidebefore I can knock.
Ham and cloves roll out in a warm wave, honey and heat curling into the hall.
Voices I could recognize from three blocks away tumble over each other from deep in the McGloughlin house. Cillian’s quickrhythm, Brennan’s dry darts. Seamus steady and quiet. Liam low at the edges, Connor’s laugh thudding under it all.
A baby squeals. Jude drops my hand and sprints toward the sound.
“Shoes,” I yell after him.
He skids to a halt, kicks them into a corner heap, and bolts anyway, clutching the tiny gift bag with the lamb toy and board book Isla picked out. My mischievous, imaginative son has a knack for turning ordinary situations into epic adventures.
Isla hovers at my elbow, Lila at the other. Isla, at eleven, wears her wavy, honey-brown hair at shoulder length and always has a thoughtful, observant expression making her seem older than her years. Lila is seven, her slightly darker hair is in a ponytail. She sparkles with curiosity and mischief at all times.
I glance around the bustling living room, nerves fluttering under the swell of anticipation. Two weeks ago Padraig and I found our way back to each other. Every adult in both families knows. We’re all quietly united in the plan to ease the kids into getting to know everyone before the shape of our worlds shifts for good.
Padraig enters from the hall with Rafferty on his shoulder, diaper bag slung cross-body, hair scraped into a low knot. He spots us, his smile slides across his face slowly. Seeing him makes the room seem softer at the edges for a minute, then snaps back into motion when Jude darts past yelling, “Mom, there’s babies!” at a volume reserved for stadiums.
My mom emerges from the kitchen with three large bakery boxes balanced like trophies. “Pecan and cherry, and a tray of brownies,” she announces, kisses my cheek, then sets them up on the side table.
Behind her, Joni breezes in with a bouquet of sunflowers and a grin bright enough to fight Seattle’s gray skies for a month.
Rory and my dad follow with a stack of plates and a box of silverware. Padraig’s da looks good. Sober eyes, steadier posture than last winter, and gait slow but sure. Dad hugs me and the two of them go off to accomplish their task of setting the table.
“Chaos. Pure chaos.” Padraig smiles down at me.
Isla’s gaze tracks Rafferty who’s tiny fist is stuffed inside his father’s collar, eyes alert. When he peeks over, my eldest daughter’s expression rearranges itself into wonder and careful courage. “He’s a lot smaller than the twins.”
“Yeah, he was born a little early.” Padraig crouches slightly to address her question. “He’s catching up.”
She nods, then edges closer. “Can I maybe hold him later? If he’s in the mood?”
“Absolutely, let’s make it happen.” Padraig flicks his eyes to mine.
Mara tentatively walks over, polished even in a sweatshirt. She’s stunning, with her hair in a low ponytail and makeup-free. When she catches my gaze, she gives me a small nod, and the mother in me immediately recognizes hours of post-partum nights, hard choices, private regrets, and edges smoothed by therapy and stubborn love. Respect rises in my chest without permission.
“Hi, Mara, you remember my daughters, Isla and Lila, from the ice cream shop.” I gently urge them both forward and they stare wide-eyed at the woman who they’ve seen on TV.
Lila beams. “You’re so bee-you-tiful.”
“Ah, sweetheart.” Mara caresses her hair. “Thank you, gorgeous girl.”
We’re interrupted by Maureen leading a food parade from the kitchen. She sets down the largest ham I’ve ever seen, glistening under a honeyed glaze. Liam follows with mashed potatoes, steam curling up in buttery waves. Cillian bringsroasties, Seamus the caramelized carrots and parsnips, Connor and Ronni follow with soda bread, gravy, and a giant salad.
