Page 88 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
I square my shoulders as footsteps approach the porch.
It’s time for my past to collide with my present.
twenty-five
Padraig
The Same Night
I’mstuffed.
The kind of chockablock only a McGloughlin Sunday dinner can deliver.
Roast beef so tender it fell apart with a look. Ma’s famous colcannon thick with butter and cabbage. Brown bread warm from the oven.
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Ma herd Cillian and Seamus toward the front door like a general mobilizing troops. “Right, come on, we’re heading next door.”
“Next door” isn’t part of the usual Sunday routine and had I known about it before inviting Mara to meet my family, I might have rescheduled. We can’t get out of celebrating Lucinda Hayes’ birthday, even if the idea of stepping into Stevie’s house again makes every muscle seize.
On our way over, Mara slides her hand into mine. She beams, cheeks flushed, polished as ever. I swear, the woman always looks like she’s stepped off camera, which, I suppose, she has.
She’s twenty-four. A broadcast anchor in LA with a solid social following and a real talent for making strangers feel like old friends. I met her on Raya six months ago. She thought it was a joke when she matched with me. Called me “the drummer with the poetry eyes.” Told me she’d always wanted to date a rockstar.
I don’t think she said it to make me feel important. She actually likes the idea of who I am and what I do for a living. I enjoy how easy it is to be with her. We’ve had a solid block of time to get to know each other, with Liam in Dublin with Linus.
Being out with Mara is electric. She slips her arm through mine like she owns the night. Loves the way people stare. Loves it even more when I lean down and remind her no one else gets this version of me.
When we get separated, she makes me wait. When I spot her across the room, she’ll blow me a kiss like she knows exactly how hard I am under these jeans.
She’s pure trouble. Conversation is top-notch. She’s kind. Funny. Self-depreciating.
The sex is fantastic too.
So, yeah. I dig her. She’s the first woman who’s held my attention since…
Ugh. She knows about Stevie, but hasn’t asked much. And, I haven’t offered, to be fair.
Which means she has no idea how nervous I am about this birthday shindig.
“Does your family do this kind of thing every Sunday?” Mara adjusts her grip on my hand as we move down the walk.
“Family dinner, yeah. Cake with the neighbors? Not usually.” I try to modulate my voice to something resembling normal.
“Oh.” She smiles up at me. “Well, it’ll be fun.”
“Sure.”
Seamus, who’s now in medical school, helps Da down the steps with practiced ease. Cillian’s behind them, carrying on a quiet conversation with Ma. They all look relaxed and content, like the tension coiling through the McGloughlin family has finally eased.
Cillian runs McGloughlin Construction on his own now, but Da’s back working nearly full time. Mostly desk work as he continues to recover from his injuries. It’s nice to see Ma relaxed. I guess she’s not waiting for something to explode anymore.
It dawns on me. The dynamic is almost peaceful.
Glancing across the grass, past the flowerbeds separating our house from the Hayes’, I catch a glimpse of movement inside.
Despite my blooming romance with Mara, deep down the situation with Stevie is an open wound. My stomach roils with nerves. Cake at the Hayes’ used to be something I looked forward to because I’d get to hang out with Stevie.
Now I’m not sure how to act.
