Page 25 of Yours To Keep
“Oh, Nate’s been a real ass tonight, winding the kids up when he knows he won’t be there for the fall,” she says, and I laugh. Her husband is a firefighter and often works the overnight shift, leaving her to put their two daughters to bed by herself. Cara, her oldest, is five while her sister, Maeve, is only three. I love my nieces to death, but I don’t envy the headache my sister lives with permanently.
Magnolia clings to my hand with both of hers, trailing behind me nervously. I’ve seen her at her most courageous, her most confident, but still she’s very reserved. When it comes to meeting new people, she tries to make herself so small and invisible. Unfortunately, that won’t work tonight.
“Sis, this is Magnolia. Angel, this is my sister, Saoirse,” I say, gesturing between the two of them.
“Aingeal? Chomh milis, deartháir,”So sweet, brother. My sister says, and I roll my eyes. Magnolia shuffles uncomfortablyby my side, not understanding anything my sister and I are saying.
“It’s great to meet you, really. Dalton never brings anyone home, so this is a first,” Saoirse says, shaking Magnolia’s hand lightly and giving her a mischievous smile. This is going to be an interesting evening, for sure. “Does she know what she’s in for?”
“I’m hoping they’re gonna cut me a break for my birthday,” I reply and she laughs loudly. I know there’s a snowflakes chance in hell that my parents will ever cut me a break, especially since this is the first time I’ve ever brought a girl home to meet my family. The front door opens and a tiny version of my sister peeks around it, looking out onto the porch.
“Uncy Dalty! Happy Birthday!” Cara shouts, wrapping herself around my legs.
“Thank you, Carebear! How’d you know what I wanted the most was a hug from my favorite girl?” I ask her, picking her up and squeezing her until she giggles.
“You always say that. Mama says you’re just kissing ass,” Cara says and Magnolia snorts out a laugh behind me.
“Cara! Language!” My sister snaps, and I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Kissing ass, huh?” I tease, and Saoirse rolls her eyes.
“I’d have to say I agree,” Magnolia chimes in and I slap my hand over my heart, faking pain.
“You wound me, angel. While I would happily kiss your perfect ass any day, I’d never lie to you,” I tell her with a wink, and she blushes furiously.
“Oh, laying it on thick I see.” Saoirse takes Cara from my arms, walking into the kitchen where I hear my mother singing to Maeve as she stirs a pot on the stove.
“Ah, the prettiest lass in the entire world,” I say, mimicking my father’s thick Irish brogue as I wrap my mom in a tight hug.
“Oh, come off it! Dalton Cian, try your act on someone who didn’t give birth to ya, why don’t ya,” she replies, leaning into me and kissing my cheek. Maeve hugs me quickly, running out the back door to chase her sister.
Magnolia stands off to the side of the kitchen just watching my family with a sad smile on her face. I wish she knew what growing up in a home like this was like. We may not have been rich, but we never lacked for love.
“And who do we have here?” My father says, coming down the hall and spotting Magnolia.
The house falls silent, only the faint sounds of the girls playing outside filtering through the back door. Magnolia shrinks in on herself a little, uncomfortable being the center of attention. When I reach my hand out to her, she threads her fingers through mine with no hesitation. I’m shocked at how right it feels.
“This is Magnolia Monroe. Magnolia, these are my parents,” I say, pulling her into my side. She gives them a warm smile, the one she usually saves just for me when she’s really happy.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, extending her hand out to my mother. After a quick once over, my mom pushes her hand to the side, pulling her in for a hug.
“It’s lovely to meet you, dear,” my mother says, looking at me over Magnolia’s shoulder. “I’d love to tell you we’ve heard a lot about you, too. But my son is very tight-lipped about who he spends his time with.”
“Aw ma, come on. You know all of my friends,” I tell her, sitting at the dining table.
“Ah, sure, ya hellion,” she says, giving me a scolding look.
“You’ve never brought a lass this fair trou our doors, son,” my father says, his thick accent making Magnolia giggle.
“Well, I’ve never met one this fair before Magnolia, Da. So they weren’t worth bringing home,” I tell them. Magnolia blushes a deep crimson color, clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her.
“Is there anything I can do to help with dinner, Mrs. Murphy?” Magnolia asks, and my dad raises an eyebrow in my direction. I know he’s already decided what he thinks of her, but he’ll wait until we’re alone to tell me.
“Please, dear, call me Fiona. Do you cook?” my mom asks, and Magnolia grimaces. The extent of her cooking consists of what takeout she can order, but I know she’ll give it her best shot. “Not to worry. I taught both my heathens how to cook. I’ll be patient with you, mo pháiste.”
My child. Hearing my mother use the term of endearment she always used for my sister and I, the one she uses for my brother-in-law and my nieces, I know she’s already accepted that Magnolia is important to me.
Magnolia takes off her jean jacket, draping it across the back of my chair before she leans down to place a sweet kiss on my cheek. It’s such a simple gesture, but definitely not something between just friends. We’ve already blurred the lines so much at this point, I’m not entirely sure what we are.
