“Fucker,” he growled, wrestling me to the ground. “You broke my nose.”
“You broke my nuts,” I shot back, unable to stop myself from laughing at the outraged expression etched on his face as he attempted to pummel me into the grass. “You got big, kid.”
“Yeah, and you got skinny,” he countered, twisting and rolling around in the grass with me. “And I hope I did break your nuts.”
“Me too,” I agreed, rolling onto my back and letting him pin me. “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?”
“Fourteen,” he hissed, pulling on my hair. “And a half.”
“What the fuck is this?” I laughed, bucking him off my lap. “Who taught you to pull hair? Shannon?”
“Actually, it was your girlfriend,” he countered. “When she was screaming my name.”
I narrowed my eyes in warning. “Tadhg.”
“Yes, Tadhg, yes!” he mocked.
“I’m warning ya.”
“Oh, Tadhg, you’re so much better than Joey.”
“You little shit.”
“You deserved it,” he chuckled, flopping onto his back beside me. “Asshole.”
“Yeah,” I panted. “I think we’ve already established I’m an asshole.”
“So, you’re back.”
“I’m back.”
He nudged my shoulder with his. “About fucking time.”
“I know, kid.” I nudged him back. “I missed you, too.”
"Hey, Johnny?" Ollie asked, strolling into the living room later that evening. "Are you going to marry my sister?"
"Wait for it," Gibsie snickered, nudging my shoulder as he tapped away on his PlayStation controller in front of a giant TV in the living room. "He's going to start getting stroke symptoms."
Smirking, I paused our game with my controller and turned my attention to the terrified looking rugby player. "Good question, Ols."
Right on cue, Kav's breathing increased, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple.
"Ollie!" Shannon squealed, turning the color of her crimson sundress. "You can't ask him that."
"But he bought balloons to play with you," Ollie offered innocently. "And Joe says you only use those special balloons with girls when you want to marry them."
“I did say that,” I laughed, remembering back to a time when that awkward fucking conversation came up. In my defense, Ollie was eight at the time, and he’d caught me off guard.
"A lot he'd know about using balloons," Johnny muttered, looking rattled, as he pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Bareback bollocky-Bill.”
"Balloons?" Shannon asked, tone laced with confusion, as she snuggled up on Kav’s lap. “What are you —“
"Yeah, baby." He gave her a meaningful look that said go with it. "Balloons."
“Oh.” Shannon's eyes widened as awareness dawned on her. "Balloons."
"Balloons." Gibsie choked out a laugh. "Ah, lad. I love this kid."
"Hold on." Frowning, Ollie turned to look at me. "Do you and Aoife play with balloons together?"
"Not nearly enough," Gibsie snickered.
"Ha-fucking-ha, lad." I rolled my eyes. "You're hilarious."
Ollie frowned in confusion. "Huh?"
"Joey burst his balloon," Johnny explained to number five.
"And now he can’t play anymore games with Aoife because of his dodgy balloons," Gibsie laughed, thoroughly fucking enjoying himself at my expense.
"Oh no," Ollie said with a sad sigh. "Was it the needles? Does she not want to play with you anymore now?”
“Huh?”
"Did you burst her balloon with your needles?” His brown eyes were full of compassion. “Did you make her sad?”
Everyone fell quiet, the laughing stopped, and I felt another piece of me die inside.
"Yeah, Ols," I forced the words out. "I made her sad with my needles."
“Huh.” Seeming mollified with that answer, Ollie skipped out of the living room, leaving behind a bad taste in my mouth.
“Well, that sure as hell went south fast,” Gibsie declared, tossing his controller down and climbing to his feet. “Now, I feel like comfort eating.”
“Stay out of the biscuit tin, Gibs,” Johnny argued from his perch on the couch with my sister. “You’re in training, lad, remember?”
“Yeah, well, you tell my emotions that, Johnny, because I’m feeling raw, lad. Raw, I tell you,” he replied, swiping his car keys off the coffee table. “I’m going on a food run into town.”
“There’s plenty to eat in the kitchen.”
“Grease, Cap,” he snapped, moving for the door. “I need grease, lad. Not another boiled chicken fucking fillet.”
“You disgust me.”
“Not nearly as much as this healthy eating plan you’ve got me following disgusts me,” he huffed before wagging his brows and grinning. “Now, who’s up for a burger from the chipper?”
Kav said no and the same time Shannon said yes, and I swear I’d never seen a lad do a one-eighty faster. “You want something from the chipper, Shan?”
“Uh, maybe?” she replied. “If that’s okay?”
“Anything,” he replied gruffly. “You can anything you want, baby.”
Beaming up at him, my sister reeled off her food order, while Kav hung on her every word.
“Anything, Shannon like the river,” Gibsie parroted in mocking tone, clutching his chest. “You can have anything, baby.”
“Gibs,” Kav warned, climbing to his feet and pocketing his wallet. “Give it a bleeding rest, will ya?”
“You can have my battered sausage,” Gibs continued to gush mockingly. “Like I said: anything for you, baby.”
“I’ll take a spin into town if it’s going,” I interrupted, deciding that it would be mentally less scarring to ignore the battered sausage jibe. “See if Aoife’s back.”
MATHS IS NOT MY STRONG POINT, MAM!
AOIFE
“Where’s Dad? Has he come back yet?”
“No, I presume he’s still at the garage, love. I haven’t seen him since we got home from town. How are you feeling, Aoife love?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mam,” I called out from our bathroom later that night, as I stood under the steady spray of water pouring down on me. “Like I want to throttle Dad for getting rid of the bath.”
“How are the pains?” Mam asked from the bathroom doorway. “Are they coming regular yet?”
“No, they’re not coming regular,” I snapped, having had quite enough of this whole damn ordeal. “Nothing about my life is regular, so why would my contractions be any different.”
“Well, you heard what the midwife said on the phone,” she parroted. “As soon as they start coming every five minutes, and last for a full minute consistently for over an hour, then we need to head to the hospital.”
“Maths is not my strong point, Mam,” I snapped, scrubbing myself down with a loofah, while I mentally warned my little intruder to stay the hell put for another night. “You do realize you’re talking to the girl who failed leaving cert maths, don’t ya?”