Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Finn presents me to Cormac, a glaring terror of a man, and Declan, the boss of the family. Seamus is last and he seems the most agreeable of the group. He pulls me into a hug. “Welcome to the family,” he says happily. “I was starting to think Finn was going to break the Whelan arranged marriage tradition.”
“Lucky me, here we are.” Finn glares at Seamus.
Next, I meet Bianca, Cormac’s wife. She’s in the kitchen with two little girls, Nora and Brianna, while Finn’s mother, Siobhan, works on dinner. “She won’t let me help,” Bianca says, nudging me lightly with her elbow. “But she’ll get tired and realize she’s only got two hands sooner or later.”
“I can hear you,” Siobhan says, brandishing a spoon. “And you need to focus on those kids.”
“It’s really nice to formally meet you, Mrs. Whelan.” I shake her hand lightly. She gives me a warm smile. Her hair’s a light auburn mixed with gray. There are smile lines around her mouth and eyes. She’s got a warm and comforting presence, totally at odds with my own mother. I feel awkward and very out of place, but Siobhan immediately starts talking to me like I’ve been a part of the family forever.
To his credit, Finn doesn’t abandon me. He pours everyone a drink and sticks by my side. I sip a crisp white and chat about growing up in the city with Finn’s mother and Bianca. Other people come and go, completely comfortable with each other. I get the sense they have dinner like this all the time.
“Has he driven you insane yet?” Bianca asks happily, bouncing little Brianna on her knee. “I mean, you’ve been married to Finn for what, two weeks now?”
“Not even, and yes, pretty much.”
“I’m shocked you lasted this long.”
“Well, I’d run, but—” I give him a sly smile. “I’m not exactly allowed to.”
Bianca grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. That was stupid of me. You’d think I’d know better, since I went through it too.”
“They all did,” Siobhan says, tasting a pink sauce with a spoon. She adds more salt. “What you’re doing isn’t unique, at least not in this family.”
“She’s fine,” Finn grumbles, looking unhappy for the first time ever. “Do we have to talk about this?”
“What, and pretend like your marriage isn’t an arranged sham?” Bianca laughs and grins at me. “We might as well be honest for once.”
It’s honestly refreshing. I can’t help but laugh at the annoyed glower on Finn’s face, and soon I’m sitting at the table with the other women while the men lurk nearby talking about whatever it is they talk about. I listen to stories about early motherhood, both the good and the bad, and soon Siobhan serves dinner.
I’m next to Finn and Casey. She talks my ear off the whole time, somehow splitting her attention between me and the kids sitting at the end of the table. She effortlessly corrals them into eating, which is both messy and hilarious. I find myself relaxing more than I thought I would. There’s laughter, jokes, some mild bickering between the boys, but all in all, it’s the most normal family meal I’ve ever been to.
Afterward, the group breaks up, some to deal with babies, others to discuss business in Declan’s office. I find myself in the kitchen helping Siobhan clean up.
“It’s always like this,” she says with an exaggerated sigh. “I cook, they eat, I clean it all up.”
“Seems wrong. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger afterward.”
“Oh, no, dear, I love it, don’t you listen to me. This makes me feel important.”
“You seem pretty important to me.”
“Once upon a time, but not so much these days.” She shuffles around the kitchen, going slowly. “Would you mind if I asked you about Finn?”
I look down at my hands as I keep rinsing plates and placing them into the washer. “I don’t know what I could tell you. I mean, he’s your son.”
“How have things been with him?”
It’s an innocent enough question, but I sense a strange undercurrent of anxiety. I look over and she’s watching my face carefully like she’s studying my reaction.
“It’s been fine. Not perfect, but not bad, either.”
She nods slowly. “And he hasn’t been… difficult at all?”
My heart rate quickens. I get the feeling she’s trying to ask something without asking it. My mouth goes dry.
“No, not at all.”
“You’re sure about that?” She moves closer. “I know he’s my son, but you’re a part of this family now, too. I take care of my own. If there’s a problem—”
“It’s not like that.”
She relaxes slightly. “Would you admit if it were?”
“I don’t know,” I say, loading another dish. I wipe my hands on a towel. “But it’s not.”
“He didn’t want to marry you. Worse than the others, but he’s much better at hiding it. He has a complicated relationship with your family.”