“There isn’t,” I splutter. “It’s just…you’re taking my choices away.”
“Protecting you, kid. I’m protecting you. It’s what fathers do.”
Setting my jaw, I fold my arms across my chest and stare out the window. This is unbelievable. How am I ever going to find happiness if the first person I feel a connection with is off-limits? He’s treating me like a child. And I won’t have it. He says he’s trying to protect me, but by doing so, he’s hurting me too. If I never go out with Cillian, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what could’ve been. As for my father, I get that he’s trying to protect me from getting hurt, but he should be protecting me from regret too. This isn’t fair.
Later that night when I’m alone in my room, I search up what ‘uh store’ means. Turns out it’s spelled a stór, but that’s not even the best part—A stór means ‘my treasure’. My chest swells as I hug my phone to my chest.
Cillian called me his treasure. How can I walk away from that?
Cillian
“Mam! Stop! We’re not ready for kids yet,” my brother, Patrick, says as he busts through the double doors that lead into the pub’s kitchen. Mam follows him in, her white hair twisted into a tight bun on the top of her head. Her blue eyes are blazing and the doors swing shut behind her.
“Well, I want grandchildren!” She stomps her foot on the ground and I can’t help but smile. Moira Kelly may look like a sweet old lady, but that white hair of hers was once a fiery red, and her temper matches.
“You can’t just demand grandchildren,” Trick says, grabbing a chopped carrot off the counter and biting it. “Wren is still in college and the tattoo shop is the busiest it’s ever been. Kids aren’t on our radar right now.” Trick is the next youngest after me. A tattoo artist by trade, he’s responsible for all the ink in the family and runs his own business, Sin and Ink. He did my sleeve, and he did the sleeve on our youngest brother, Sean, too. Branagan, the oldest, is the only one yet to take the plunge with the needle. So Trick, Sean and I are always on his back to at least get the Kelly Coat of Arms tattooed on him. We’ll wear him down, eventually. But for now, we get to give him shit about it.
“Four boys of my own,” Mam continues. “And how many wee babies do I have to coddle? Zero. That’s how many. At this rate, I’ll be dead and buried before the first one is even born.”
“Mam!” Patrick rolls his eyes then glares at me. “Will you help me out here?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m staying out of it.”
“Oh, of course he’s staying out of it,” Mam says. “He hasn’t brought a girl home in how long?” I smile and focus on the prep work I’m doing. I’m not getting into this. “You’re married to your job, you are. No time for your real family.”
“What does it look like I’m doing right now?” I ask, meeting her eyes while I mix the ground beef and spices together for Da to cook up later tonight.
“It looks like your workin’ instead of getting out there and finding some young lass to give me the babies I crave. How am I gonna be a grandmammy if you boys don’t get out of the kitchen and under some skirts?” She throws her hands up and storms out of the kitchen.
Trick and I look at each other and burst out laughing. “What the fuck did I just listen to?” He shakes his head like he’s trying to make sense of the situation. “She’s lost her mind.”
“Ah, she’s just eager to see us all settled. You know she wanted more kids than she had.” As the story goes, Sean’s pregnancy was difficult and once he was born, she couldn’t have anymore. Broke her heart to never have a daughter, but now that Trick’s girl, Wren, has joined the family, she feels somewhat fulfilled. But now her focus has shifted to grandkids…
“Doesn’t mean she needs to harass me every time I walk through the door. When are you gonna find yourself a skirt to get under and help me out here?” he asks, making me laugh all over again. Some of the things that come out of our mother’s mouth astound me. She has no filter.
“I asked a girl out from work last night,” I say as I head to the sink and wash my hands.
“No shit?” He grins. “What’s she like?”
I wince as I shut off the faucet and grab some paper towel. “Off limits.”
“Ouch. Why? Because George doesn’t like you guys dating each other?”
“Not just that. People see each other at work all the time, so as long as you don’t advertize the fact, he rarely finds out about it.”
“He fires people for breaking that rule though, right?”
I nod. “The few times he’s found out, yeah. Which is why I’ve never even contemplated dating one of the waitresses before now. But then this girl walks in, and she’s all bubbly and happy, and there was just something about her that made me think fuck it, I’m asking her out.”
“And what made you change your mind?”
I drop the paper towel in the trash as I rake my teeth across my bottom lip, releasing a heavy sigh. “Because it’s his daughter. Even if we wanted to see each other, we couldn’t hide it. He’d find out then that’s me out of a job. The risk is too high.”
“Fuck,” he says, lengthening the word. “That sucks, man.”
“You’re telling me.” I fold my arms across my middle and lean against the counter opposite him. “She’s the first girl I’ve had any interest in for… shit… I can’t even remember the last time I went on a date. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now because it isn’t happening.”
“Well, I guess it’s better to find out before the damage is done,” Trick says, clapping me on the shoulder as he stands up. “I’ve gotta get going. Wren’s got plans to paint a fucking feature wall or something, so we’ve got to go to the hardware store. But I’ll see you at Sunday dinner tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I say, watching him as he heads out through the back, obviously trying to avoid Mam and her baby-making rants again.
I wipe a hand over my face and smile to myself. Trick couldn’t think of anything worse than having kids right now. Me? I couldn’t think of anything better. After I got home from the restaurant last night, all I could do was sit there and think about how badly I wished I could claim Hazel as mine. I’d put a baby inside her so fast, there’d be no doubt who she belonged to. The feeling was primal, the need for her desperate, crazy even. Still, it was there. And I fucking hate it because I’m never gonna have it. I’m never gonna have her.
It was a nice dream while it lasted.
Hazel
When I arrive at work for the Sunday lunch service, there’s an extra bounce in my step. Cilian and I didn’t get to hash out all the details of our date on Monday night, but since he’s supposed to be on shift today as well, it means I get to see him and we can finish what we started before my father rudely interrupted. I’m trying to stay positive. Because along with that bounce in my step, there’s also a nervous fear bubbling about in the bottom of my stomach where Cillian isn’t planning on going through with our dating plan now that he knows who I am. Or, more specifically, whose daughter I am.