The Player and the Pixie
Page 63
“Stop avoiding the question.”
“It was ages ago,” I shrugged.
“That doesn’t make it any better,” Ronan barked and every single person in the car jumped in fright. He looked at Annie. “First you and now my sister. Is everyone blind to Cassidy’s true nature but me?”
“You’re not my keeper. I can have dinner with whoever I like,” I whispered.
He shook his head, his thoughts obviously a churning mess. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Have you no loyalty?”
His question made me feel awful, and my eyes grew watery as I folded my arms across my chest. Maybe Ronan was right. Maybe I was a horrible sister with no loyalty. And maybe it was for the best that I never told him all that had transpired, all that was still transpiring between Sean and me, because I was certain it would irrevocably change our relationship. And I needed my brother. He and Annie were the only real family I had.
Annie took Ronan’s hand in hers in an effort to calm him. “You heard her, Ronan. It was ages ago. There’s no sense getting all worked up about it. You’re being a bully.”
“I’m not . . . ” He paused and rubbed at his jaw. “I’m not a bully. I’m just angry.”
“Yes, and we’ve talked about this before. Anger is counter-productive. If you’re upset with Lucy, tell her, but don’t yell at her like she’s a misbehaving child.”
And just like that, the sweet and shy Annie had gotten through to him. His anger deflated and he cast me a guilty look.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you.”
I only nodded, my voice failing me for a moment. I sat in my seat, quiet as a mouse, with Broderick shooting me concerned looks. He was the only one who knew it wasn’t just ages ago, and that things between Sean and me were far from over.
But how could I tell my brother that after how he reacted to us having one dinner together? He’d probably disown me. Fear had me wrapping the secret up tighter than ever before, determined for him never to find out.
Ronan exhaled and gave me one final glance, before putting the car in gear. I swallowed what felt like a lump in my throat, my mind a whirl of worries. Annie muttered something in Ronan’s ear that seemed to calm him further, and I saw the tension leave his body.
Watching them together, I was struck by how grateful I was for Annie, for how happy she made my brother, and how she could ground him with nothing but a few softly spoken words. Ronan had found someone who understood him, who cherished him, who wanted him just as he was. A foreign sensation struck me and I rubbed at my chest. It took me a minute to recognize what it was—longing.
***
When we arrived at the house, I swiftly made my way to my room to do some much-needed yoga. Calm was vital to me right then. I needed to sort out my feelings before I came face-to-face with Sean, which I now knew was inevitable since he’d been invited to the wedding.
Broderick had never been to Ireland before, so I promised to give him the grand tour that afternoon. Unfortunately, my mam showed up and insisted we all go out—meaning, we all be seen—for lunch at her super swanky club. Afterward she wanted Annie and me to go lingerie shopping with her.
The horror!
I was able to beg off by claiming plans with Broderick. As such, we spent that evening and the next morning wandering about the city, checking the sights and whatnot. To his credit, he didn’t bring up Sean at all. Broderick was both wonderful and infuriating in that he never pushed me for more than I was willing to share.
Time flew by and soon it was time to head back and get ready for the evening ahead, i.e. Annie’s hen party.
A couple of the rugby WAGS (wives and girlfriends) whom Annie had befriended over the last few months were already there, alongside my mother, who was happily chatting amongst them. I’d invited a few friends, too, mostly to make sure the whole thing wouldn’t be a massive rugby fest.
When everyone had arrived, it was a little funny to see my kooky gaggle of girlfriends mixed in with the uber-stylish fashionista WAGS. Cara was a Goth lesbian with a mohawk and undercut, Hannah a hipster librarian with ironic ’80s glasses, and Veronica an ethereal hippie with hair down to her backside, who only bought her clothes from charity shops.
When I came downstairs carrying the Where’s Wally costumes, several of the WAGS immediately turned their noses up, my mother included. Not all the WAGS were intolerable, but one in particular, Orla Flanagan, wife to the fullback Gary Flanagan, couldn’t help voicing her opinion.
“Didn’t you get my email about having some figure-hugging jerseys made with our other half’s names on the back? I thought that would’ve been really cute.”
Making brief eye contact with Cara, we each exchanged cynical expressions. “I’m sorry, but tonight is a man-free zone. Besides, not all of us are lucky enough to have a rugby-playing beau in our lives,” I said, trying to keep my tone friendly.
Orla shot another of the WAGS a smug smile as she brought the champagne flute to her mouth. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
When I glanced at Annie sitting on the other side of the kitchen, she sent me a look of apology, but I shrugged it off. Being Ronan’s sister, I’d gotten used to women like these years ago. They weren’t all bad; some were rather nice, actually. But the ones who embraced the stereotype weren’t exactly my favorite people.
“Did you all bring a pair of comfortable shoes?” I asked, glancing around the room and spotting a few too many Louboutins. “You know we’re going on a Pedibus, right?”
“It was ages ago,” I shrugged.
“That doesn’t make it any better,” Ronan barked and every single person in the car jumped in fright. He looked at Annie. “First you and now my sister. Is everyone blind to Cassidy’s true nature but me?”
“You’re not my keeper. I can have dinner with whoever I like,” I whispered.
He shook his head, his thoughts obviously a churning mess. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Have you no loyalty?”
His question made me feel awful, and my eyes grew watery as I folded my arms across my chest. Maybe Ronan was right. Maybe I was a horrible sister with no loyalty. And maybe it was for the best that I never told him all that had transpired, all that was still transpiring between Sean and me, because I was certain it would irrevocably change our relationship. And I needed my brother. He and Annie were the only real family I had.
Annie took Ronan’s hand in hers in an effort to calm him. “You heard her, Ronan. It was ages ago. There’s no sense getting all worked up about it. You’re being a bully.”
“I’m not . . . ” He paused and rubbed at his jaw. “I’m not a bully. I’m just angry.”
“Yes, and we’ve talked about this before. Anger is counter-productive. If you’re upset with Lucy, tell her, but don’t yell at her like she’s a misbehaving child.”
And just like that, the sweet and shy Annie had gotten through to him. His anger deflated and he cast me a guilty look.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you.”
I only nodded, my voice failing me for a moment. I sat in my seat, quiet as a mouse, with Broderick shooting me concerned looks. He was the only one who knew it wasn’t just ages ago, and that things between Sean and me were far from over.
But how could I tell my brother that after how he reacted to us having one dinner together? He’d probably disown me. Fear had me wrapping the secret up tighter than ever before, determined for him never to find out.
Ronan exhaled and gave me one final glance, before putting the car in gear. I swallowed what felt like a lump in my throat, my mind a whirl of worries. Annie muttered something in Ronan’s ear that seemed to calm him further, and I saw the tension leave his body.
Watching them together, I was struck by how grateful I was for Annie, for how happy she made my brother, and how she could ground him with nothing but a few softly spoken words. Ronan had found someone who understood him, who cherished him, who wanted him just as he was. A foreign sensation struck me and I rubbed at my chest. It took me a minute to recognize what it was—longing.
***
When we arrived at the house, I swiftly made my way to my room to do some much-needed yoga. Calm was vital to me right then. I needed to sort out my feelings before I came face-to-face with Sean, which I now knew was inevitable since he’d been invited to the wedding.
Broderick had never been to Ireland before, so I promised to give him the grand tour that afternoon. Unfortunately, my mam showed up and insisted we all go out—meaning, we all be seen—for lunch at her super swanky club. Afterward she wanted Annie and me to go lingerie shopping with her.
The horror!
I was able to beg off by claiming plans with Broderick. As such, we spent that evening and the next morning wandering about the city, checking the sights and whatnot. To his credit, he didn’t bring up Sean at all. Broderick was both wonderful and infuriating in that he never pushed me for more than I was willing to share.
Time flew by and soon it was time to head back and get ready for the evening ahead, i.e. Annie’s hen party.
A couple of the rugby WAGS (wives and girlfriends) whom Annie had befriended over the last few months were already there, alongside my mother, who was happily chatting amongst them. I’d invited a few friends, too, mostly to make sure the whole thing wouldn’t be a massive rugby fest.
When everyone had arrived, it was a little funny to see my kooky gaggle of girlfriends mixed in with the uber-stylish fashionista WAGS. Cara was a Goth lesbian with a mohawk and undercut, Hannah a hipster librarian with ironic ’80s glasses, and Veronica an ethereal hippie with hair down to her backside, who only bought her clothes from charity shops.
When I came downstairs carrying the Where’s Wally costumes, several of the WAGS immediately turned their noses up, my mother included. Not all the WAGS were intolerable, but one in particular, Orla Flanagan, wife to the fullback Gary Flanagan, couldn’t help voicing her opinion.
“Didn’t you get my email about having some figure-hugging jerseys made with our other half’s names on the back? I thought that would’ve been really cute.”
Making brief eye contact with Cara, we each exchanged cynical expressions. “I’m sorry, but tonight is a man-free zone. Besides, not all of us are lucky enough to have a rugby-playing beau in our lives,” I said, trying to keep my tone friendly.
Orla shot another of the WAGS a smug smile as she brought the champagne flute to her mouth. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
When I glanced at Annie sitting on the other side of the kitchen, she sent me a look of apology, but I shrugged it off. Being Ronan’s sister, I’d gotten used to women like these years ago. They weren’t all bad; some were rather nice, actually. But the ones who embraced the stereotype weren’t exactly my favorite people.
“Did you all bring a pair of comfortable shoes?” I asked, glancing around the room and spotting a few too many Louboutins. “You know we’re going on a Pedibus, right?”
