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Keeping 13

Page 68

by Chloe Walsh


  When we reached the freshly dug grave in the far corner of the graveyard, I watched numbly as they shifted my mother onto the boards next to the plot. Wordlessly, Joey and Darren returned to stand beside us as Father McCarthy continued to pray over my mother's grave.

  Johnny was standing so close behind me that I could smell his aftershave and feel the light movement of his shirt against my back as he breathed in and out.

  Slow and steady.

  In and out.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  I allowed myself to lean against him, taking all the comfort he was offering me, allowing him to be my strength in this moment.

  When Father McCarthy finished the final part of the service, I watched as Patrick Feely stepped up to the microphone the priest had been using and gently strummed on the guitar strapped to his chest. Father McCarthy had asked if there was a song we would like to be played during the service, and Johnny had mentioned to Darren that his friend played the guitar and would be honored to play for us. With the help of Feely, Darren had picked some lovely songs for the ceremony but it was Joey who had chosen the song to be played when Mam was being lowered into the ground. He was adamant that it had to be that specific song.

  When Feely began to sing the words of Live's Lightning Crashes, his voice so beautiful and haunting, the lyrics so cutting and deep, I lost the battle with my emotions. Knowing that Joey had chosen this song for Mam made it almost unbearable to hear. The pain in my heart was too much to handle.

  "I can't –" Crying hard and ugly, I spun around and buried my face in Johnny's chest, unable to watch Joey and Darren slowly lower her into the ground. "I can't do it!"

  "I've got you, baby," Johnny whispered, wrapping me up in his arms. "I'm right here."

  "No! The worms – it's too dark! Stop! Mammy – Mammy, no!" Ollie started to scream so loudly that I jerked away from Johnny with the intention of cuddling him, but he pushed his way through the crowd and ran straight for Mr. Kavanagh. Crouching down, Johnny's father lifted Ollie into his arms and quickly walked him away from the grave and back towards the gates to where Mrs. Kavanagh was standing with Sean.

  My brothers carefully lowered her into the ground and then blessed themselves.

  Sobbing hard, Darren walked straight over to Alex.

  Like he had when she was alive, Joey remained right by our mother's side, staring into the hole in the ground that would be her final resting place. A lone tear drop fell from his cheek and I watched it as it disappeared into the grave with her.

  Patrick finished his song, and the crowds of mourners slowly scattered away until it just a few of our close friends remaining.

  Sniffling, Tadhg walked over to where Joey was standing and placed his hand in his. Never taking his eyes off the grave, Joey draped an arm around our little brother and pulled him into his chest. "You have to go, Joe," Tadhg told him. "Those guys are waiting down at the gates with John and Edel to take you to the hospital."

  "I'm, uh…" Clearing his throat, Joey patted Tadhg's head. "You go on with Darren. I just need some time."

  "But you have to go now –"

  "Come on, Tadhg," Darren cut him off gently as he led him away from Joey. "Give him a minute." Squeezing Joey's shoulder, he whispered, "I'll be up to see you as soon as you're allowed visitors."

  "Come back, okay?" Sniffling, Tadhg wrapped his arms around Joey's waist. "Get better and come back to us, you fucker."

  "Yeah." Joey nodded weakly. "That's the plan, kid."

  "He's going to get better," Darren told them. "You are. You can do this, Joey Lynch. You're the strongest, most headstrong person I've ever known in my life."

  "Just take him, Darren –" Exhaling a ragged breath, Joey dropped his head. "I can't do this with them here."

  Without another word, Darren led a crying Tadhg away from the grave.

  "Joe," I croaked out, tears dripping down my cheeks, as I clung to my boyfriend. "I don't want you to –"

  "Don't say it, Shan," he begged, tearing his gaze off the grave to look at me. "If you say those words, I won't be able to. And I really need to do this –" His voice cracked and he dragged in a sharp breath before turning his bloodshot gaze on Johnny. "Kavanagh, can you do me a favor and look after –"

  "Consider it done, lad," Johnny replied gruffly, tightening his hold on me. "No worries."

  Aoife, who had been standing to the side, silently observing everything, stepped forward then. Without a word, she walked right up to my mother's grave, dropped a single red rose inside, and turned around to face my brother.

  "I told you not to come," he told her, trembling.

  "And I told you to save your breath," she replied, tipping her chin up to face him.

  "You shouldn't be here," he strangled out, shaking his head. "You know it's not good –"

  "I don't care," she cut him off by saying. "Now put your arms around me and hold me like you're not going to see me for another three months."

  "Jesus –" Shuddering, Joey pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers. "You don't wait, do you hear me?" Sniffling, he cupped her cheeks in his trembling hands and looked into her eyes. "You live your life, okay?"

  "You shut up, Joey Lynch," she sobbed, gripping his sides. "I love you."

  "You shut up, Aoife Molloy," he shot back gruffly and pressed a kiss to her brow. "I love you, too."

  "I'll be here when you get out," she told him.

  "Don't be here," he strangled out. "Be somewhere better."

  "I don't take orders from you," she squeezed out. "You should know that by now."

  "Because you're crazy stupid," he whispered. "You're wasting your life on me. You know this. Everyone keeps telling you, but you won't listen –"

  "Because it's my life to waste," she shot back defiantly. "Now, you get your sexy ass better and come home to me." Reaching a hand behind him, she pinched his ass for emphasis. "Because I'm going to need you healthy, okay?"

  "Aoife, I'm a bad bet –"

  "Okay?"

  He heaved a heavy sigh and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

  "Now, give me a kiss and tell me you love me," she instructed, lip wobbling. "And make it a good one."

  "Come on, Shan," Johnny said, distracting me from Joey and Aoife as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Let's leave them be."

  "Yeah, okay." Shivering, I leaned into his side as we walked away from the graveside. "Thanks for today," I told him, slipping a hand around his waist. "For everything."

  "Shan, you were so amazing these last few days," Johnny replied gruffly. "I don't know where that strength comes from, but it's so humbling." He shook his head and blew out a breath. "I don't even have the words to tell you how fucking incredible you are, Shannon Lynch."

  "I'm not an incredible anything, Johnny," I croaked out. "I'm just trying to keep my head above water and not drown."

  "You won't drown – you're a survivor," he told me.

  "I'm not a good swimmer," I admitted.

  "Then I'll throw you a lifejacket and swim out to get you," he shot back, tucking me into his side. "Because I'm an excellent swimmer."

  "You talking about your swimmers on a day like today?" Gibsie quipped when we joined him and the rest of our family and friends at the gates of the cemetery. "Christ, Johnny, you sure do pick your moments, lad."

  "Oh, shut up, you big eejit," Lizzie grumbled, slapping the back of his head. "You need to pick your moments."

  "It's called looking on the bright side," Gibsie shot back, glaring at her. "And that's called assault."

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Don't talk to me."

  "Fine," Gibsie countered. "Don't touch me."

  "No problem," Lizzie muttered. "I need hand sanitizer anyway."

  "Yeah," Gibsie bit out. "For your tongue."

  "Can you two pack it in for one bleeding day?" Johnny hissed, bristling. "Christ, look at where you are." He inclined his head to where my younger brothers were standing with his parents, watching their interaction wi
th curious eyes. "Just call a truce for an hour," he added, smoothing a hand up and down my arm. "We don't need any more fighting."

  "Yeah," Lizzie said, cheeks reddening. "Of course."

  "Ignore them, chickie," Claire said, stepping forward to wrap her arms around me. "You did such a good job today. I'm so proud of you."

  "Thanks, Claire." Shivering, I hugged her back tightly before taking a step back and smiling weakly. "Thank you all for coming." I looked up at Feely who was standing between Hughie and Gibsie and said, "Thank you so much for doing that for my family." Clasping my hands together, I nodded to the guitar case at his feet and smiled. "You have a very beautiful voice."

  His cheeks turned bright pink. "I was honored to be asked."

  "He's our dark horse, this fella," Gibsie interjected good-naturedly, slapping a hand on Feely's shoulder. "Pa's full of surprises."

  "John, did you have to give him chocolate buttons?" Mrs. Kavanagh groaned loudly and it caught my attention. "It's twenty-four degrees outside and he's wearing a custom Ralph Lauren." Kneeling down in front of Sean, she pulled a tissue out of her designer handbag and dabbed at my baby brother's chocolate covered face and fingers. "What did he give you, Seany, hmm?"

  "He wanted a snack." Mr. Kavanagh chuckled, not sounding one bit sorry. "And you're worse for putting a six-hundred-euro suit on a toddler, baby." Slipping his hand into his tailored suit pants pocket, he pulled out a handful of mini bags of chocolate buttons and passed them around to Tadhg and Ollie, who were grinning in delight.

  "Don't be jealous," Johnny warned Gibsie who was scowling at my brothers. "You're on a diet – and you're a grown ass man."

  "Don't worry, my old flower," Mr. Kavanagh said before tossing a packet to Gibsie. "I've got some for you, too."

  "Score," Gibsie snickered as he ripped open the packet and hoofed them down in one mouthful.

  "I don't know about you, Gibs," Feely said with a pained sigh. "I really don't."

  "Take the boys back to the car, will you, love? I need to have a word with Joey before we go," Mrs. Kavanagh said as she straightened up and smoothed down her dress. "You're all more than welcome back to the house for some lunch."

  "Thank you."

  "Yeah, thanks a million, Mrs. Kavanagh."

  "Sound as a pound, Mammy K," Gibsie chimed in. "I'll be there with bells on."

  "And don't you dare give those boys anymore treats before their lunch, John." Smirking at her husband, Mrs. Kavanagh leaned up on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his clean-shaven cheek before saying, "Or you won't be getting your treat."

  "Jesus Christ," Johnny strangled out, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Come on, Shan –" Gagging, he grabbed my hand, and moved for the gate. "Let's get out of here before we both start anxious puking."

  73

  Picnics and Piercings

  Johnny

  It was a sweltering summer's day, and under any other circumstances, I would have been stripped down to my jocks someplace close to a beach or a river, but my girlfriend had just buried both of her parents, so I sucked it up and settled for removing my tie and undoing the top three buttons of my dress shirt instead.

  Eight of us were sprawled out in the back field of my house, still clad in our funeral clothes, watching as Tadhg, Ollie, and Sean played in the treehouse. All of the grown-ups were back at the house, serving food and chatting general shite. It was too much for Shannon – I'd known it the moment we stepped through the door and she had been confronted with a fresh horde of sympathizers – so we had escaped outside with our friends and a mountain of food tucked under our arms.

  Stretched out on the flat of my back in the grass, I curled a strand of her hair around my finger and inhaled deeply, breathing her scent into my chest and then sighing in contentment.

  "I could stay here forever," she whispered, voicing my thoughts aloud, from where she was nestled in the crook of my arm, baking in the summer sunshine. Tangling her fingers with mine, she nuzzled her cheek against my chest. "Just right here in this moment."

  "Hmm." Nodding in agreement, I gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Me, too."

  "Well, I can't take it anymore," Gibsie announced with a huff. "I'm really sorry, Little Shannon," he added as he sat up and started ripping at the buttons of his shirt. "I know I'm supposed to be respectful and considerate of your feelings and shit – and I really am trying to be good here – but if I don't get out of these clothes soon, you're all going to be burying me!" Yanking off his shirt, he tossed it on top of Claire, who was sprawled out beside him, before moving for the buckle of his belt. "My balls are sweating so bad, I'm going to chafe my gooch!"

  I opened my mouth to give him a lecture about discussing his bollocks around my girlfriend, but the sound of her laughter had me holding my tongue. "What's a gooch?"

  "Oh my god, you did not just ask him that, Shan," Lizzie grumbled from where she was making a daisy chain.

  "Ew," Katie groaned, joining her daisy chain to Lizzie's one. "I hate that word."

  "Me, too," Lizzie agreed. "It's beyond disturbing."

  "What?" Shannon shrugged. "I don't know what that is."

  "Me either," Claire offered, holding her hand up.

  "Well then," Gibsie chuckled, rising to his feet. "It's about time I gave you girls an education on the male form, isn't it?"

  "If you take your jocks off in front of my sister and my girlfriend, you won't have a gooch left," Hughie snarled, glaring at Gibsie who had his suit pants and shoes kicked off and was reaching for the waistband of his white boxers.

  "Or a heartbeat," I warned, pulling myself up on my elbows to glare at him. "Don't even think about it, fucker."

  "Put your pants back on," Feely said calmly. "There are kids up that tree."

  "I'm not putting my pants back on," Gibsie shot back, looking outraged. "For the benefit of innocent eyes, I'll agree to leave my jocks on, but that's my best offer. It's too damn hot."

  "Look at his boobies," Ollie laughed from the treehouse. Pointing a finger at Gibsie, he said, "He's got earrings on them."

  "Stop earwigging, Ollie," Shannon called back.

  "And look! He's got a tattoo on his –"

  "Ollie," Shannon snapped. "Go and play."

  "Fine," Ollie huffed before disappearing back into the treehouse.

  "Boobies," Hughie snickered. "I love that kid."

  "Hey, Katie," Gibsie purred in retaliation, waggling his brows at Hughie's girlfriend. Flexing his pecs, he asked, "What do you think of my boobies?"

  "I prefer Hughie's boobies," Katie shot back with a smirk. "They're so much perkier."

  "Nice try, fucker," Hughie snickered, pulling himself up from his lying position to smack a kiss to his girlfriend's cheek.

  Huffing out a breath, Gibsie turned to Claire and grinned devilishly. "The gooch is the area of skin between a man's balls and his a–"

  "Shut the fuck up, lad," I hissed, tossing a bottle of water at him.

  "His asshole," Gibsie finished, completely unaffected by the bottle that had just smacked off the side of his head. "Or anus, if you want to get technical."

  "Shut the front door!" Claire gasped, clambering into a sitting position. Her eyes were wide in wonder and glued to the front of Gibsie's jocks. "And you never told me that before?"

  "I can show you," he offered in a flirtatious tone. "Come behind that tree with me and I'll give you a thorough lesson in the male anatomy –"

  "Wait a damn minute!" Hughie growled, attention riveted to the same place his sister was staring. Springing straight up, he pointed to Gibsie's jocks and hissed, "When did you get that?"

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," Gibsie whistled, feigning innocence.

  Looking mildly horrified, Hughie tilted his head to one side, clearly inspecting his junk. "Show us."

  "You said I'm not allowed take my jocks off," Gibsie sniffed, folding his arms across his chest. "You threatened my gooch."

  "Holy shit," Feely choked out a laugh. "You didn't!"


  "He fucking did," Hughie muttered, paling a little.

  "Ah, lad," Feely groaned, rolling onto his side. "You are troubled."

  "You don't seem surprised, Cap," Hughie noted, eyeing me suspiciously. "Why are you not surprised?"

  "What did he do?" Shannon asked me.

  "Uh…" Sitting up, I resisted the urge to tuck her face into my chest and cover her ears. "You don't want to know."

  "The genius pierced his penis," Lizzie deadpanned. "Look at it – I can see it popping out through his jocks. It's practically waving hello."

  "Don't look at it," I barked. "None of you look at it." Turning to Gibsie, I hissed, "You put it away."

  "I can't believe you got a Prince Albert piercing," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. "That's so tacky."

  "He didn't," Claire was quick to defend. "He got a Jacob's Ladder, and it's not tacky. It's very nice."

  "And how the hell would you know?" Hughie demanded, glaring at his sister. "What have you been up to? Hmm?" He narrowed his eyes. "Were you looking at his ladder?" Claire's cheeks reddened and Hughie turned his glare on Gibsie. "Did you corrupt my sister?"

  "No…" Claire replied, cheeks burning red now. "I…uh, just spotted it."

  "You spotted it," Hughie repeated, tone laced with disbelief. "And where did you happen to spot his pierced dick, Claire?"

  "Johnny got the call up!" Gibsie blurted out, throwing me right under the bus. "Johnny got the call up. Johnny got the call up. Focus on that!"

  "What?" Hughie's eyes widened and his head snapped towards me. "You got the call up?"

  "You did?" Feely demanded, eyes wide in astonishment. "When?"

  Shannon stiffened beside me and I mentally envisioned myself standing up and beating the ever-living shite out of my best friend. "Thanks, friend," I bit out, glowering at Gibsie.

  "Yes!" Claire squealed, nodding eagerly. "Please god, focus on that."

  "And not what I did to your sister," Gibsie agreed.

  "What the fuck did you do to my sister?" Hughie demanded. "If you put that metal rod near her, I'm going cut it off –"

 

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