Feel Me: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family)

by Cecy Robson

An array of “fuck you’s” “I have goddamn class” and other such colorful references overpower my hello.

  Tess appears (thank God!), lifting the pan of stuffed shrimp from my hands. She kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” she tells me, before disappearing into the advancing crowd.

  The moment Declan helps me out of my coat, arms, lots and lots of arms, pull me into bodies ranging from extra-large to extremely tiny. Kisses greet me from all sides. I’m inundated with affection, struggling to make out what people are saying between the loud voices surrounding me and the back noise. Everyone speaks at once, causing my head to jerk in all directions. I fail miserably at catching everyone’s names. But it’s what I do pick up on that eases some of my distress.

  “Thank Christ you’re not another skank,” his sister Wren tells me, smiling brightly.

  “Look, and she actually has an ass,” his older brother Angus adds, pointing.

  I should be embarrassed, but all I can do is smile. They’re . . . lovely.

  “Where’s Ma?” Declan asks Wren.

  She takes a swig of her beer. “Out in the garage.”

  Declan frowns. “What is she doing out there?”

  “Pouring more whisky into her cup.” She holds out her hand. “I’m sorry, pouring more ‘iced tea’ into her cup,” she replies with finger quotes. “You’d think we’d be talking this way if she was in here?”

  “Okay. I’ll check on her in a minute,” he says. “Come on, Miles, let’s watch the game.” He touches my arm, so I’m sure to read his lips as someone blasts the volume. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, trying to keep from reacting to the increasing volume. Declan notices anyway, veering back to yell at one of his three hundred brothers. “Hey, Seamus. Turn it down ―”

  “It’s okay,” I say, squeezing his arm.

  He doesn’t think it is, and mostly it’s not. But I don’t want to make a fuss especially when everyone is being so welcoming.

  Declan considers me for a beat. “I’m okay,” I insist. “Really.”

  Although he doesn’t seem to believe me, he nods once and leads my Dad into the family room. No sooner do they sit in front of the mother of all flat screens than someone slaps a beer in each of their hands. I’m not sure Dad should drink, but I don’t want to baby him, nor do I want to keep him from having fun.

  I watch him settle, wishing Mae could have come, not just for me, but mostly for Dad. She used the short week to return to England and settle some affairs so she can commit to staying long term with dad. “I don’t want to have to leave him again,” she told me. But the way her voice trembled, she meant, “I don’t want him to leave me.”

  Wren says something. I don’t realize she’s talking to me, until she touches my arm.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. “Can you repeat that?”

  She grins. “I asked if you want to go into the kitchen and see if Tess needs help, seeing how she looks ready to pop.”

  “Of course,” I say.

  I follow her, glancing back at Dad and Declan. One of the brothers says something that makes them chuckle. Dad wasn’t feeling well earlier and Declan seemed tense on the ride over. I want them to have a good time. Now that they’re getting comfortable, maybe they will.

  We’re only halfway across the family room when Tess rushes out with a tray packed with appetizers only to be intercepted by Finn. “What are those?” he asks, motioning with a jerk of his chin.

  “Vegan egg rolls,” she answers.

  “Vegan?” he says, like it’s a dirty word. “What the hell?” He calls to those around him. “Hey! Tess fucked up Thanksgiving―”

  She rams the egg roll into his mouth and keeps walking. Finn grimaces, chewing like a puppy would on a lemon, his scowl relaxing with every bite. “Hmm. These are pretty good,” he says through a mouthful of food. He chases after her. “Can I have another one?”

  Wren throws her arm around me, laughing. “You’ll get used to us,” she tells me.

  We round the corner and step into the kitchen. Relief floods me as the noise cuts down by half. I let out a sigh, closing my eyes briefly.

  Wren drops her hand away. “You okay?” she asks. “You seem inundated. I know we’re an obnoxious bunch, but it’s all in good fun.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It was a little bit of sensory overload in there with the T.V. on and everyone speaking at once. Sometimes, despite my hearing aids, it’s hard to distinguish where sound is coming from, and with so many people, it’s hard to lip read.”

  “Gotcha,” she says. “I used to date a guy who was hearing impaired. Biggest, hairiest balls I’ve ever seen.” She takes a big gulp of her beer, shaking out her hand. “I’m not sure how he could even walk straight and was convinced he was fathered by Bigfoot. He tried to deny it, but that shit wasn’t natural, you hear what I’m saying?”

  I cover my mouth, laughing when Curran marches in with Tess and Declan. “Would you like some wine?” Declan asks.

  He barely looks my way. I’m not certain he’s talking to me.

  “Melissa?” he asks, handing me a glass.

  “Um. Sure,” I say. “Anything is fine.”

  I start to ask what Tess needs help with when Curran taps my shoulder. Hey, Melissa. Glad you could come, he motions. I hear you and Declan are going at it like gorillas in the fucking mist. Good for you.

  My eyes fly open as I slowly look back at Declan, torn between laughing and curling beneath the nearest cabinet. He glances up as he tops off my wine. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I don’t answer, because I can’t, especially when this tiny older woman steps in from the garage. I straighten, unsure how to respond knowing she’s Declan’s mother.

  Curran answers for me. “I just told her that I’m glad you’re doing it like gorillas. Oh, and that she could spend Thanksgiving with us.”

  “Curran!” Tess screams, but it’s the little old lady’s slap upside his head that reddens his face.

  “Get back in the family room before your mother kills you,” Tess says, shoving him in front of her and leading him out of the kitchen.

  “Sorry, Ma,” Curran calls over his shoulder, even though it’s clear that he’s not.

  Wren motions to her mother’s drink. “You enjoying your iced tea there, Ma?” she asks, winking my way.

  “I would be, me darlin’,” she tells her in a very sweet and thick Irish accent. “If my only daughter would give me the grandchildren I deserve.”

  “Ma, Evan and I are engaged. What more do you want?”

  “Grandchildren,” she says, as if Wren didn’t hear her the first time.

  “Christ,” Wren grumbles, making a quick exit out of the kitchen.

  On my best day, I don’t I think I’d be prepared to meet Declan’s mother. And this for certain isn’t my best day. She’s tiny, perhaps five feet tall and maybe ninety pounds, at best. Yet the strength she carries in her blue eyes reminds me of Declan’s, and so does her smile. Despite her kindly disposition, however, I don’t doubt this woman could take me to the ground.

  “Hi, Mama,” Declan says. He bends practically in half to kiss her cheek. “I’d like you to meet Melissa.”

  I try to step forward, but stop, given that Declan isn’t exactly motioning me forward. He seems far away despite that only mere feet separate us.

  I do my best to smile and offer her my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. O’Brien,” I say.

  She returns my smile, nodding in way that I think she approves of me. “Please call me, Mama,” she says.

  I swear it’s like I can feel my heart fill. I place my hand over my chest. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  My smile dissolves when I realize Declan isn’t smiling. He lowers his head, his expression tight.

  “Her father is in the next room,” he says quietly. “I’ll introduce you, Ma.”

  He presses his hand against her small back, leading her in the direction of the family room. She c
ocks her head as if confused by his actions. I am too, unsure what’s bothering him. He glances back at me. The motion is brief, and not reassuring, even though I need it to be then.

  I should follow them and use the opportunity to become better acquainted with her. After all, it is my father she’s meeting. But Declan’s response makes me feel like he needs a moment.

  The timer goes off over the stove, giving me an excuse to turn away. I open the oven door. Tiny quiches line a cooking sheet, the edges already browning and close to burning. I reach for a towel placed on the counter and lift them out of the oven.

  I’m searching for a plate to serve them on when Tess, Sofia, Wren, and Molly return to the kitchen. “Oh, crap,” Tess says. “I forgot all about these. Thank you, Melissa.”

  “Of course,” I say.

  I force a smile, making small talk with the women as I try to dismiss Declan’s behavior. I suppose he’s nervous, but I was rather taken aback by how he acted. He seems so different lately, especially today, and very unlike the man who I’ve slept beside these past two months.

  He’s just nervous, I reason yet again. I don’t want to believe there’s more going on. We depend on each other so much, and we’ve grown close. Or so I thought . . .

  “Where’s Evan?” I ask Wren, realizing she appears as alone as I am.

  The women look back at her, appearing sad. Wren smiles, regardless that she seems sad enough for all of them. “On a business trip, meeting with some big shots in Europe.” She laughs. “They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving so this was another week for them and another great opportunity for Evan.” She shrugs as her good humor fades. “He told me he’d do his best to make it back today, but everyone else is trying to make it back too.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Yeah. Me, too,” she replies. “But he promised me this is the last Thanksgiving I’ll spend without him.” She grins, and points at me with her bottle. “I’m holding him to that.”

  I don’t know Evan. But something in her voice assures me he’ll keep that promise.

  I busy myself peeling potatoes and helping Wren set the table because, and I quote, “I don’t fucking cook.”

  We spend our time running in and out of the kitchen with plates of appetizers. But as we finish lining the table with casserole dishes, I find myself with nothing to do.

  I turn to Tess as she walks in with her little daughter perched on her hip. “What’s left?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she says, sounding relieved. “Just to carve the turkey, but Curran has another twenty minutes before it’s time.”

  The noise level grows with the escalating action of the football game. My attention wanders to Declan only to squint when everyone yells at once. “All right, I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  “Would you mind taking Fiona?” she asks.

  “Do you think she’ll let me?”

  The mini-version of herself in ponytails lifts her head from her shoulder and kicks out her feet, excitedly. Tess laughs. “She loves being on the porch at night. Curran and I will sit with her outside for hours sometime. It helps us all settle.”

  “I’d love to,” I say, reaching for her.

  Fiona falls against me. “Aw, sweet girl,” I say, cuddling her close.

  Tess wraps her a large blanket around us. “Let me get you your coat.”

  “I’ll be all right,” I say.

  Tess adjusts the blanket around my shoulders, her focus skipping to where Declan is sitting with my father and his mother. “Melissa, about how Declan is behaving―”

  “You mean acting like an asshole,” Wren clarifies.

  “Wren,” Tess says quietly, like she doesn’t want me to hear, or for Wren to acknowledge how distant he appears.

  She huffs. “Come on, Tess, he hasn’t even checked in on her. If they hadn’t shown up together, I wouldn’t even know they were a thing.”

  She’s right, but I don’t want to admit something that will embarrass us both. “He’s distracted,” I tell them. “There’s a lot going on at the office he has to sort through.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay to ignore you,” Wren says.

  Sofia passes us on her way to the kitchen, shooting me a worried glance. Wonderful, she’s noticed too.

  My face warms. “This is all new to him,” I say. I try to act unaffected, but the hurt remains. I adjust my hold around Fiona and motion toward the front of the house. “I’ll be outside if you need me, okay?”

  “Of course,” Tess says. “Thank you for looking after the baby.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” I assure her.

  I skitter around the family room as another touchdown is scored and the O’Briens lose their minds. Sofia steps into the family room and places more food on coffee table. Killian pulls her to him when she tries to walk away, and onto his lap. Declan watches them as she settles comfortably against him, his face absent of any emotion that might tell me what he’s feeling. But when he looks up at me, and he sees me holding the baby, I catch something I’ve never seen in him.

  He looks . . . defeated. I’m not sure what’s happening, and I want to talk to him about it, but as he bows his head and rubs his hands, I realize it’s not the right time.

  I step out onto the porch, shutting the door behind me. There’s no breeze, but the cold settles around me, chilling my cheeks while little Fiona keeps the rest of me warm.

  “Hey, Melissa,” Finn yells, startling me.

  He laughs when Fiona grins at him. The light on the porch doesn’t extend to where he’s sitting, swathing him in darkness. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.

  Finn is not someone people would call shy. He’s seemingly just as loud and personable as the rest of his family, but every now and then, he needs a moment alone. If I hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know him, this is a side of him that I wouldn’t have imagined.

  I move closer to where he’s sitting on a couch and ease down.

  “Too loud for you in there?” he asks, stretching out his fingers.

  Fiona instantly grips them in her small hand, shaking them.

  “It’s a little overwhelming,” I admit.

  He strokes Fiona’s head as she settles against me. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard that about us once or twice.” He puts his bottle of water on the floor. “You should have been there when we met Tess—or better yet, when Evan met us. I’m surprised they didn’t run away screaming.”

  “Was it that bad?” I ask, rubbing Fiona’s back.

  “Worse,” he says. “Evan wasn’t even dressed.”

  “Oh,” I say, grimacing.

  “Yeah,” he says, laughing. “Poor bastard.”

  He trains his stare ahead and away from me. I start to think that maybe he needs this time alone. But I can’t return inside just yet. I sink into the cushions. They’re cold, but it feels good against my back after all the running around we did in kitchen.

  I quiet, closing my eyes and taking a moment to rest my battered senses. Fiona tucks her little body closer, I think she’s falling asleep, but I can’t be sure.

  “Are you on call today?” Finn asks, his breath visible in the frigid air.

  “No,” I tell him. “I have someone else covering for me.”

  “Good,” he says. “You probably need a break from it all.”

  The way he responds make me think he’s talking about him as much as me. “How are you doing?” I ask.

  He offers a small smile. “Better. A lot better.”

  “I’m glad,” I tell him. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and you haven’t called.”

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “Don’t be,” I assure him. “You don’t need me as much. That’s a good thing. But I’m always here if you do.”

  “Does Declan know about all those times we talked?”

  I shake my head. “Only if you told him.”

  “Nah. I haven’t said shit. When everything that happened, happened, I needed them to know I was okay.
” He huffs. “Even though I wasn’t, I needed them to believe I’d still get there.”

  “And you did,” I agree, smoothing my hand along Fiona’s back.

  “I had help.” He nudges me. “Lots of it. Don’t know where I’d be without it.”

  God, he looks so much like Declan, only younger, and instead of blond hair, ginger curls top his head.

  “How are you and Sol?”

  His big smile is enough of an answer. “She’s the best,” he tells me. His smile fades. “She’s visiting her mom and says she’ll be here. But it’s hard for her when she goes and sometimes needs a little time to recover.”

  His voice trails as he looks out to the large expanse of Curran and Tess’s front lawn. I don’t see or hear anything, but I can tell Finn picked up on something. He rises, moving fast and toward the front door.

  The noise inside explodes like grenade when he throws the door open. “Hey, Wren, Wren! Evan’s here.”

  I stand with Fiona as Finn backs away and Wren races through the threshold. “I swear to Christ, Finnie, if you’re messing with me, I’m going to beat your ass.”

  Her words cut off as a tall man with dark wavy hair about Declan’s age steps near the bottom of the steps and into the light, smiling. He releases the handle to his suitcase and drops the heavy briefcase at his feet. “Hello, love,” he tells her in a British accent.

  Wren launches herself forward. The force she uses to straddle him should knock him to the ground. He hangs tight, welcoming her embrace and one hell of a kiss.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, pulling only slightly away.

  He carries her up the stairs as if she’s nothing yet smiles like she’s everything. “I didn’t want to miss our first Thanksgiving together.” He eases her down slowly, clasping Finn’s hand when he hurries up with his bags. “Thank you, Finn,” he tells him, keeping his other arm secure around Wren.

  “Hey, thanks for showing,” Finn replies. He tosses the bags just inside the foyer. “This is Melissa, Deck’s woman,” he says, motioning to me.

  Ordinarily the introduction as Declan’s “woman” would make me gush. Not today. “Hello, Evan,” I say, politely.

  “Pleasure,” he says, shaking my hand. He’s pleasant, but it’s as if he can’t wait to return to Wren.