North Star - The Complete Series Box Set

by Tracey Ward

  “They pulled you in too?”

  “Moth to flame,” she chuckled dryly. “Oisin was a wild one. A fighter. Me da did’na approve. It only made me love him more, o’ course.”

  I smiled. “Kellen’s a boxer. He picked it up when he heard his grandpa was. He never saw firsthand what kind of man he was.”

  “Not much o’ one at all,” she drawled, her grin dissipating. She pulled her eyes from Kellen’s and brought them stonily back to mine. “Oisin was soft on the eyes an’ hard on the heart. We were madly in love to start, but when Bridgette was born, well, he began to drift. He fought more an’ came home less. Then we had Sean. Then Owen. Then nothin’. He was a stranger ‘fore Owen’s first birthday. The boys barely knew him. Bridgette barely ‘members him. I thought for so long he ran ‘cause we had children, but when he had the babe with his French woman an’ kept her even after she left, I wasn’t sure of anythin’ anymore.”

  “Owen said you didn’t know about Madeline for years,” I prodded delicately.

  “Oh, I knew. I knew immediately. I did’na tell my children, though. One night Oisin comes pokin’ around, askin’ for a divorce so he can wed his new woman. Said she was in a family way and was demandin’ he make her legitimate. Can you imagine? A prostitute askin’ he make an honest women of her? I told him ne’er was he to darken me doorstep again, an’ I shut his arse out in the cold.”

  I smiled at the pride in her voice. At the unmovable lines on her face that smacked of determination, indignation, and so many miles of self-respect she could ride them to Dublin and back.

  “’Course part o’ me regrets it now,” she continued quietly. “Knowin’ the boy had no family to turn to when his ma passed, it breaks me heart. I would’ve taken him in had I known. I would’ve opened me doors and me heart to him. We could’ve— well.” She stopped herself, clearing her throat gently. “What’s done is done an’ he’s here with us now. Ya both are an’ with a weddin’ on the way. Congratulations, child.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your family is excited.”

  She didn’t ask it as a question and that made me feel all the more guilty about the fact that I hadn’t called them yet. I should have said something about it by now. I’d had time. I could have done it as soon as we landed – I had my dad’s international cell phone with me in case of emergency. Didn’t Kellen and I getting engaged constitute an emergency? It would probably send us into Martial Law once Laney found out. She’d take over the world with her anger. Or would she?

  I didn’t know anymore and that’s why I hadn’t called them. She and I were finally good again. I wasn’t ready to go back to ground zero with her.

  I looked down at the ring on my finger, spinning it slowly and watching it catch the light. It was hypnotic. Tiring.

  “I haven’t told them yet,” I confessed reluctantly. “I don’t think… My sister isn’t going to like it.”

  “Why not?”

  “She and Kellen have history.”

  “They were steady?”

  I smiled at the antiquated phrasing but she was an antiquated woman and on her Irish tongue the phrase sounded sweet. So much sweeter than the ugly truth.

  “They were. For quite a while. And I loved him the whole time and he—he loved me for most of it. Even when he was with her.”

  I stopped, my head rising as I realized what I was doing. What I was saying. One second I’m telling this woman Kellen is worried they won’t like him and the next I’m confessing that he was engaged to another woman before he absconded with me. Not that much unlike another boxer with enchanting eyes.

  “That sounds terrible, I know, but I… I shouldn’t have told you all of that. It’s out of context. You have to know the whole truth and it’s not pretty and it’s—it’s—“

  “It’s why your sister will be angry,” Granny finished for me, her tone somber.

  I nodded, lowering my eyes again. Feeling like a child about to be scolded. And I deserved it. I deserved the judgement and the hate and the wrath I’d already endured and all that I would endure for what I did. I hated hurting people, hated disappointing them, and between my mom and Laney it seemed like that was all I ever did.

  “I stopped bein’ angry at Oisin the night I shut him out,” Granny told me slowly.

  I looked up, surprised to find her looking into the fire, her eyes far away, her face almost sad.

  “It wasn’t the baby what done it. It wasn’t his sad mug beggin’ at me door,” she continued dreamily. “It was me own babes in their beds. It was the lamp on the table I’d been readin’ by.” She drug her eyes to mine. “Oisin couldn’t be happy in that life, but I could, I was, and being angry at him was ruinin’ it for me, so I stopped. Simple.”

  I shook my head. “Laney would never see things that way. She’s happy now. She’s in love with another guy, and she and I are better than we were, but Kellen and I getting engaged is going to put us back at square one and I can’t stand the thought of her hating me again. I need to wait. I have to hold off on telling her until…”

  “Until when?”

  I laughed shakily, feeling a tear slip down my cheek. I was shocked to feel it. I hadn’t realized I was so choked up but it didn’t take much digging to understand why. It was the idea of hiding Kellen and I. I was excited. I was happy. I was going to marry the only man I’d ever loved, and I wanted to be thrilled about that but I couldn’t. Nothing about us could ever be easy. We’d never be simple.

  “Um, until Laney gets married,” I answered, wiping at my eyes. “Maybe six or so years after?”

  “Ah, lass,” she sighed sadly. “Ya dear, sweet, eejit.”

  “What?”

  “I said you’re an eejit,” she repeated, shaking her head in disappointment. “A fool.”

  “An idiot?”

  “Sure as yer sittin’ there. Ya canna postpone yer joy for others ‘cause the time will ne’er come. Is yer sister waitin’ round, askin’ yer permission to be happy?”

  “No.”

  “She’s not. She’s livin’ her life, lovin’ her fella, and what makes ya think ya canna do the same?”

  “Because it will hurt her.”

  Granny cut her gnarled hand across the air, swatting down my worries like flies. “She’ll heal.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Have ya made yer apologies to her?”

  “Several times.”

  “Fair focks. Move on.”

  “But it’s—“

  “Have ya not forgiven yerself yet?”

  I blanched under the accuracy of the question.

  She nodded sagely. “If ya don’t move on from it, how will she?”

  I stared at the edge of her chair, unseeing. Unmoving.

  A hand, warm and large, pressed against my back.

  “Are you doing okay?” Kellen asked.

  “No,” I muttered numbly. “I’m not.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I sighed. “I’m a focking eejit.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kellen

  Irish beer is good.

  Irish whiskey is better.

  I got one pint down with Owen, Sean, Donal, and Mason, and before the foam could settle down the side of the glass I had a new drink in my hand. This time it was a squat ceramic mug with amber liquid in the bottom, and for one weird second I thought they were giving me tea. Then I smelled it. Then I tasted it. Then I was in love.

  As the room and the liquor settled we split into two groups – women in the living room, men outside on the patio freezing our nuts off and refusing to complain about it. I wondered why we were out here, all of them going at each other about soccer and making me cringe each time they called it ‘football’, when Donal pulled out a pack of cigarettes. All of them pilfered one from his pack. All but me. I cringed when it was offered, a kneejerk reaction from my mom’s illness. From the lung cancer she’d picked up secondhand from her dad – from their dad – that had landed her in an early gr
ave.

  “Not a smoker, then?” Mason asked. He took a quick drag and expelled a thin white cloud out of the side of his mouth.

  “No, never have been.”

  “They’re mad for health and shite out there in California, aren’t they? Are you a vegan?”

  “A what?” Owen demanded.

  “They don’t eat meat. No chicken or fish. No beef.”

  Sean frowned at me. “Ya look like ya eat beef to me, lad. Hoof and all.”

  I smiled. “No, I eat meat. I’m not a vegan, but yeah, there are a lot of crazy health trends in California. A new one every week.”

  “There’s a bloke at school,” Mason said, his accent taking a turn toward the British. “He doesn’t eat meat. It’s a focking nightmare to go anywhere with him. Always asking the waiter how it’s cooked. Are there eggs in it? Did it touch cheese?” He laughed, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. “I order steak every time only to give him the piss.”

  “Where are you going to school?”

  “Trinners,” Owen answered proudly.

  Mason winced at the nickname. “Trinity College. In Dublin.”

  “That’s a great school,” I told him. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. Thanks.” He took a drag, eyeing me scrupulously. “Did you go to college?”

  “I did.”

  “Where was that then?”

  “Berkley Law.”

  “You’re a solicitor?”

  “I was a lawyer. I’m not anymore.”

  I glanced in the window, checking on Jenna.

  “Good money in that.”

  I spotted her sitting by the fire, her back to me.

  “There is. Not for me, though.”

  She was talking to my grandmother.

  “You were no good at it?” Mason asked bluntly.

  I turned to smile at him thinly. “I’m good at everything I do. Excuse me.”

  I handed him my mug and left without another word, heading inside. The room was unbearably warm compared to the crisp cold of the garden. It felt stuffy and nauseatingly hot the closer I got to the fire and Jenna and the elderly woman sitting in the high backed chair.

  She saw me coming but she didn’t react. She kept her focus on Jenna, on their conversation that looked more intense the closer I got.

  “It’s not that easy,” Jenna protested mildly.

  “Have ya made yer apologies to her?”

  “Several times.”

  “Fair focks,” the old woman said plainly. “Move on.”

  “But it’s—“

  “Have ya not forgiven yerself yet?”

  Jenna fell silent, her body going eerily still.

  The old woman nodded. “If ya don’t move on from it, how will she?”

  Laney, I thought bitterly.

  Jenna struggled with guilt over us every day, all because of Laney. Laney who never gave a shit about me. Laney who wouldn’t have cared if she married me or a machine that looked like me and made the same amount of money. Laney who drew out punishment for pleasure.

  I put my hand gently on Jenna’s rigid back. “Are you doing okay?”

  “No,” she muttered numbly. “I’m not.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, knowing exactly what was wrong.

  “I’m a focking eejit.”

  I blinked. Okay, maybe I didn’t know what was wrong?

  “You’re a what?”

  “An eejit,” the old woman clarified for me. “A fool.”

  Jenna ran her hand through her hair, tugging at the strands at the base of her neck before turning to look up at me with a wan smile. “Kellen, this is Grania. Granny for us if we can’t pronounce the Gaelic, but you probably can.” She looked at the woman. “He’s wicked smart. Great with languages.”

  I nodded to the woman. “It’s a pleasure.”

  She smiled in reply, her crinkled eyes scouring my face.

  I ignored her, looking down at Jenna and rubbing small circles between her shoulders. “Why are you a fool?”

  She sighed against my palm. “Because I am my own problem.”

  “Most are,” Granny agreed kindly.

  “Well not today. Not about this.” Jenna stood abruptly and stepped away toward the stairs. “I’m calling my parents and Laney. I’m telling them the news.”

  I took a step to follow her. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I’m sure. I’m so incredibly sure. I need to do it now because if I don’t make it okay then it will never happen and I…” she took a breath, a glance at Granny, and a smile played across her full lips, “I don’t want to wait for other people to tell me it’s okay to be happy. This is my joy and I’m claiming it.”

  Granny smiled at her approvingly, pride in her eyes that pushed Jenna on. That sent her up the stairs to her bag and presumably to her phone to call her family.

  “What did you say to her?” I asked Granny slowly.

  She shrugged, downshifting her smile to a smug grin. “Only everythin’ she needed to hear.”

  “I’m worried it’s too soon to thank you.”

  “No need to.”

  “It could blow up in her face,” I warned her. “Laney isn’t the forgiving kind.”

  “Maybe no, but Jenna is, an’ that’s what I told her. To forgive herself.”

  “That’s great, but when she comes back down those stairs with tears on her face, that’s on you.”

  Granny shook her head, unperturbed. “A few tears never killed a person. If ya make it through this life without cryin’, ya did’na live. ya did’na love anythin’ worth achin’ for an’ that’s the saddest thing I could ever dream of.”

  I looked from her to the stairs, suddenly feeling anxious. I was worried about Jenna, worried about what her family would think and say to her, but most of all I was worried about what one word from Laney could do to my world.

  “Yer a big one, aren’t ya?” Grania asked conversationally.

  I glanced down at her. “I’m tall, yeah. From the looks of it I didn’t get that from my grandfather’s side of the family.”

  “Oisin was a stout man. Built like an ox but short as a goat. Whatever height ya have ya did’na get it from him. Yer girl tells me yer a fighter.”

  “A boxer,” I corrected.

  “A boxer, then. Do you win?”

  “Almost exclusively.”

  She grinned. “Ya did’na get that from him either.”

  I sat down slowly, hesitantly. I didn’t take the stool Jenna had been perched on. I sat farther back, across from her with the fire crackling bright between us and our eyes on par.

  “What did I get from him?” I asked.

  She paused, looking me over again but her heart wasn’t in it. Her mind wasn’t behind it. It was somewhere else entirely.

  “Ya asked her to marry ya,” she stated by way of answer.

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Because I love her.”

  She hummed thoughtfully. It sounded like a song. “There are two types of men in the world. Men who want to be loved an’ men who love. Beautiful boys like yerself, like Oisin was an’ Mason is, ya want to be loved. Ya want to be looked at an’ adored, an’ that’s all well an’ fine, but it doesn’t keep a woman. If ya don’t ask yerself at the end of each night an’ the start of each day how ya can love her better, then ya have no business getting married at all.”

  I chewed on that, pensively staring at her hands that sat weathered and still in her lap. I took my time, her time, probably something she didn’t have much of left, but still I took it. I considered her words and my answer carefully.

  I sat forward slowly. “I don’t like people. In fact, I hate them. As far as I’ve seen the vast majority of them are liars and thieves who want one thing from you and they’ll do everything they can to get it, and they’ll leave you broken and alone once they have it. Some people are exceptions. Jenna is an exception, and still I have trouble. Still I have to wor
k to love her every day because I’m fighting against a conditioning that tells me that she’ll ruin me in the end. But still I do it. I do it like I need it to breathe. Like I need it to live, because I do. Because when I’m not loving her, I’m not living. So you can spare me your Old World wisdom and folkish advice because there’s not a person alive or dead that’s walked this earth who could possibly begin to tell me how to love that woman better than I already do.”

  I rose purposefully from the chair and strode across the suddenly silent room. I took the stairs at an even pace, one foot in front of the other in a walk, not a retreat. Not a run.

  I was done with running.

  Once I was upstairs I paused outside our bedroom door, listening for the sound of her voice. I didn’t hear it. I knocked once, opening the door slowly.

  Jenna sat on the edge of the bed, the phone hanging loosely in her hand. Her face was calm and coated in tears that shone like diamonds on her cheeks, cutting me clean through to the bone. She looked up when I came in, a shaky smile bursting over her lips.

  “My parents wanted me to send you their love,” she laughed roughly. “They said congratulations. Dad said ‘it’s about time’.”

  “What did Laney say?” I asked point blank.

  Her smile crumbled as her chin shook tremulously. She took a thin breath. “Uh, she didn’t say anything. She… yeah, she hung up on me. And that…” she laughed unevenly, fresh tears streaming down her face. “That hurts worse than if she’d yelled at me.”

  I closed the door and went to kneel on the floor in front of her. She looked down at me, her eyes lost as I took her hands.

  “Why is that worse, Kel?” she whispered.

  “Because Laney never misses a chance to be indignant.”

  She nodded, pinching her lips together and sniffing sharply. “Yeah.”

  I rubbed her hands briskly between my own. “What can I do?”

  “Marry me,” she answered immediately.

  “Let’s go.”

  “What?”

  “Right now. I’ll marry you today. Let’s go.”

  She smiled, this one smaller but more genuine. Sturdier. “We can’t. It wouldn’t be legal back home. You were a big, fancy lawyer. You should know that.”