“Maybe I’ll bring Connie here someday. When she’s a little older. She asks about Joey. Not often, but sometimes it’s like she’ll have a memory of something and ask questions. When she’s older, I’ll bring her here and tell her the story.”

“When she’s much older,” I advise as we walk back to the car. “Because I’m twenty-eight, and I don’t fully understand it.”

“You’re only twenty-eight?” Heather asks and then laughs again. “That’s right, I was way more of a cradle robber than I thought I was. Just another part of the story. At least, he was of age, and I didn’t break any laws—in that respect, anyway.”

“I don’t think you broke any laws,” I say after we’ve lowered ourselves into the car and fastened our seat belts. “I’m sorry I never spoke to you before.”

“Are you kidding? I would have told me to go fuck myself.”

“I might have said that under my breath when I hung up on you.”

“As it should have been.” She starts the car. “Wanna grab a coffee on the way back to your house?”

“Hell, yes.”

The drive into town is quick, and Heather pulls up to my favorite drive-thru coffee stand. We place our order and then head to my house.

My ma and da are sitting on the porch swing as if they just hang out there every day.

When Heather stops the car, I turn to her.

“Want to meet my parents?”

Her eyes widen, and she snorts out a laugh. “Hell, why not?”

“They’re nice. You’ll like them.”

When we climb the stairs with our coffees, I smile at my parents.

“Hi, guys. This is Heather. Heather, this is Fiona and Tom O’Callaghan, my parents.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Ma croons and stands, but rather than hugging me, she wraps her arms around Heather. “Are you all right, then?”

“I’m…I’m fine, thank you.” Heather pats Ma’s back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I told you,” I say as I sit next to Da and rest my head on his shoulder, “we tend to just bring people into the fold. And it looks like you’ve been folded.”

“I would think you’d be angry with me,” Heather says as fresh tears fill her eyes.

“And what for?” Da demands. “T’wasn’t your fault that Joey Lemon was a lowlife, was it? And you have a wee one to care for on top of it.”

“Did you bring her with you?” Ma asks, her voice full of hope.

“No, she’s in Texas.”

“Probably for the best,” Ma says with a nod. “If you come with us to the pub, we’ll feed you full of whatever your heart desires.”