Colleen moved closer to him, allowing the comfort and ignoring the lying pinging messages inside, the long-held false belief that told her it was safer to run, to turn away.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.

Dylan Thomas, “And Death Shall Have No Dominion”

FOUR DAYS UNTIL THE PARTY . . .

She swept her nieces away to a lunchtime matinee the next day. Still, not one of the Donohue siblings had discussed what their dad had told them. Instead they all seemed to glance sideways at each other, waiting for one or the other to speak about it first. There were other things to attend to, other concerns. For now, Colleen was babysitting her nieces while Hallie met with a divorce attorney.

Movie theaters always made time stand still for Colleen. The hushed voices and soft seats, the bucket of popcorn with gooey butter, or what passed as butter, and the music of the opening credits enveloping the space. This old theater had been here when she was a child and then had closed down for a while, but had reopened to great fanfare during the premiere of a movie that had been filmed in Watersend. Colleen had missed all the action, but Shane had sent pictures—one more hint that she was missing all the fun at home. Colleen was glad it was open and had air-conditioning and that she could try to be an aunt to her nieces.

It had only been the evening before when Colleen had learned about her Irish mother, when the world had tilted on its Donohue axis, and Colleen still hadn’t found her balance. She sat between her nieces.

“What are you wearing to Grandy’s party?” Rosie asked.

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t even thought about it.”

Sadie’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “We decided a long, long time ago. We’re wearing sister dresses. They’re green with white bows and we’re both going to braid our hair.”

“Then maybe I’ll get a green dress,” Colleen said. “And a white bow. But you know it’s a secret, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Sadie kicked her feet back and forth an inch above the sticky floor. “We know how to keep a secret. Don’t we, Rosie?”

“Yes, we do. Like we never told you that Mom said not to tell you that she cries because she misses you. We kept that a secret.”

“Rosie!” Sadie kicked her sister. “You just told her.”

“Oh.” Rosie dropped her face into a prayerful bow. “I’m so bad. Don’t tell Mom, please.”

“You aren’t bad.” Colleen put her arm around Rosie and drew her close. “I won’t say a word. And I cannot wait to see your green dress.”

“And I can’t wait to see yours.” Rosie balanced the popcorn bucket on her lap, attempting to keep it from her sister.