She’d learn eventually it’s much better to preemptively numb oneself against disappointment.
“You’ll take me shopping even if I’m not good.” Eilish laughed at me, tilting her head to the side as she studied my face. “You can’t help yourself, especially when you see me in mismatched shades of navy.”
She was right, of course. But she was also wrong. I couldn’t help but take her shopping because seeing her happy inexplicably made me happy. Yet she was also wrong, because I used her mismatched outfits as an excuse. I’d never tell her that. It was part of the game we played.
She pretended she couldn’t coordinate her outfits and I pretended it drove me to distraction. I wasn’t in so much denial to realize I needed Eilish quite a bit more than she needed me.
“Thursday. Ten o’clock. We’ll have tea after, if you’re fit to be seen.” I kept my tone dry and superior, because doing so made her laugh harder.
“Jesus, Sean. You sound like such a snob.”
“Thank you, what a lovely compliment.”
This made her snort and smack my shoulder with the flat of her palm. “Get out of here before you’re caught making me laugh. They’ll never forgive you for being cheerful.”
I smiled down at my cousin, wishing again she’d come with me. Having her around during the summer, someone clever to talk to, someone with no expectations, trustworthy—someone good—was the highlight of my year. I knew her reasoning for staying within these cold walls during the summer months, but for her sake, as well as for my own selfish purposes, I wished she’d change her mind.
Before I could suggest—again—that she move in with me for the summer, my aunt called, “Eilish? Come here. It’s time to read my letters.”
I sighed, watching Eilish’s profile as she responded, “Coming, Mother. I’m just seeing Sean off.”
“He can find the door on his own. I need you,” came her reply.
Eilish smiled a small, pleased smile. And my chest ached at her expression. The words I need you still had an effect on my cousin, though they filled me with dread.
Because my aunt needed people until she didn’t. Then she’d cast them away. I recognized the manipulation, had hardened myself against it. Eilish had not.
At least, not yet.
Chapter Three
@LucyFitz Always trust in the kindness of strangers…except when it comes in the form of a glass of sauvignon blanc you haven’t seen them pour.
@RonanFitz to @LucyFitz What’s going on?! Is some creep offering to buy you drinks?
@LucyFitz to @RonanFitz Chillax. It’s supposed to be humorous.
@RonanFitz to @LucyFitz Well I don’t find the concept of messing with my sister funny.
@Anniecat to @LucyFitz I apologize for your brother.
Lucy
“Do you want anything from the shop?” definitely ranked as one of my top three favorite sentences of all time. It’s right up there with, “School’s been cancelled because of the weather” and “Would you like me to go down on you first?”
Admittedly, I’d only been asked the third one twice, and both instances were quite some time ago.
When we were kids, Ronan always used to ask me if I wanted anything from the shop, and my answer was always the same: a can of Coke, a bar of chocolate, and a packet of crisps. We used to call it the Triple C. Shut up. It wasn’t lame.
These days I still wanted things from the shop. Things I hadn’t paid for.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t so much the things, but the feeling that taking things gave me. I was addicted to that feeling though a large part of me hated it.
It was the evening after the party and my hangover had almost faded. I’d taken the DART into town to meet up with an old friend for coffee. We’d parted ways a half hour ago and I was currently browsing the cosmetics section of Brown Thomas, a glamorous blonde in an all-black ensemble watching me like a hawk.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m good, just looking,” I answered, returning the friendly gesture.
I couldn’t allow myself to be annoyed with her. She was only doing her job. I was the one in the wrong. My fingers itched with the need to take, as I remembered Mam berating me when I got home last night. I’d been rude enough to avoid meeting her friend’s very eligible son, and behavior like that was sacrilege to Jackie Fitzpatrick.
Your looks, such as they are, aren’t going to last forever, Lucy. Before you know it you’ll be forty and still on the shelf.
I had to bite back the urge to respond with some equally horrible comment, refusing to sink to her level. I was already allowing myself to become a secret thief. I wouldn’t lower myself to being mean on top of it.