When Sully and I walked into the room, the children fell silent, and Sully froze—a rabbit trapped in the headlights. The three of them looked at one another, staring and I began to wonder if this wasn’t just a huge mistake. Connor was the first to look away. Slowly, he picked up a cut-out picture of a soccer player and began to rub his glue stick over the back of it; the tips of his ears were practically glowing, but his cheeks were pale, pale, white, like he was in shock.
“Whoa,” Amie breathed. She looked at me, sweet little face full of confusion, as if checking in with me—is this really happening? “You look just like my daddy,” she whispered. I’d warned them both that Sully was more than just a little bit like Ronan, that he was exactly like Ronan, but Amie couldn’t be blamed for being surprised now. The resemblance was unnatural.
Sully shifted from one foot to another, clearing his throat. I’d never seen him so out of sorts. “Yeah, well. People say that a lot,” he replied. “It must be weird for you, huh?”
Amie nodded gravely. “It’s really weird.”
“I get that. I’m sorry…I haven’t come to see you before.”
Amie nodded. “Feelya said you were sad, so it’s okay. Are you still sad now?”
“I think I might be a little bit,” he said. “But I’m getting better.”
Was he telling the truth? Was he getting better? Did he hate Ronan a little less every day, and miss him a little bit more? It was so hard to tell with him. As soon as anyone mentioned Ronan’s name, it was as though a heavy, metal roller shutter was slamming down in front of him. He didn’t want to talk about him. He didn’t want to reminisce. As far as I could tell, he didn’t even want to think about the fact that he had a twin a lot of the time, which made it difficult to talk freely about the situation we were in now. Sully glanced around the kitchen awkwardly. I could tell that he didn’t really know what to do with himself, which made me unreasonably proud. This was such a huge step for him.
He paced slowly toward the table and stopped in front of Connor. “What are you making, man?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Connor replied. “A picture of under the sea?”
Sully tipped his head to the side, trying to take a better look. Connor leaned over his picture, hiding it from view, though. “Hey, that’s okay. Artists don’t like sharing their work until they’re finished, right? I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Connor glanced quickly up at him and shrugged. “I’m not an artist. I’m just a kid.”
“Well, you’re way better at art than I am, either way.” Sully shot me an anxious sideways look. He clearly thought he was drowning, making zero headway with the little boy; he didn’t realize just how amazing it was that Connor was interacting with him at all, though.
“Are you staying here for lunch with us?” Amie asked, clambering up so that she was standing on the seat of her chair, glue spatula in one hand and a dog-eared picture of Victoria Beckham in the other.
Again, Sully looked at me, worry lines forming on his face. “Ahhh, I’m not sure. I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Maybe Sully will stay, depending on a few things,” I told her.
“What few things?”
“Well, depending on if you guys all like each other and want to hang out, I suppose.”
“I like him,” she said. “And I like Connor, and I like you. I think we should spend all day together.”
“That’s very nice of you, Amie, but we’ll just play it by ear, though, okay?”
She accepted this with a tiny frown on her face, and didn’t push the matter further. “You can sit here,” she said, patting the table across from her. “Would you like some beers?”
Her offer surprised me since we didn’t have any beers, and I hadn’t had any in front of her. Ever. Maybe Ronan used to have a drink or two when he got home from work or something. “That’s all right, Amie. It’s ten fifteen in the morning. It’s a little early to be drinking beer,” Sully said, smiling.
“Daddy used to like drinking beers,” she replied. “Daddy had beer for breakfast all the time.”
Ronan used to drink beer for breakfast? Jeez. He’s lost his wife. He’d been fucked up enough to take his own life. The fact that he was knocking back a beer or two before heading out to work was pretty sad, though.
Sully looked like he was about to snatch up his jacket in the hallway and bolt out of the place, never to return, so I grabbed him by the hand and sat down at the table, sealing the deal. No escaping now. Normally Connor would have been surly and snappy if he found himself in a situation he couldn’t control. He didn’t seem that way today, though. He seemed too stunned to be anything but silent.