Page 139 of Redeeming 6

“Oh yes.” Mam nodded. “You spent four years of your youth settling for comfortable with a boy you had nothing in common with, while your heart never once wandered from a boy who made your whole face light up when he walked in the room.” A melancholy sigh escaped her. “I never saw you have that kind of reaction when you were with Paul. Your eyes didn’t widen when he looked at you, and your cheeks never blushed when he winked. You used to look almost despondent when he called over to see you.”

“Three and a half years,” I reeled off with a wince. “I know that Paul was steady, Mam, and he comes from money and has a big future ahead of him, but I was never happy with him.”

“If you want money, you can make that for yourself,” Mam replied. “You don’t need a man to do that for you.”

“I know and I completely agree,” I was quick to say. “But Casey thought I was crazy for letting him go. I mean, she’s Team Joey now, but for a while there, she was seriously questioning my judgment.”

“You know as well as I do what kind of a home Casey comes from,” Mam replied gently. “You know what her mother is like, Aoife. You’ve seen what that woman has exposed her daughter to down through the years. The kind of men she’s traipsed through their front door.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, shuddering at the memory.

“And you also know how strapped for cash they are in that little flat over in Elk’s Terrace,” Mam continued. “I can only presume that when Casey saw you throw away a boy with a solid future for a boy with an unwritten one, she panicked on your behalf.”

“Paul was no catch of the day,” I muttered. “And we’re not exactly flush with cash ourselves, Mam.”

“We might not have money, Aoife, but we’ve always had each other,” Mam explained. “We’ve always had our family unit, and that’s a form of stability and comfort that we both know young Casey has never had.”

Or Joey.

“I’m lucky to have you, Mam.”

She arched a brow.

“What?” I laughed. “I was being sincere.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll mean that even more in six months’ time.” She chuckled. “When there’s a baby crying the house down and you’re up to your elbows in poo and vomit, screaming for your mother to come get her grandchild.” Clearly amused with herself, she added, “At least your partner in crime has experience with newborns, because you’ve never held a baby in your life.”

“I’ve held Sean.”

“Sean’s three.”

“He was only two when I first held him.”

“There’s a big difference between a two-year-old that you can hand back and a defenseless newborn baby depending entirely on you to meet every one of his needs.”

“Mam.”

“He or she will need you to feed them, burp them, change them, clothe them, comfort them, love them, soothe them…all of it and more. He or she will even depend on you to clear their airways with a tiny nasal aspirator when they get a cold because he or she won’t be able to do that for themselves. This little baby will be completely reliant on his or her mother for survival. And that’s just the newborn stage, which believe it or not, my darling girl, is the easiest stage of motherhood.”

“Please stop,” I begged, feeling dizzy at the thought. “I’m so unbelievably terrified of what’s coming that I’m surprised I can function.”

“You can do this,” she assured me. “You are going to be a good mother.”

“I’m going to be a disaster,” I mumbled glumly. “I can barely cook French toast.”

“Because you’re a spoilt princess who’s used to having everything done for her.” Mam laughed. “But we’ll soon get you up to speed, pet. By the time my grandchild arrives, you’ll be cooking up a storm and ready to take on the world.”

“Don’t ever leave me, okay?” I strangled out. “I might be on the verge of becoming a mam, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll stop needing mine.”

“You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Mam laughed with a wink. “Whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not moving out,” I warned her, holding up a shaky finger. “I’m never leaving home, Mam. I’m staying put where there’s a veteran of motherhood in residence—and a veteran of the ironing board.”

Mam laughed again. “That’s another thing I’ll have to teach you.”

“I will never iron.”

“You won’t have a choice.”

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