Page 30 of Takedown

“Who was that?” I ask, pointing at the glove compartment. “The New York number again?”

His lips thin out as if he just tasted something sour, then he shakes his head and smiles at me. “My mom has lived here since we came back from Ireland. We lived there for a few years when I was a kid. Uncle Finn moved in with her after moving to the US about three years ago. His wife passed away suddenly, and they never had kids. He and my mom have always been very close, so she was happy to have him. I moved out because it was time and Uncle Finn is a little nutty. You’ll see.” He kills the engine, and when he reaches for his car door, I put my gloved hand on his thigh, stopping him.

“You lived with your mom until you moved into your apartment?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head by the admission. I can’t help the small laugh that escapes.

“This country is the only one where kids are encouraged to move out at eighteen. Yes, I lived here with her.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. He opens the door, hops out, walks around to my side, and helps me out. His truck is huge, and he practically has to lift me out.

“I should have brought something. I should have baked a pie.”

“Do you know how to bake a pie, Mel?” He holds on to my arm as we maneuver over the icy driveway and walkway.

“It’s just bad manners to show up empty handed.” I slow my steps and so does Adam. The closer we get to the front door , the slower I walk until I eventually come to a complete stop. I look at the house and then turn my head towards Adam’s truck. He drops his hand from my elbow and cups my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I’ve never gone this far before, Adam.” I bite down on my lower lip just as a cold, angry gust of wind hits, pushing my hair into my face. I curse myself for not putting on a hat. Adam’s big hands brush my hair back in place, but his eyes never leave mine. He doesn’t need to speak, but I know what he’s asking. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I never let myself get close enough to a man where he would want me to meet his mother, and what if—” The words die on my tongue before I can force myself to finish the thought.

“Well, I’m not some man. I’m your husband, and my mom and I are very close.” That’s what I’m afraid of. I lower my eyes from his, and he surprises me by pulling me into his arms and shielding me from the harsh January winds. “Relax.” He tightens his arms around me, and despite the frigid temperature, I feel safe and warm. “My ma is about the nicest woman you will ever meet. She’s never met someone she didn’t like.” He pulls back and strokes my face again. “I promise you I would never willingly bring you around anyone who wouldn’t love you. Trust me?” His blue eyes are hypnotizing, and I nod. He drops my face, grabs my hand and we walk up the steps.

He doesn’t knock or ring the bell. The second he opens the door, I’m greeted with the smell of home cooking and the blasting sound of Sunday football on the TV.

“Ma!” he yells as he helps me with my coat. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the outfit I picked. It’s plain black pants and a matching black v-neck sweater. Now I wish I didn’t dress like I was going to a funeral.

The entryway to the house is huge, with a long hallway leading into a formal living room. The walls are filled with pictures of Adam from baby to adult. There’s even one of him at around the age of six, smiling wide with his two front teeth missing. I can’t help my laugh as I trace my finger on his cute little chubby face. The next one is when he’s about thirteen, and he has a mouth full of braces and an unruly mop of brown hair.

“I wouldn’t let her cut it,” he says, surprising me by wrapping his long arms around me. As if I have no choice, I lean into his massive frame. “I was going to be a long-haired drummer in a rock band,” he whispers against my ear, sending chills down my body.

“Did you?”

“Nope.” He plants a soft kiss on my jawline.

“Why not?”

“Two reasons. I suck at playing the drums and there was a lice outbreak in my school.”

“Ew!” I pull out of his arms and turn to face him. We both burst into laughter and some of the tension leaves my body. The sound of the TV gets louder, but I still hear someone’s loud laughter.

I turn in time to see Adam’s mother running down the hall. She’s a tall, slender woman, and as soon as Adam sees her, he lets me go. She runs into his arms, and he lifts her off her feet as she peppers his face with kisses.

“My wee boy,” she says once he finally puts her down. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she turns to me. Unlike Adam’s piercing blue eyes, hers are a warm brown framed by strawberry blonde hair.

She leaves her son’s side and walks to me. Like a deer in headlights, I stand there, unable to speak. Adam puts an arm around my waist.

“And who do we have here?” She reaches for my face, and her warm hands touch my skin. Her eyes are welcoming and the smile on her face is like a hug from a good friend. “Is this the surprise?” Her smile widens when she looks from me to her son.

“Molly!” someone yells. “Molly, when is Adam getting here? I need him to explain this American football to me. I don’t get it.”

Molly sighs, turns, and says, “He’s already here and he has a pretty girl with him. If you’d put on your hearing aid you would have heard him.” I practically stumble back at the sound of her loud voice. Adam just laughs.

“Finn is practically deaf but refuses to admit it,” he whispers in my ear. Molly touches my cheek again before she pulls me into a hug.

“Ma, this is Melanie. Mel, this is my ma, Molly Flynn.”

“What a pretty name.” She hugs me again and squeezes me tight this time.

“And…she’s my wife.” All the air leaves the room when Adam makes that announcement. I hold my breath, waiting for her to ask him if he lost his damn mind and to warn him that he’s made a terrible mistake, but to my surprise, she doesn’t do any of that.

She puts both hands to her mouth, and her brown eyes pool with unshed tears. She lets out an excited gasp and pulls us both into her arms. When she lets us go, she starts to scream. Finn, I assume, runs down the hall. He’s a portly man with a round gut, and from several feet away, I can tell he’s at least a couple of inches shorter than his sister.

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