Page 50 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

My sister hated village gossip and had told me not to listen to that shite, either. I’d been the sensitive one, while Maggie had been the strong one.

I remembered how she’d joked while we sat here a few months before she died.

"I want to rest far enough away that I can’t hear Mrs. O’Leary muttering over the fence," she teased, rolling her eyes at some scandalous rumor of the week.

I sat on the dewey grass, my coat keeping the damp away. “Hi, Maggie. It’s been a while.”

The air felt heavy to me—laden with memories but, surprisingly, not in a bad way. It had been eighteen months since she left me. Had I finally stopped grieving? I knew I’d never stop missing her. There was a Maggie-size hole in my heart that would never fill up, never heal.

“I slept with the yank,” I told her. “It was good sex. On a scale of one to ten, it was a twelve.”

Maggie would always ask where I was on a scale of one to ten, no matter what I said.

“I’m tired.”

“How much on a scale of one to ten?”

“I’m so hungry.”

“How much on a scale of one to ten?”

“I’ve made a right mess of things.” I pushed away a couple of leaves that were close to the headstone. “You’d say, feck no, Dee, you’re just livin’ your life the best way you can.”

I stared at the headstone, my chest tightening as my words caught in my throat.

“Jax is not like Cillian. I think you’d like him. Though he’s got as much money if not more than that arsehole.”

I chuckled, imagining Maggie’s response.“He’s a twelve in the sack, and he’s rich. Lass, what the feck are you whining about?”

“He’s too charming for his own good, and you can’t really trust a man with dimples, can you?” I picked up a pebble and played with it. “He’s good, Maggie. Good in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. And he cares.”

“So, what’s the problem, Dee?”

I bit my lip, staring down at the grass beneath my knees. “I’m scared that he’s going to break my heart because…I went ahead and fell the feck in love with him.”

The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above me, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the cool air sting my cheeks.

“I thought the sex would be, you know, a tumble, and that’s that.Butit wasn’t. It was…you’re going to think I’m getting sappy in my old age, Maggie, but swear to God, it was almost reverent and intimate and….”

I plucked some fresh grass and rubbed it between my fingers.

“He sees me. When I’m sad or angry, he makes me laugh. When I need him not to fight my battles, he stays put but is right by my side in case I need him. He’s…Lord, Maggie, he’s what I’d want in a man if I could conjure him up.”

“So, I’ll ask again, what’s the problem, Dee?”

My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were already threatening to fall. “It’s easier to keep people out, isn’t it? To stay in control. Because when you let someone in, you lose that control. You open yourself up to being hurt, to being left behind. And I can’t….” My voice cracked, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to hold myself together.

“I can’t lose someone else.”

I smiled when I thought about how my sister would respond to my little pity party. “Stop it, Dee, and get your tits out, chin up, and grow some feckin balls.”

I looked up at the headstone again, my vision blurry with unshed tears. “I miss you, Maggie. Every day. And I don’t know how to do this without you. I don’t know how to trust someone like Jax without waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

The wind brushed against my face, soft and cool, and I let out a shaky breath.

“I wish you were here,” I sobbed softly. “I wish you could tell me what to do because I’m tired of thinking for myself.”

I fell silent, staring at the headstone and waiting for an answer that I knew wouldn’t come.

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