Page 52 of Steadfast

“He was Irish,” Ronan said as he climbed into his spot. “Didn’t Dad sound like that?”

“He did,” Cian said, standing by his door while he waited for me to get in my seat.

“It was good luck that they saw us, right?” Ronan chattered on.

Cian, Saoirse, and I were quiet. Hearing Patrick’s accent hit a little different for the three of us. A million memories of my dad played through my mind as I started the car again. I almost didn’t notice the sound of the motorcycles roaring to life behind us.

I pulled out onto the road, and Cian quietly reminded me where to turn.

The group of bikes turned in the opposite direction.

“Sign of good luck, you think?” Cian asked me softly, turning to look at them over his shoulder.

“If it was, I’ll take it,” I replied. “Now where am I going?”

Fifteen minutes later, we were on a long gravel driveway, cringing with every pothole and bump we ran over, praying that we didn’t get another flat.

“Shit,” Cian said, leaning forward to look through the windshield. “It’s a fucking RV.”

“There’s nowhere to pull over,” I replied anxiously, looking for anywhere that I could pull my car to the side. The driveway would never fit the two vehicles side by side and there was no way I’d be able to back up all the way to the road.

“Why isn’t it moving?” Cian asked in confusion as the motorhome just kept coming at us.

“Maybe they know where the road gets wide enough,” I said, still rolling forward. “You’re sure this is the right road?”

“This is the street she wrote on the birthday card,” he replied. “I double-checked it. It’s the right place.”

I just kept driving forward because I didn’t really know what else to do, until eventually I had to come to a stop because the RV was right in front of us, blocking the entire driveway.

I looked up, leaning forward next to Cian so I could see the driver.

Aunt Ashley was staring at us, her eyes and mouth both wide with surprise.

“It’s the right place,” Cian breathed with relief. “Thank the good Lord.”

CHAPTER 8

Aoife

“Stay here,” Iordered as I put the car in park.

“But we’re here,” Ronan whined.

“We’ll be right back,” Cian told him, turning to look at him.

“Why does Cian get to go?” Ronan snapped.

There was only three and a half years between the two of them, but there may as well have been twenty when you factored in their personalities and levels of responsibility. I always wondered if Ronan would finally see it once he was an adult or if he’d always just remember that Cian got to do all the things he wasn’t allowed to. I hoped that someday he’d realize that he got the better side of that deal, being encouraged to stay young while Cian had to grow up way too fast.

“Hopefully the good luck holds,” Cian said as we climbed out of the car.

Aunt Ashley was already standing outside her motorhome, hands on her hips.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Aunt Ashley called, hurrying toward us. “Is your mom with you?”

I shook my head slowly as we all converged at the hood of my car. I hadn’t thought this part through.

“She’s dead,” Cian said flatly.

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