Page 72 of Hot Irish Halloween

Fucking great. Another year and a half without her full powers.

She didn’t even have Toto to grumble to. He’d gone missing somewhere. Penny was reluctant to make another to replace him. And she missed that little Trixie even more. It was her fault she was totally dogless now. If she’d stayed in Dublin….

Never mind Dublin or dogs. Penny wiped her face of the swift tears that had sprung out of nowhere and went to wash her dishes.

When she entered the living room finally, she said, “I’m ready, Dad. What are you…?” Voice trailing off, she saw what he was looking at.

It was Jack fighting in the cage.

Her heart got lodged somewhere at the base of her throat.

At first, she thought this was it, Jack’s match-up, the one where he might possibly get his head knocked in permanently. The one that might destroy her whole world. Panic gripped her until she saw it wasn’t La Roque he was fighting but someone else, a thick-set Black man she recognized now as Atlas Walters. Sure enough, his name was at the bottom of the screen, along with his stats. It was Jack’s first title fight and Atlas’s last stand. This was the fight that had cemented Jack’s status as Heavyweight Champion of the world.

With a sigh of frustration, she turned to Russell, who was in his lounger with the remote.

“Why are you watching this?” Penny asked, itching to go switch off the flat screen but knowing she couldn’t unless she somehow wrestled the remote from his hand.

On the screen, Jack took a kick to the side and another to the stomach. That eight-pack must have absorbed the blow because he came back immediately with a straight punch. Sweating, his body gleaming and primed, he really was magnificent. Flooded with longing, Penny turned away from the screen.

“Lucky Jack Valentine. I still can’t believe I’d watched this man’s fights for years, and now he’s going to be the father of my grandchild. You sure you didn’t know who he was when you met him?” Russell asked with a squint.

“Apparently, I’m the only person on the planet who didn’t know. Watching people get their heads bashed in was never my thing, for reasons you should understand. And it still isn’t,” she said pointedly. “I’m putting my coat on. You were the one who was in a rush, remember?”

“Alright, alright, Miss Sassy. I’m coming.” Russell got out of the chair and went to get his gear on.

“Wait…one more bathroom run. I’ll be right back,” she said suddenly.

Outside, the skies were still overcast. Rain threatened; she could smell it in the air, along with the scent of the cold waters of Seneca Lake not too far off. Winters here were beautiful, but summer was the absolute best. This baby would be born at the tail end of July or so. Too small to go splashing at the state park’s lakeside beach this year but next year…

Were they going to be here next year? Splashing and having sandwiches packed at home, buying ice cream at the concession stand…all without Jack?

His choice. If none of that happened, it would be because he’d made it impossible by choosing revenge over her.

They reached Ma Mabel’s house in less than ten minutes. The three-story Victorian was as big and pretty as she remembered, although much more weathered on the outside. Its mint-green paint was dirt-flecked and peeling, the front yard was overgrownwith snow-dusted weeds, and the cobblestone path from the sidewalk was broken.

“Careful, now,” Russell cautioned her as they began to walk the slippery, uneven path to the porch. She held onto his arm to steady herself.

The interior wasn’t completely in dire straits. Most of the family had taken turns coming around every week to help out as much as they could when Ma Mabel was still alive, but it had been tough to keep up to her standards. Now the floors and furniture were covered in white sheets thick with dust. Every doorframe was a cobwebbed minefield. Still, it had solid wood doors, and its original hardwood flooring, gorgeous intact stained-glass transom windows, and the banisters on the stairwells were sturdy.

“I loved coming here with Gramma to sit with Ma Mabel after school when you and Mom were working,” Penny said, looking around with eyes that saw how the house had been when she was younger. “She used to give us kids hell when we slid down the rails.”

Russell chuckled. “Just like she gave me hell when I was little and did the same thing. Me, your aunties and uncles and our cousins had a great time here. Never needed to go to some amusement park to pay for fun.”

They toured the kitchen, the formal dining room, several small parlors, the sunroom, and the downstairs half-bath. The backyard was a sight that would make eyes sore, but that could be fixed. Upstairs, there were several bedrooms and a few bathrooms. And finally, the attic which ran the length of the house in one open space.

“This could be the angry teenager bedroom once we clear out the junk,” Russell commented.

Penny laughed. “Please, let me get through the terrible twos first before I contemplate the terrible teens.”

“It all happens faster than you think,” he said with a sigh. “You look back, and you wonder, ‘Where’d my baby go?’ You were a good kid, but you were a lot to handle. Always had your own mind made up and couldn’t tell you a thing to change it.”

She made a face but didn’t respond. They strolled in silence as Penny examined the cracks in the walls up there. Heading back downstairs, she wiped her hands of dust and looked around with her hands on her hips.

“I still love this house. I’d hate to see it go to somebody who isn’t family. But it’s so big. It would be a lot for me and my little soccer star,” she mused, rubbing her belly when the baby kicked. “Or footballer, as I was corrected many, many times in Ireland.”

Russell was gazing at her steadily. “Penny, you know your mother and I would be happy if you decided to come back and settle down here at home. I always knew you’d leave. Knew you had to get away.”

“Dad…” she began softly.

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