Page 124 of Holiday Romance
He laughs at that. “Sorry about dinner,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “Hannah’s a romantic.”
“And you?”
“Just a younger brother.” He tugs his hood up, burrowing into it against the cold. “But it’s a thing now, is it?”
“It’s new.”
“New’s not a bad way to end the year,” he says, his tone kinder. “Even if he’s always had terrible timing.”
I only smile, a little confused.
“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?” he asks.
“Like…”
“Stay in the States, back to Dublin?”
“Ah.” The emigrant chat. “I have no plans to move back to Ireland. Chicago’s felt like home for a while now.”
“Good for you,” he says. “Long-distance though. That’s always looked hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, not that it can’t work,” he adds, and I freeze, my impromptu breakfast churning in my stomach. Christian hurries on, mistaking my silence for annoyance. “You’ll be grand.” A quick smile. “Has Andrew found an apartment yet? He never believes me when I tell him how Dublin is for renters. I think he has it in his head that he’ll just come home and walk into a place.”
I pull my hair into a halfhearted bun, my now clammy hands moving automatically as I tug the strands back again and again and again. “I’m sure he’ll find something,” I say. The words sound faint, as though spoken by someone else.
“Not in time though. When does the new job start? March?”
March?March?“I can’t remember.”
“Maybe you could get him to look at those places I sent on? He’ll need to put his name down just to get a viewing. And tell him not to come crying to me when—”
Both of us flinch when the door flies open, Christian hiding the cigarette behind his back on instinct. Andrew steps out, taking in the scene before turning an accusing eye toward his brother.
“What are you doing out here?”
Christian shrugs. “Stealing your girl.”
“Well, can you steal her inside? Preferably next to the radiator?” Andrew motions me back into the kitchen and I follow numbly. “And put that out before Mam catches you,” he says to Christian. “What are you? Fifteen?”
Christian steps inside a second later, rubbing his hands together as Andrew turns on more lights. “They think it’s going to snow today,” he says, glancing out the window.
“They always say it’s going to snow,” Andrew says. “It will be on the mountains if there’s anything.” His eyes dart toward me and he frowns, shrugging the sweatshirt from his body and passing it to me. I put it on automatically, just so I have something to do other than look at him.
He’s moving back to Ireland? He’s moving back to Ireland and he didn’t tell me?
“I’m going to finish packing,” Christian says. “Take it easy, Molly.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he disappears back up the stairs.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asks when he’s gone.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I move around the counter, wishing he hadn’t interrupted us and that I’d asked Christian what was going on.
Andrew just grins at me. “What am I supposed to think, waking up to an empty bed?”
