Page 32 of Snowed In
“She might as well be.”
“And yet, she’s not. Listen, I wanted to—”
“I know she’s not the easiest woman to get along with,” Mam continues. “But you should have been there.”
“It was a Tuesday afternoon,” I remind her. “I was working.”
“You could have taken some time off.”
“For tea with my non-aunt Alma, who was probably a bitch the whole time?”
“Christian.”
“I’m just reading between the lines here.”
“It’s not like I was over the moon to be spending an afternoon with her myself. I know her knee has been troubling her, but I think the woman needs someone to have a strong word with—”
“I’m bringing someone home for Christmas.”
Silence. Surprised, hopeful silence. “What’s that?” she asks.
“My new girlfriend,” I say, bookmarking a few bakeries near Megan’s house. “I’d like to bring her over for Christmas if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course it is,” Mam says, and though she tries her best to sound nonchalant, I can hear the delight in her voice. The kind of delight that is so rarely directed at me. “Must be serious.”
“Her name’s Megan.”
“Megan!” You’d swear she’d never heard a more beautiful name in her life. “And she’s from Dublin?”
“Actually, she’s not.” I switch tabs, zooming in on some cupcakes. “She’s from home. It’s Megan O’Sullivan. From school.”
This time her pause is more strained. “Emily’s daughter?”
“That’s the one.”
“I thought she moved to Canada.”
“She didn’t. She’s here.”
“You’redatingMegan O’Sullivan?”
We’re saying her name so much it’s starting to lose all meaning.
“Is that okay?”
“Yes, it’s just…” She hesitates. “Well, you know how it is. Small towns. People talk.”
I frown at that. Megan said she didn’t leave on the best terms with everyone, but still.
“That was years ago, Mam.”
“No, I know,” she says hurriedly. “I just—”
“You’ll like her.”
“OfcourseI will if she’s caught your eye.” She’s on the back foot now, but I’m not convinced.
“Would you let Dad and the others know? I want to make this as easy as possible for her. She hasn’t been home in a while.”
