Page 13 of Just Say Yes
‘And?’
‘And I asked her if she could trace Peyton’s family.’
‘Because you wanted to prove you were right?’
‘No, because I thought getting my best friend’s fiancée a family tree, which traced her roots back to Ireland, would be a nice thing to do.’
It really was and, for a moment, I was taken aback.
‘It seems that I’ve given you the impression that I’m not the kind of person who does nice things.’
I opened my mouth to try and find a tactful way of saying, ‘Well, I’ve had my doubts,’ and closed it again when I couldn’t. In the outer reaches of the puddle of light cast by a streetlamp, I saw the corners of Lorcan’s mouth tilt upwards.
‘I thought so.’
‘I never said that.’
‘No,’ he said, still smiling. ‘But your silence said so much more.’
I began to try and wriggle out of it, but he waved a large hand. ‘Seriously, don’t bother. I really don’t give two figs about what most people think about me. If I don’t know them, or I don’t care about them, their opinion of me isn’t generally something I worry about.’
That told me, then.
‘So what happened?’
‘My sister spent plenty of her own time putting together a tree for Peyton, and traced her ancestors back pretty far, but there’s no link at all to Ireland. I mean, apart from the indigenous peoples, everyone in America is an immigrant if you go back far enough, so her family tree does go back to Europe, but no one in her lineage sailed from what they like to call The Old Country.’
‘Does Peyton know this? That your sister did all this work?’
‘No.’
I took a step back. ‘What?’
‘I didn’t tell her.’
‘So you have her whole ancestral history there and you haven’t given it to her?’
‘Nope.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘You may.’
I let out a sigh. ‘Lorcan, why haven’t you given the information to Peyton?’
‘Because it’s not what she wants to hear.’
‘I don’t understand. She wants to trace her lineage – which is something you’ve kindly had done for her. Why would you not give that to her?’
‘Because she’s not only in love with my best friend, she’s in love with the idea of Irish blood running in her veins. If I gave her those documents, it would prove that she doesn’t.’
‘But you still made the dig about her not having that ancestry – and you know she doesn’t.’
‘Yeah, I know. It winds her up. I know I shouldn’t but I’ve got three sisters so it comes naturally. But I did try and,’ he glanced at me, ‘tactfully bring it up a couple of time but she just ignores me, preferring to think it’s because I’m somehow anti her having Irish descendants.’
‘Are you?’
‘No, of course not. I couldn’t care less. But at least this way she gets to hold onto the illusion that she does have those roots rather than being told flat out she doesn’t. It makes her happy to believe that, so…’ He shrugged broad shoulders before leaning one against a rough wall of the sixteenth-century pub next to the restaurant.
