I got another easy grin. “Like you can hold out that long.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“Amy?”
“What?” I snapped.
“You’re the best woman I’ve ever met.”
I stared into his beautiful blue eyes, seeing those words reflected there and knowing since the moment I clapped eyes on him, one of the things I wanted most was to see that look aimed at me.
It wasn’t “I love you.”
But it was the next best thing.
“Great, now I wanna make out with you,” I griped under my breath to hide how his words made me feel.
Mickey was again grinning.
“So, Tuesday is on with Auden and Olympia?” he asked a question he knew the answer to but I knew he asked it to change the subject.
I nodded as I moved into him, excited and anxious about this first meeting, but hoping, my kids being mine, they’d see Mickey. They’d see how he was with me. They’d see he made me happy. And it would all go great.
“Lookin’ forward to it, Amy.”
That was when I smiled up at him but while doing it, I felt a shiver slide up my neck.
I looked to the side and saw Cillian edging up the line with the other boys being weighed. His neck was twisted. His eyes on his dad and me.
He looked reflective.
I braced and did it further when he caught me looking at him. But then he waved a little man’s version of a big man wave, grinned and turned away.
Not embarrassed to wave at me in public.
Not turning sullen at his dad touching me, talking to me, laughing with me.
Bragging to his friend I was his dad’s girlfriend.
This meant, if Cillian had a stamp, he could press it into ink, come to me and stamp me approved.
And this made me happy.
Very, very happy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rough Night
“Pip, light the candles, sweets, would you?” I called and right on the heels of that, “Auden, do me a favor. Pull up Pandora. A good station, down low, nothing techno or anything like that. Dinner music.” And right on the heels of that, “Pip, when you’re done, set the bar. Placements. Plates. Cutlery. Water glasses.” And on the heels of that, “Ouch!” that last because I’d burned my finger on the chicken.
“Chill, Mom,” Pippa said quietly and I looked to her to see her in the drawer where she could get the long handled lighter. She was looking at me. “It’s gonna be cool. We’re gonna like him.”
She then grabbed the lighter, shut the drawer and took off to light the candles.
Needless to say, it was the next Tuesday and Mickey was going to be over imminently.
Also needless to say, I had lost all excitement about this meeting and was a complete and total wreck.
For the past week, life had been good with Mickey. I’d had dinner and then hung out at his place three times when the kids were still with him and we’d spent all day Saturday together, dinking around at the shops at Mills jetty then going out for dinner.
Cillian had definitely approved me. He was relaxed, at ease, open to being what boys his age were: part goofball, part young man.
Alarmingly, Ash was getting worse. Her hair definitely had not been washed in, my guess, several days. And I’d realized that I’d never really noticed her clothes, because they weren’t noticeable. However, with the hair thing, taking in her full appearance, I noted them along with the fact that her hair was not only not washed, it needed a cut, she didn’t put on makeup and her clothes were bulky and oversized, not quite hiding the fact that she was putting on weight.
Unlike my mother, I was not of the opinion that every female should be stick thin, wear makeup and spend huge chunks of time on their appearance, unless they enjoyed doing that kind of thing.
But Ash’s timid quietness moving to awkward near-silence and the total deterioration of her appearance at her age was alarming.
Mickey had a lot on his plate but I felt it was too important not to mention. Therefore, when we’d met at the diner for dinner the night before, I’d brought it up.
It had not escaped him. He was extremely concerned. He also was a man and had no idea what to do. Further, he shared that he’d brought this up with Rhiannon some time ago and she didn’t agree there seemed to be an issue, but she did have a conversation with Aisling and declared all was well.
As Mickey did not agree with Rhiannon’s assessment, he’d shared with me that over the past few weeks he’d tried to broach the subject with Aisling. He’d since backed off due to the fear that his efforts were making her retreat further and get worse.
Clearly all was not well. But now, Mickey and Rhiannon didn’t have the relationship where he could discuss this with her so her mother could step in and as her father, he was at a loss of how to broach it.
“Next time she’s with me, I’ll try one more time. See what I can do. That doesn’t go well, I gotta ask you, baby, if you’ll step in,” he’d said.
I didn’t feel I was at a place with Ash where I could do this. We’d had together time and we’d done some bonding making dinner weeks before, but we weren’t close and in all the time I’d spent with Mickey’s family since we officially got together, we didn’t get any closer. This was mostly because whenever I was over, she had dinner with us but then would disappear in her room and I’d only get a, “Later, Amy!” shouted back when Mickey shouted that I was leaving.
This in itself was alarming. She hadn’t shared with me in any open way or even in girl code that she liked me with her father. But still, in the beginning, even if she didn’t make it plain, she’d communicated that to me.
Also in the beginning, even before Mickey and I got together officially, Aisling seemed to settle in to the shifting Donovan family unit, a unit that included me. We’d been connecting, gradually, but that had been the path we were on.
Now there was nothing.
But I didn’t care. If the father-daughter talk didn’t go well, I was going in.
Thus I’d replied, “Whatever you need.”
Mickey didn’t hide his relief, which told me precisely how concerned he was about the situation.
However, that conversation happened last night.
Right then, I had other things on my mind.
Things that included the fact that I’d just gotten my kids back and now I was introducing Mickey into the mix.
The way the current mix was didn’t seem volatile and after the last few years, my mother’s antennae to something like that was tuned to extremes.