Saoirse picked up her tea, slowly putting it to her mouth, because her hands trembled. The porcelain clattered against the saucer when she set it down. “Some say stupid. But we believed in a cause that, at the time, felt worthwhile.”
Cash’s eyes lifted from the paper he’d been reading to look at her, but they quickly went back to the words in front of him after they did.
“Ronan was an exceptionally smart lad, and when he was passionate about something, he committed himself wholly to the cause. The man who originally brought him in became a hero to him. Patrick was all he could see.”
Cash’s eyes flew up at the name. They must’ve crashed into Saoirse’s because she closed her eyes, nodded, and one tear fell, then another.
Patrick. Patrick. Patrick…who…?
“Patrick and Ronan were as close as twins. We formed a group, and for a time, the cause seemed worth it. Then I got pregnant. You both came along, and it wasn’t as easy as it was before. We would have to run on a moment’s notice. Maybe with one babe, it would’ve been easier, but with two…it became tiring.
“I started not being able to sleep. I was running behind the both of you, and headaches would plague me day and night. I told Ronan that I couldn’t keep up, that I couldn’t do it any longer. Ireland was doing just fine as it was, but I was on the brink of losing my mind. Our family was in trouble.
“My priorities shifted once you two were born, but Ronan was as focused as ever. Patrick—” she opened and closed her hands around the teacup “—started to see the burden. He fell for you boys and had taken a vow when you were born to watch over you both. He considered you blood, as close as two nephews. He tried talking to Ronan, but there was no changing his direction.”
At this, she looked up and met Cash’s eyes. “Ronan started to rebel against us because he didn’t want to hear the truth. He stopped coming home for long stretches, and then he’d make frequent trips to America. The headaches only grew worse, and after going to the doctor, he found that I have an eye disease. Glaucoma. The only thing that helped ease it was cannabis. Patrick had read something and started bringing it to me. We started to grow closer.”
She broke eye contact to look into her tea again, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she saw. Maybe she could read them like my mam.
She took a deep breath and then lifted her eyes and her chin. “Patrick and I fell in love. Your father walked in on us one day after we hadn’t seen him in a month. I suspected, you know, that he had a mistress in America, but the love between us couldn’t be saved at that point. I justified my sins as right because he was committing the same.
“Ronan and Patrick got into an awful fight.” She put a hand to her temple and massaged. “I couldn’t stop it, and for the sake of you boys, Patrick left. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see him again. But after the fight…” She sighed. “The stress. The headache. I thought I was dying. I swore—I swore then and there, I would never touch another drug again. It had gone further than the cannabis. I had become addicted to other drugs. Harder drugs. I’m sure you remember me that way.” A lone tear fell from her eye then, but she swiped it away before it could run down her cheek.
“Ronan took me to the hospital, accusing me of having an overdose while he drove me. He dropped me off, and that…that was the last time I laid eyes on you, until today.” She dug around in the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a photo. She passed it to Killian, who passed it to Cash, who stared at it.
It was a picture of five people—Ronan, Saoirse, Cash, Killian, and the man by the name of Patrick—sitting at a dinner table. The man. Patrick. Father Patrick Flanagan.
“That picture was all that was left when I returned home.” Saoirse pulled out a tissue from her pocket and wiped her nose. “My parents died when I was young. I had no siblings. I had no one to help me find you. I tried. I looked every place I could remember. So many places like this one.” She looked around, and