Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk #3) - Samantha Young Page 0,51
not to acknowledge that, I’m sorry.”
While we laughed, Darragh smacked Dermot across the head. “For the fortieth time, watch your language.”
Bailey bumped my shoulder with hers and whispered, “I love your family.”
Warmth spread across my chest. I did too. And my family had, unsurprisingly, taken to Bailey. The only one who had been a little standoffish with Bails was Davina. Astrid cornered me and explained that it was hard for my big sister to see how close I was with Bailey when she’d missed out on so much of my life.
Thankfully, Davina warmed up a little more as the days wore on.
“I called Rosie’s in Somerville. They’ve reserved a table for us tomorrow night,” Davina said. Rosie’s was a bar my dad and Darragh liked. It served pub grub and had big TVs all along the walls that continually played sports. It was relaxed, the food was good, they allowed the boys in, and we couldn’t think of a better place for a family night out before I went back to Hartwell.
“And then Sunday Steak at mine on your last night.” Dad smiled, but I could see the shadow of melancholy in his eyes. I knew it was because he didn’t want me to leave. He and Dermot had gotten the entire weekend off work to spend it with me before I returned to Hartwell. It meant a lot to me.
I reached across the table and curled my hand over his. “I’ll be back at Christmas.”
He nodded and grinned, his dimple popping out. “I can’t wait, Bluebell.”
Later, after Davina and Astrid had gone home and Krista was putting the boys to bed, I helped Darragh load the dishwasher while Bailey, Dad, and Dermot stood around the kitchen drinking coffee and joking around.
“Hey, I don’t want to spoil the mood or anything,” Dermot said, sounding serious, “but, um, you should know I convinced Mom to go see a therapist.”
I whirled around from stacking the dishes. “Seriously?” I could feel Bailey’s concerned gaze, but mine automatically went to my dad.
He stared at the floor, pensive.
“Yeah,” Dermot replied. “I don’t know what will come of it, but I thought you should know.”
I nodded. Did I still care?
Yes, I did.
I didn’t want my mom to lose everything, despite her feelings toward me. Especially now I understood where some of those feelings came from.
“Dad?” Dermot asked, and my dad’s eyes flew to his. “I’m not trying to get in the middle of you two with this. It’s just no one else is talkin’ to her, and I get why. I do. But I don’t want her to be alone.”
Tears burned in the back of my throat and I looked to Darragh. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and I knew he was conflicted about the whole thing too.
Dad shook his head at Derm. “It’s up to you kids what you decide to do regarding your mom. I understand either way, and I’m glad she’s got you. Okay?”
My brother nodded, and I could see him struggling to hide his emotions.
Silence fell across the kitchen.
And then Bailey piped up, “Did I ever tell you guys about the time Dahlia accidentally flashed old Mr. Shickle, who owns the Ice Cream Shack?”
Horror filled me. “Don’t you dare! This is my brothers and my dad.”
Snorts of laughter came from all three, and that propelled Bailey onward to my mortification. “It was a rare day off, we’d been on the beach in our bikinis—stop leering at me, Dermot—and we’d gone to the Ice Cream Shack. But Dahlia leaned against the wall as we waited for our ice cream and got the ties of her bikini caught in an old picture hook on Mr. Shickle’s wall. Instead of patiently trying to untie it, she yanked it.” Her laughter-filled eyes came to me. “Bikini top came off, and Mr. Shickle was rushed to the hospital with a suspected heart attack. In the end, it was only arrhythmia, and he survived, but there left no doubt in the minds of the people of Hartwell that the sight of Dahlia McGuire naked was too much for old Mr. Shickle to cope with.”
My cheeks burned with mortification as my dad and brothers veered between horror that their daughter/sister had flashed her boobs in public, and hilarity that I had, indeed, sent an old man to the hospital.
“I cannot believe you told that story!”
“What story?” Krista asked as she wandered into the kitchen.
So I had to endure another retelling. Embarrassing! Krista nearly peed her pants laughing. And