I don’t think I’ve ever been to a funeral before when it hasn’t rained. It’s fitting, isn’t it? Almost like the sky is crying too. But there is no rain today. On the day of Patrick Ryan’s funeral, the sun is shining brightly and the weather is hot and sticky. I stand between my four boys, who are all dressed smartly in suits and ties. They keep their heads bowed respectfully and anyone watching would think they were dutiful sons paying their respects. As the coffin is lowered into the ground a woman nearby wails loudly and I glance sideways at Mikey just in time to see him roll his eyes. I reach for his hand and squeeze and he winks at me.
Soon this will be over and we can go home.
Home. It is funny to be thinking of a place as my true home after such a long time of never feeling like I belonged anywhere. We have a flight booked for tomorrow morning. I was pleased to hear that Erin won’t be joining us and even more pleased to hear she has decided to stay behind in Ireland. After the funeral today there will be a huge party, as is the tradition in Ireland, but we won’t be at it. The boys and I, along with their Aunt Em and cousin Aoife, will go back to the house and have a barbecue and some drinks. Not to celebrate Patrick Ryan’s life, or even his death, but because this is our last night and Em and Aoife don’t want us to go. They have promised to visit though and I hope they do. I have loved getting to know them.
I will raise a silent toast to Patrick and Paul Ryan later though. They might have been sadistic psychopaths, but these four incredible men beside me wouldn’t be here without them.
I sit on one of the lounge chairs with my face tilted toward the sun as I listen to the Ryan family chatting happily in the background, mostly about Aoife and Noel’s upcoming wedding.
“I wish you could stay for the wedding,” Aoife says with a sigh. “It’s only two weeks away.”
“I wish we could but we have to get back home,” Shane replies.
“You promised to visit after you’ve had the baby,” Mikey reminds her. “We’ll show you the best New York has to offer.”
“I’m looking forward to visiting the States,” Em adds with a contented sigh.
I open my eyes and look at them all. “Don’t forget to send me lots of pictures of the day, Aoife. Especially your dress.”
She waddles over and sits beside me, groaning softly as she rubs her baby bump. “I will.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” I say. “And I definitely want tons of pictures of the bump when he or she arrives too. Okay?”
“Oh I’m going to bombard you with them,” she laughs. “You’ll be fed up of baby pictures.”
“You want a top up?” I ask as I see her empty glass of lemonade.
“Yes please.” She holds out her glass to me.
I walk back to the house, passing Shane as I do. “Can you help me with the drinks?”
“Of course,” he replies with a frown because everyone except Aoife has a full glass.
“Everything okay?” he asks once we’re inside the house.
I swallow hard. I don’t know how to tell him this, but I have been thinking a lot about my future and what I want in my life and for the first time in forever, I am certain about what that is. “I need to talk to you,” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Okay.”
“With all this talk of Aoife and Noel’s wedding, I remembered that I finally have an answer for you.”
“An answer?”
“Your proposal, remember? In Em’s garden. Me marrying Conor?”
“Oh? Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.
I take a deep breath. I need to just tell him quickly and get it over with. It’s just like ripping off a Band-Aid, right?
