“You’re putting words in my mouth that I’m not saying.”
“Are you thinking them?”
He paused, then—wise man—he shook his head. “No. I’m not. I meant what I said the other night, Kelli. You’ll be a great mom, and I know you’re perfectly capable of doing it on your own.”
“It’ll probably be easier without a man,” she grumbled.
He chuckled. “Probably.”
She gave him a rueful, apologetic smile. “Sorry. I guess you can tell I’m sort of gearing myself up to defend my decision against the naysayers. There are going to be plenty of people in my life—other friends, colleagues at work, my mother—who are going to feel it’s their God-given right to express their opinion about how I should live my life.”
“You can blame social media for that. Just remember, it’s your decision, your life. If anyone doesn’t agree, just say fuck ’em.”
“You’ve met my mother, Colm. Do you seriously think that’s going to work?”
Colm didn’t bother to hide his wince. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell your mom until the kid’s eighteen and off to college.”
Kelli laughed. “Believe me, I’ve considered that.” She loved her mother, she really did. But her mother tested her. Frequently. Daily.
If a person looked up overbearing in the dictionary, Barb Peterson’s picture would be there as the prime example. No doubt every teacher and principal Kelli ever had was glad to see the backside of her leaving their class or school forever, not because of anything she did, but because it meant they wouldn’t have to deal with Barb anymore. Her mother was loud, brusque, narrow-minded, and demanding, and, as much as it shamed Kelli to admit, she’d spent her entire life completely mortified by the woman.
“Don’t envy you that conversation,” Colm said, and his tone was so serious, so kind, she knew he wasn’t giving her shit. He was sincere.
“Thanks. I don’t know how—”
Before she could continue, Padraig stumbled over, his speech slightly slurred. “Oh man. Who left you two alone together? Is everything okay over here? Do I need to ring the bell to end the round?”
“Wow. Bourbon much, Farmer Collins?” Kelli asked, when she caught a whiff of his breath.
Padraig rarely got drunk. In fact, Kelli could count the number of times on one hand, and four of those would have been in the weeks after Mia’s death.
Tonight. He was…
“Jesus, Paddy,” Colm said, scowling. “You’re plastered.”
Emmy stood next to him, looking absolutely adorable. She’d talked Padraig into doing a partner costume with her—something Kelli took the time to point out to Colm as a way of teaching him what a true partner costume looked like. Padraig was a farmer, while Emmy was a strawberry.
Emmy gave them a wry grin, obviously as taken aback by Padraig’s current state as they were. “Apparently, he did some pregaming down at the pub with your Pop Pop before the party started.”
“Shit, I’d say he pregamed, tailgated, day-drank through the game, and celebrated the triple overtime win. How about some water, Paddy?” Colm offered, intent on leading his brother to the kitchen.
“Nope. I’m having fun. Water will just kill my buzz.”
“I’m not sure there’s enough water in the world to do that,” Kelli said. “But just for argument’s sake, what do you say we give it a try?”
“Let me have that.” Colm took Padraig’s cup from him, sipping from it. “Jesus. Did you forget to add the Coke?”
“Coke is just there to add a splash of color,” Padraig explained. “Give me my drink. I don’t lecture you two when you knock ’em back at the pub for hours on end.”
Kelli looked at Colm and shrugged. “He’s right. He doesn’t. So…Colm. We have a choice to make. Are we going to be the voice of reason or go to the next level with him?”
Colm rubbed his forehead. “I’m still suffering from leveling up with you on Wednesday. A one-day buffer in between isn’t enough.”
Kelli didn’t reply. Just gave him a look that was pure dare.
“Fine. Where’s your bottle of bourbon, Paddy?”
“I’ll get it.” Emmy stepped away then returned from the kitchen with half a fifth of bourbon, a couple cans of Coke, two more red Solo cups, and Robbie in tow. She started to hand one to Kelli, who shook her head.
“Fuck no. I’m good with the wine.”
“I like bourbon,” Robbie said, taking the extra cup.
Emmy played bartender for once, pouring each of the guys a drink, though she was more generous with the Coke than Padraig had been. Brooke joined them as the women lifted their wineglasses, the men their cups, and Colm issued his usual toast.
“Bottoms up. Especially yours.”
“Hey,” Sunnie said, crossing the room to Colm. “Where the hell is Darcy?”
Colm shrugged. “She texted me around seven and said she had to work a little late, but I thought she’d be here by now.”
“I better call her and che—”
Sunnie stopped mid-sentence as the lights flickered and then went out completely.
The room, which had been filled with music and loud voices, was suddenly very quiet and pitch-black.
“What the hell?” Sunnie said.
Several people pulled out their cell phones and fired up the flashlight app. When a few minutes passed, it became pretty obvious the power wasn’t coming back on.
Kelli made her way over to the window. “It’s not just us. Looks like the whole street is out. It’s dark as sin out there.”
Everyone started talking at once because, as Kelli had learned a long time ago, that was how the Collins clan communicated. It had taken her quite a few years when she was younger to get the knack of talking and listening at the same time, but the skill had come in handy now that she was a kindergarten teacher.
Suddenly, a loud whistle cut through the noise and everyone fell silent again.
“Jesus, Sunnie. I think you pierced my eardrum,” Landon said.
“Sorry,” Sunnie said, without an ounce of remorse in her voice. “But they weren’t quieting down
