She sighed as she stood, then said goodnight to the room with the things that made her happy and content. She descended the stairs and met up with Danny, who was waiting in the living room.
“Again, I’m sorry. I agreed to this before I knew you’d be here.”
Danny’s apology was cute but unnecessary. She didn’t mind at all helping watch the weans. “I don’t get how you are the choice as a childminder for wee ones.”
With a shrug, he explained, “I like kids and offered one day to watch Ace, who is almost three now. After that, I became a babysitter for when the family goes out together. Now there are four one-year-olds, but with Reagan and Amber, I barely have anything to do. Those two act like mother hens. Truthfully, they’re a little bossy. Cute bossy, but bossy.”
Moira laughed at that visual. “Didn’t you say Reagan had an older brother? Surely he could watch the weans.”
Danny laughed. “He’s a sixteen-year-old boy. He only cares about getting to first base. Besides, maybe the babies will have their first steps for us.”
The doorbell rang and Moira braced herself for an evening as a childminder. Seven wee ones. She wasn’t against it, but she hadn’t been around babies enough, and she worried she might do the wrong thing.
As it turned out, all the weans were walking. Nay, not walking, sprinting. She, Amber, and Reagan each took a wee one to keep corralled in the living room with the others. Danny took two toddlers. The babies got into everything and they did it lightning fast. No wonder the family didn’t get out together much. Who would watch this group? Well, besides Danny, who seemed as if he could’ve handled all the weans with ease. He brightened when playing with them. The man needed to have a family. It was obvious he craved one. Or at least did so when he was minding the babies.
With the wee ones finally asleep in Danny’s room and Danny occupying three-year-old Ace, Moira and the older kids went back to the living room.
After getting them each a beverage, Moira sat, and Amber pulled herself up on the couch beside her. Then the little girl proceeded to impart her wisdom. “Mom says I can’t live with a boy unless we’re married or related. Are you related to Uncle Danny? Because if you are, then it’s okay you live here, but if not, well, I guess you have to get married.”
The logic of a six-year-old astounded her. She really didn’t have words for a response that would pacify the girl. She desired Danny and living with him presented a challenge for her not to be forward since he was being so respectful, but married? Nay. She didn’t care for the state of matrimony. Being free and single to live how she wanted suited her fine.
Reagan slid onto the love seat facing them. “Silly, that’s only a rule made by your mom and dad. Real adults don’t have to be married or related to live together. I heard Dad say people live in sin all the time. Uncle Ken and Aunt Sam did before they got married.”
These parents were really messing with their kiddos’ heads. She’d heard the men of this family were overprotective, but come on. Expecting it to be futile since the weans seemed confident in their parents’ version, she tried to set the record straight. She did think it cute the kids all called Danny—and he said his teammates—Uncle. “Your uncle Danny is letting me stay here until my brother and his girlfriend arrive. We’re not living in sin, getting married, or related. It is possible for two adults to be just roommates.”
Reagan snorted. “Uncle Jake would never allow that for Amber. He said she couldn’t even date until she was thirty. Imagine. Thirty is ancient. I mean, I don’t want to date boys now, but Mom says I will one day, but it will be when I’m a teenager not thirty. I’ll be half-dead by that age.”
“Oh yeah, well, Uncle Jesse said you can’t date until you’re twenty-five. So there.” Amber stuck out her tongue.
Reagan groaned and fell back in the cushions. “Twenty-five. Ancient.”
Moira grinned and guessed that did seem ancient to a nine-year-old, but since Moira was twenty-eight, she was beginning to feel as prehistoric as the girls made her age sound.
“Are your brother and his girlfriend getting married? Because if not, they shouldn’t be living here together either,” Amber said.
As she’d expected, her explanation had gone in one ear and out the other. What the child’s parents taught her stood firm in her mind. “They do plan to get married. They’re having a wean.” Too late she realized she might’ve opened up a whole other conversation.
Amber scrunched up her nose. “What’s a wean?”
Moira tried to keep her Irish from her vocabulary, so she’d fit in better, but sometimes, it slipped out. “A baby.”
“And they’re not married?” Amber asked and truth be told, the child looked scandalized.
“Not yet. Her daddy didn’t approve of my brother, so they couldn’t get married before.”
“But he approves now?” Reagan asked.
“Let’s just say that he’s not standing in the way any longer.”
“Oh boy,” Reagan said with a dramatic eye roll.
“What?” She couldn’t imagine what she’d said to evoke that response.
“Anytime our parents start a sentence with ‘let’s just say,’ it means they think we won’t understand.”
Well, she couldn’t tell them Diana’s father wanted them both dead instead of blessing their union. “Nay. Nothing like that for me.”
Reagan nodded. “You’ve
