I grinned at her and whispered back, "Knows what?"
Ma then winked at me and pulled my head down to press a kiss to my forehead. She patted my cheek. "We're so happy to have you in the family, love."
I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You know it's meant the world to me," I said and I meant every word. "To me and Zara."
With Michael and with the O'Sullivans we'd finally found a home. All those years I'd told Zara it was just her and me, like we'd alone survived some apocalypse and there was no one else on earth. I'd thought that was the way it had to be, the way it'd have to be to be safe, to not get hurt. But I finally saw that I'd locked both of us in a bunker. There was no pain, but there was also no joy, no love, no life.
It was still hard for me, sometimes, to let go, to be vulnerable, to open myself up with my new family. But the O'Sullivans had a way of stubbornly prying that shell open, whether you wanted it pried open or not.
The wind was suddenly knocked from my lungs when Eoin's bear paw of an arm came crashing down over my shoulders.
"Come on, Abbi," he bellowed. "It's time for shots."
Ma was with Zara and the other kids at the face painting station, so I let Eoin guide me over to a bar where Michael was passing out shots of Poitín.
"Isn't it a little early for this?" Duffy asked, eyeing the glasses.
Aubrey picked one up and sniffed it with a scowl. "It's like 10 a.m.," she said.
I saw my opportunity and grabbed Kayleigh's hand.
"I think us ladies will start off with something more refined," I said, dragging Kayleigh who dragged Aubrey who dragged Duffy.
"What am I supposed to do with all these shots?" Michael called after me.
I grinned at him over my shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find some use for them."
As we girls arrived at a booth offering mimosas, we heard a chorus of loud shouts and saw the boys double up on shots before coughing and pounding their chests with more howls. I ordered as the girls laughed.
"Three mimosas and one orange juice."
"No champagne?" Aubrey asked as the bartender passed over her drink.
I shook my head and grinned over the lip of my champagne-less champagne glass. Duffy and Kayleigh exchanged glances.
"Because champagne gives you headaches?" Duffy asked.
I shook my head and my grin widened.
"Because champagne is high in sugar?" Kayleigh asked.
"Nope."
Aubrey's eyes widened as she excitedly asked, "Because you just had whiskey in your coffee and you're moderating your drinks unlike us immature adults?"
I checked over my shoulder to make sure Michael was out of earshot, and then I leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "Who said I had whiskey in my coffee?"
Kayleigh gasped and Aubrey slammed down her drink and Duffy shrieked before I could clamp a hand over her mouth.
"Holy shit," she cried between my fingers as I laughed. "You're—"
"Shh!" I hissed. "Michael doesn't know."
Just then the boys arrived, armed with freshly poured pints of beer.
"What are you all doing over here?" Noah asked. "We heard shouting."
I gave the girls a covert wink before grabbing my champagne glass.
"We're drinking," I said. "Just like you."
Darren found out when he caught me watering the weeds beneath the picnic table with my Guinness when Michael went to dance with Zara.
"You're not going to be able to keep that a secret for very long," he said with a rare smile. "Especially not in this family."
"Damn, Abbi," Michael said as he returned breathless to the table and saw my empty pint glass. "How am I supposed to keep up with you when you're drinking that fast?"
Darren struggled to keep his knowing grin hidden as Michael wrapped me in his arms and peppered my cheeks with kisses. "You just want to get me wasted so you can take advantage of me, don't you?"
I ruffled my fingers through his sandy-blonde hair warmed by the sun. His cheeks were already red from the alcohol and dancing and heat.
"She's always trying to get into my pants," Michael told Darren, who nearly choked on his beer.
"I have a feeling it might be the other way around, mate," Darren replied, eyes flashing mischievously at me.
Michael frowned. "What's that?"
"Let's dance!" I shouted, grabbing Michael's hand and tugging him away.
I shot Darren a glare from the dance floor, and he just laughed as Kayleigh joined him and they started whispering excitedly together.
It took Eoin a bit longer to notice. It was in the early afternoon and the bright sun beat down as the music swelled and swelled and the drinks poured and poured. Eoin insisted we do shots to celebrate “love and shite” after putting two and two together and realising it had been me all along who he overheard on the phone with Michael ten years ago.
He handed me the first shot and when he tipped his back, I dripped mine to the grass. He was drunk enough to think I'd spilled. So he ordered two more. I chuckled to myself as he again downed his second drink in thirty seconds and chastised me for being too drunk to get the liquor to my mouth.
"And Americans think they can outdrink the Irish," he snorted, ordering two more shots of Poitín. "Pro tip on this one, Abs. Close one eye if you're seeing double. I believe in you."
Eoin wailed in distress when I laughed and again dumped the shot into the grass.
"You're wasting it!" he cried.
I shook my head. "Oh, Eoin."
I stopped him from ordering more drinks and stretched up onto my tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "I can't drink."
"No, shite," he
