Page 47 of Broken Blood Ties
The mental picture of Aoife and Summer sleeping peacefully burns vividly in my mind. Snatching the purchase orders off my desk, I crumple them in a ball.
Better double this order. I’m going to need all the top-shelf liquor I can get.
Chapter15
Kieran
“Daddy!” Aoife’s excited voice when I walk through the school’s doors to pick her up makes taking the time to do so today worth it. She went back to school three days ago, and when I told Allie I wanted to pick her up today, she told me it was a good idea. I should make the effort more often.
“Hey, little love. How was your day?” I hug Aoife tightly, kneeling on the green Ardenbrook seal on the marble floor entryway where the preschoolers get picked up.
We have about ten minutes before the other grades get dismissed and head to the carpool, so I stand, scanning the entryway. I’m semi-frantic that I won’t see her, and I’m not sure why. I crane my neck, hoping to glimpse her slender figure. My gaze lands on an unfamiliar older woman clutching a clipboard. She looks to be in her mid-sixties, her silver hair neatly styled, a red scarf knotted on her neck.
I meet Aoife’s hopeful stare. “Who’s that woman over there?”
“Oh. She’s our pretend teacher for the day?”
My brows dive before I finally realize what she’s saying. “She was your substitute teacher today?”
“Uh-huh. Miss Smith is out sick.”
I frown, swallowing a knot in my throat that’s quickly replaced by another in my stomach. It twists, growing tighter.
Sick? Summer’s sick? She no doubt caught whatever Aoife and Allie had. The flu or Covid. Perhaps some other virus. Either way, a weird crushing feeling replaces the anticipation of seeing her.
Escorting Aoife to the car and getting her buckled into her seat, I make the drive back home where Allie waits with hot chocolate and a board game on the island.
When I linger in the kitchen, stealing a few marshmallows from the bag next to Aoife’s cup, it earns me a perplexing look from Allie.
“Summer’s sick,” I blurt out, and both Aoife and Allie look at me.
Allie’s mouth drops open, then closes before she says, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I miss her.” Aoife blows on her mug of liquid chocolate and takes a sip. “We should make her soup. She made us soup.”
A slow smile builds on Allie’s face as she looks at me. “That she did.”
My fingers tingle at the side of my suit pants. Should I check on her? She’s sick because of my home after all. But I didn’t ask her to come inside and play nursemaid. I lean forward on the counter before stepping back to pace. I have her number, saved it on my phone the day she left me the voicemail—do I call? Text?
Twisting my cuff links, I walk to peek out the window. I turn back toward Allie, and she nods at me.
What?I want to ask. But deep down I have a feeling I know. I was so rude to her after she took the time to help. I owe her this.
“I’ll be back later,” I say, finally putting an end to my pacing. I kiss Aoife and grab my coat, running to my car before backing out of my driveway once more.
After a quick stop at O’Brien’s for some Irish stew and to grab Summer’s address from Cormac, I make the trek outside of Boston. I’m in awe that someone with a job in the heart of the city lives so far out. She doesn’t have a car that I know of. I believe she takes public transportation; or Ubers, considering she waited at the end of my driveway for a ride almost a week ago. That had to be expensive, and I toy with the idea of reimbursing her.
The potholes in this area outside Boston are exceptionally uncared for, and my car bumps down the narrow street as I search for the address Cormac gave me on a Post-it note, of all things. I glance down some sketchy alleyways and a few run-down buildings.
She lives around here?
Finally, I spot the address in gold numbers on the windows of a music shop and squint at the closed building. Huh?
Pulling over on the street to park, I notice a side door next to the music shop entrance with the same numerical address. A second-floor balcony sits above the glass windows of the shop.
Does she live above this music shop?
I climb out of the car, slipping on ice as I move to the passenger side and end up catching myself on my Audi’s side mirror. Shite. I’m a mess. Without a coat on, I reach into the passenger seat and grab the stew and a few other items I had Lizzy toss in the bag.
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