Page 54 of Priestly Sins

“I have lamb in the freezer and pudding leftover in the fridge.”

“Then where’s the closest grocery store?”

“Tesco down the hill. Make a left going away from Galway.”

“Thanks! See you tonight?

“Aye.” His click must be goodbye.

Upon my return, I’m greeted by Clara first and foremost.

“Poppa Sean, I’m starving!”

“Help me with the bags?”

Good try but she gives up after two trips and heads back into the house to play a game on her iPad. I owned it for about six hours; she’s claimed it since.

* * *

We settleinto Irish life with a mostly American meal and spend the next couple of days trying to figure out how we’re going to live with all the chaos we just created.

Twenty-Nine

“Mommy, I miss home.”

It’s the sniffles accompanying her statement that break my heart as I eavesdrop from the hall.

“I’m sorry, baby. But this place is great too, right?”

More sniffles follow. “I want to go home.”

“I miss home, too, baby.”

This is degenerating quickly. I slide into the room and see Sirona’s desperate look and Clara’s red eyes. My heart can barely take it. Bedtime has gotten harder with each night we’ve been here. The cold, the wind, the utter absence of city noises…

“Beautiful girl?”

“Yeah, Poppa?”

“Will you tell me everything you miss about New Orleans?”

Sirona throws me a wary look. She knows I can’t fix this.

A sleepy nod is Clara’s response.

I sit down with my back against the headboard and cross my arms over my lap. Clara rolls toward me and grabs one hand, holding it with her tiny one.

She’s snuggled into my side and her eyes flutter open and closed as she begins. “I miss Sarah. I miss my class. I miss Miss Lowda. I miss my dolls. I miss my room.” The time between her sentences gets longer as her voice gets quieter and speech gets less clear. “I miss petty foors. I miss Mommy’s shop. I miss pink cupcakes.”

I raise my eyes to Sirona, seated at the foot of the bed, and give her a smile.

Just when we both suspect that Clara is fast asleep, she mumbles sleepily, “I want a puppy, Poppa.”

I stifle my laugh. This little girl has me wrapped around her little fingers and, if I’m not mistaken, she just played me to get a dog.

“Sweet dreams, precious girl.”

I wait until Clara’s arm and hand go heavy and her mouth pops open in its little “O” before gently sliding out from next to her and going to Sirona.