Page 56 of Priestly Sins

“Oh, love, I’ll have you show me how you make it tomorrow. Did you know you only get one perfect cup of coffee a day? It’s a rule or something.”

The whispered “Liar” next to me makes me smile.

“Clara, we’re going to Galway today to buy some supplies. Can you help your mom make a list of what we need to make pink cupcakes or pink petit fours?”

“I can do that!” She runs down the hall and Sirona smiles up at me.

“Playing you.”

“Enjoying every minute of it.”

I lean down and peck her on the lips and leave her smiling as I walk back to my room.

Showered and ready to go, I look at the list. Holy cow!

“Think we can fit all this in the car?”

One little, loud “Yes” is contradicted by a huskier “Doubtful.”

We take off for the city down the hill and find a baking supply shop in addition to a WalMart-type superstore. We find bowls, a stand mixer and a hand-held version, pastry cutters and spreaders and other utensils.

A trip to the grocery provides most of the ingredients we need. Sirona has specific opinions on brands and types of flours and sugar, among other things, but Irish butter being superior to all others—her words, not mine—there is a ray of hope in our haul.

We drive past Eyre Square and talk about all the flags that fly there before driving home to begin the ridiculous task of washing all of this cooking stuff.

I suggest Clara grab her iPad and bring inFrozenwith her AirPods. She does so and I go to the office and grab my laptop and place it in front of Sirona. I log in to Amazon’s UK site and make sure she sees the name and password.

“Order what you’re missing, sweetheart. Get the right flour and the French salt and the utensils you want.”

“You’ve already done enough. I don’t need anything more.”

I squat down in front of her and look her in the eyes. “I didn’t say ‘need.’ I said ‘want.’ It’s important to me you’re at home here. Make this a home, okay? Bedding, stuff for Clara, beauty crap, makeup, whatever. Get what you want.”

“But, I —”

Lowering my voice, I add, “Get Christmas, too. Okay? I’m clueless on that and we only have three weeks.”

Her hand flies to her mouth while her eyes bug out.

“I forgot Christmas,” she mouths, her face showing panic.

“Good thing you have me then.”

I reach up and hold her cheek, strumming my thumb across her bottom lip, staring.

“Baby?”

She holds my eyes but nods ever so slightly.

“You’re home. You can do whatever you need to make this feel like it’s yours. If it’s not Amazon, we’ll find another site. You know it’s a quick trip to France. You need it, we’ll get it.”

I leave my squat and head for Clara. “Want to go watchFrozenon the big TV?”

“Yes!” she squeals and heads for the living room, iPad clutched in her hands.

“Oh, Sirona?”

“Yeah?”