Page 2

Chapter

One

BABY PLEASE DON’T LEAVE HOME

Willow

“Love makes fools out of us.” — M

“ I still think Cianne should go with you,” Dad mutters for the fifth time since he and Mom barged into my room and took over my last-minute packing. I’ve put off packing because I was still unsure if this was something I wanted to do but Mom convinced me to look at my work trip as a big great adventure.

I don’t look at it like she does.

It is not a big, great adventure.

To me it is a trip I will be taking without my two favorite people in the whole world and that had me in a melancholic mood all month even though it is my favorite month of the year.

I’m leaving today and the only one excited for the trip is Mom.

I’m hesitant and Dad is in denial.

“No, Riagan. Willow is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” Mom retorts as she sorts my clothes into color-coordinated piles for the suitcase.

I watch in awe as she adds things that make me smile to the suitcase. She pulls out my favorite mushroom t-shirt and folds it carefully before placing it on top of the stack of clothes, a smile tugging at her lips.

Next, she reaches for my favorite book, Mushrooms Demystified, its cover creased from countless readings. The old book is filled with dog-eared pages and notes scribbled in the margins in green ink. She gently slides my book into the suitcase, placing it beside my favorite t-shirt. The sight of my Mom packing things that she knows makes me happy and lessens my anxiety makes me smile and brings warmth to my chest.

Lastly, I watch as she places my Formula 1 jacket inside the suitcase.

I smile wider at that, still remembering the day my aunt Arianna gifted it to me as a birthday present, along with tickets to see the final race of that year’s season. My heart was bursting as I tore open the wrapping paper, revealing the striking and iconic red jacket.

It is one of many happy memories I share with my aunt.

“Butterfly… she needs protection,” Dad argues, drawing my attention away from the jacket and up to him. I notice he’s stashed knives of every size inside the suitcase pocket. Since I’ll be traveling on our family’s jet, he knows the knives won’t be a problem.

I smile at that too.

In school I was not only the girl with all her uncles posing as bodyguards but also the one with tiny knives and pepper spray in her Hello Kitty backpack.

“She’ll be sa—” Mom starts to say but I interrupt her. “Uncle can come,” I interject, knowing they won’t come to an agreement since they’ve been arguing about the same thing since the first moment I brought up the trip. “I don’t mind it.” I smile at them while nerves take over my belly at the thought of leaving home for the first time during this time of the year.

The holidays.

Christmas is a big deal in our family.

I know it is a big deal in almost every house in the world but in the O’Sullivan household it is truly a magical event.

You see… my father is half Irish and half Italian, while mom is Italian-American. You’d think the Italian side of our family would dominate, but it doesn’t. Mom never quite connected with her heritage, so she embraced Dad’s Irish roots instead.

Our Christmas traditions are your typical ones, the same food, same decorations and all of that very American Christmas but we also decorate with holly, ivy, and of course Christmas lights. Dad is always in charge of hanging the wreath on the door while Mom hangs mistletoe all over.

Mom cooks the typical roast turkey with stuffing for the rest of the family and helps me make a vegetarian option for me while we also bake various desserts like Christmas pudding and mincemeat pie which grandpa enjoys more than the others.

The leaving of the shoes on Christmas eve is another of our traditions where it symbolizes a welcome to Mary and Joseph. It was always so much fun to wake up and find small treats and meaningful gifts in my father’s large shoes.

I’m going to miss all of that this year.

Should I even do this? Am I making a mistake?

I stare at the open suitcase on my bed, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. My favorite mint sweater and white sneakers I was trying to pack makes this even more real. Every trip I’ve ever been on has always been with my parents or my uncles and aunts but I’ve never been on my own.

I’ve been so busy getting everything ready for the research trip the last couple of weeks that I haven’t had time to sit and think.

I’ll be leaving my parents for the first time. I’ve never left home, not even for college. I graduated early and headed to Penn. A university close to home. It was safe and that’s all I’ve ever been…safe.

I love my family and the thought of leaving the safe little bubble my parents made for me always gives me anxiety but I know although this trip might be scary it is necessary not only for my career but for my personal growth as well. I need to spread my wings or so my cousins Ella and Raiza say.

Taking a deep sigh, I turn to look at the window. Outside the snow is falling softly, dusting everything in sight in white. Mom decorated the house for Christmas using tones of red, white and green. She says that those are the true colors of Christmas and won’t accept anything else. My aunt Arianna decorated her home in a white Christmas theme as always and aunt Kadra opted for a black Christmas. Very on brand for the Solonik family.

As I look at the snow falling outside my window, I think of how it is a week before Christmas, and here I was, about to leave my haven for a work research trip. A research trip that has the potential to be one of the most important achievements of my career. GreenPlanet Lab, the company I work for, is sending me and four of my work colleagues on an all paid trip. Ethan, Bernie, Cleo and Maya are all coming with and they’re all so excited to have been chosen for this trip although they’ve all been on research trips before so this is nothing new to them. I’ve only been with the company for a year and this is the first time I was asked to travel for work. I knew it was coming but I didn’t think it would be during the holidays. I love Christmas at home but most of all I love a white Christmas where I go outside and make snowmen with Mom and Dad and have Christmas eve dinner with all my family surrounded by the fire while my Dad and uncles argue and threaten to kill each other and burn their cities down when they get mad. I won’t have that where I’m going.

“Angel Girl,” Mom taps my shoulders, snapping me out of my thoughts. My eyes meet a beautiful shade of green. My favorite color. Even through my anxiety, I smile. My mother, Mila, is the epitome of effortless beauty with her long blonde curls cascading down her back and her makeup-free face that still looks like it did when she was my age. She’s as pretty now as she was when I was younger. No, she’s grown even more beautiful with time— a fact my father would wholeheartedly agree with. He’s obsessed with my mom. It’s sweet.

They’ve always been loving, not only towards me but towards each other. I grew up in a home full of love and happiness. Maybe that’s why the thought of leaving them— and not just them, but my uncles Callam, Bain, my aunt Maeve, and my Papa Cathan too—makes me terribly sad.

Trying not to think too hard about all that I’m leaving behind this holiday season, I look at my mother as she smiles with her entire face while using sign language and whispering at the same time. My parents learned sign language the moment they found out I failed the hearing test when I was born. You see, Mom had a difficult labor, and as a result of some complications, I was born with 70% hearing loss. They gave me all the tools I needed to manage my disability, from sign language lessons to cochlear implants. Yet, they couldn’t shield me from everything that came with not fitting into what society deems as “ normal .”

They feel guilty. I know it. Even though they shouldn’t, because they did everything to give me the best life. And I did have, and still have the best life, even if it wasn’t always filled with sunshine and unicorns like they wished for me.

But I survived.

Because I’m their daughter.

The very best of them.

“Willow…” Mom says softly. “You’ll have a magical time. The most wonderful time. You’ll see.” I watch her, feeling a pang of sadness. She’s always had trouble with eye contact; her gaze often skims the floor or shifts to the side. Yet she always does her best to give us her lovely eyes, even if only for a brief moment.

Although Dad is our protector and the strongest man I know, Mom is pretty damn strong herself. She’s never told me about the struggles she’s faced and still faces because of her own disability, but I can imagine. Despite everything, her smile has never faltered, and she always has a kind word for everyone she meets.

She and Dad are my everything.

“I—I,” I say, though my voice wavers. I zip up my yellow suitcase, my hands moving automatically. “I just keep thinking about how close Christmas is and how far away I’ll be from you both. I’ll miss you like crazy. I don’t want to leave you,” I whisper while Mom’s hand gently brushes against my shoulder. It’s a small touch, but it felt like a lifeline. My parents’ kind words of encouragement and magical hugs always make me feel like everything is right in the world, even when it isn’t.

“Baby girl,” Mom says softly, her voice steady even though her eyes focus on a spot just over my shoulder. “Everything will be alright. You’re brilliant, and we’re so proud of you, Willow. This trip will make you plenty of memories, you’ll see, and your Dad and I will be here waiting to celebrate the holidays when you come back.” Her hand on my shoulder feels warm and reassuring. I took a deep breath, feeling the knot in my chest loosen a bit. “And who knows, you might even find your better half there. I sure found mine on my first trip ever.” Mom adds, beaming at Dad, who is looking at her with soft eyes filled with love.

“Let’s not give her any ideas, baby,” Dad grumbles, but the softness in his eyes shows he is anything but annoyed. Mom’s smile widens mischievously.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper looking at the two of them. “I know I shouldn’t be this attached to you both.”

“Who says?” Dad barks.

I give him a half smile. “Normal society.”

“But we aren’t normal, Angel Girl and society is ordinary.” Mom gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “This family is extraordinary and it’s okay to feel that way. It means you love us as much as we love you. Just remember, we’re always here for you, no matter how far you go. You, Willow, are always in our hearts, and we’ll be here,” she taps my chest three times, making me smile. “Distance will never change that.”

Mom taught me when I was little that tapping my heart three times would make the pain slowly disappear. I never had the heart to tell her that it didn’t quite work for me. The pain others cause never ceased. It didn’t magically disappear. I just bottled it all up and tried my best to not let it get me down.

But it obviously didn’t always work because I let what others thought of me hide my voice in shame. The thought of others hearing my voice at times cripples me.

Dad comes over and places two fingers under my chin, making me look up at him. “If you need anything, just call us. We’re just a phone call away.” He then throws his arm over Mom’s shoulders and pulls us all closer. “One call, Mo Chuisle . One call, and we’ll hop on a plane and get you.”

My father, Riagan O’Sullivan, is the best man I know. The sword and shield of this family. He’s always been the one I run to when I’m scared or hurt, and even now that I’m in my mid- twenties, I still feel that same way. My Dad is all that to me and Mom, but to this city, he is the boss, aka the Godfather.

Yes, my father is a criminal to some and a hero to others. It all depends on how you look at it. Mom says that Dad does what the good guys fail to do. She also reminds me of what really matters—what truly is valuable about a person. Their hearts, and my father has the biggest heart I know.

“One call…” I whisper, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill at this emotional moment while reaching up and tracing my name inked on my father’s neck. “I love you both so much,” I whisper.

When it’s just us, I don’t fear ridicule for using my words. The anxiety doesn’t threaten to cripple me like it does around strangers. With them, I feel comfortable and at home. Always.

Dad squeezes us tighter against his chest, making us both laugh. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” He then presses a kiss on both Mom’s and my heads.

“I’m the lucky one, my sweet giant,” Mom breathes us as she squeezes us tighter. “I love our perfectly imperfect family. It’s us and Cianne, Callam, Papa Cathan, and Maeve against the world.”

I smile at that.

Perfectly imperfect family.

Mom really does know what to always say to ease my heart and my anxiety.

“Okay, let’s finish packing so our little girl can go on her grand adventure and make beautiful and magical memories,” Mom says, clapping happily with a face full of joy and hope. That’s all she’s ever wanted for me— love, happiness and a magical life, just like the one she created after Dad saved her from the unhappy ending she was destined to face before he found her in an alley.

“So it’s decided—Cianne will go with you,” Dad says, pulling back and going to pick up my suitcase.

I nod. “Yeah, Dad…” I smile and then pick up my favorite mushroom plushie that Dad won for me at an arcade when I was six years old. We named it Auguie, and I haven’t spent a single night away from it since. I place Auguie inside my carry-on and close it.

“Here, sweetheart,” Mom says, her voice barely above a whisper. I watch as she carefully unfastens the clasp of her favorite gold necklace. The locket is small and delicate, engraved with our initials—hers, Dad’s, and mine. The sunlight catches on the gold, turning it into a little piece of magic that glows softly. She guides the necklace around my neck, the cool metal warming quickly against my skin. As she adjusts it, her fingers linger for a moment, brushing against my collarbone. I glance up, and she gives me a small, knowing smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Then, with a deep, gentle sigh, she looks at me in a way that says more than any words could and makes the sign for “ I love you .”

With emotion swirling deep in my chest, I do the same.

How did I get so lucky?

I watch my parents as they finish helping me with my bags, and when we’re done I feel the air change in the room. That’s when I notice my mother’s eyes glistening, and the way dad is griping on the suitcase handle— a little tighter than normal.

Even though they’re clearly excited for me, mostly Mom, I can tell they’re as sad as I am. I try to hold back my tears, but they well up, blurring the sight of my parents’ bittersweet expressions.

Just as the silence thickens making this moment sadder than before, the door to my room bursts open with an exaggerated creak. The three of us turn to look and there stands my Uncle Cianne, dressed in bright yellow, tropical print shorts, a loose white shirt covered in palm trees, and oversized shades perched on his nose. He’s holding a pineapple cup, sipping from a straw with a grin so wide it almost splits his face in half.

He looks ready for a beach day.

His Irish accent rings out clear and cheerful, “Let’s go, buttercup. Brazil is waiting.”

His sudden appearance, so out of place and brimming with his easy going attitude, snaps me out of my melancholy. I can’t help but chuckle, my sadness and nerves are momentarily forgotten as I look at him. My crazy uncle even has an inflatable flamingo on his waist.

“Uncle Cianne,” I whisper, trying to hide my smile, “no one makes an entrance quite like you.”

He winks at me and gives a little twirl, the pineapple cup bobbing with each movement. He puts the pineapple cup down and signs. “You know it, my sweets.”

My parents share a glance, a mixture of relief and amusement in their eyes. My mom gives a little laugh and wipes away a tear, while my dad shakes his head, smiling despite himself. “You need to get your head checked, Kelly,” he says, stepping forward to grab the bags. “Let’s get you to Brazil. And remember,” he turns and bops my nose. “One fucking call, yeah?”

“One fucking call, Dad.” I smile wide.

Dad grins before kissing the top of my head. “Atta, girl.”

Then I take one last look at my childhood room and with a deep breath, I follow my parents out the door, ready to embrace the adventures ahead and what life has in store for me this holiday season.

I didn’t know it then but my life was never going to be the same the moment I stepped foot in Brazil because there my happily ever after was waiting.

Him.