Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance (24 page)

“Good grief Cass, you scared me half to death. I wondered when you would come.” Cass looked at her in confusion. “You were expecting me?” Her mum nodded at her drying her hands on a tea-towel. “Rory came here yesterday. We talked for a few hours. A very nice man and very good looking. But then, you know that already. It seems you’ve been living a very exciting life in London Cassidy.”

Cass stared at her mom who was looking at her eyebrows raised. “Rory. Rory O’Malley? He came here? What the hell-?”

Her mother held her hand up and shushed her. “It’s okay Cass. Rory told us everything. How you both met. How he kept you in the dark about his sister. And how he found you. We didn’t agree with his methods and your father was angry to say the least. But, his sister has suffered a great trauma too. That family has been through hell and whether you like it or not, we are all connected now. And he loves you, Cass but, you know that, don’t you?”

Cass sat on the edge of the counter-top and looked at her mom. “Yeah, I know.”

“And you love him too?” Cass smiled shyly. “Yes.”

“Then go to him, Cass. But first, there’s something I need to give you.” Her mum looked anxious and her hands shook ever so slightly.

Cass rubbed her mum’s arms up and down. “What is it, whatever is going on mum I can handle it.”

“Cass, I kept a secret too. I’m not proud of it, but I felt at the time I was doing it for your own good. So don’t judge Rory too harshly. We all make mistakes in the name of love and protection.”

“I understand the need to protect your own. Tell me mum, I’ll try to understand. I promise.”

“I know you will Cass. You’re a good girl. You always were, you never gave me a moment of trouble. Neither of you did.” Cass tried to keep her mind steady, did everyone keep secrets? She knew she had. Her parents would have supported her through Jonathan’s assault. They would have protected her, minded her. So why didn’t she tell them?
Because you wanted to protect them. Isn’t that what we do for the ones we love?
Her mum moved to the loveseat near the window and patted the seat beside her.

“Before Harry died he wrote you a letter. On the night of the party, after the police had left, I slept in his room, in his bed. To feel closer to him. You know, to smell him, to feel his essence around me. My beautiful boy. I found it on his bed.”

“What? How is that possible, why didn’t you give it to me?”

Cassidy turned from her mother and laced her hands through her hair.

She felt hot stinging tears in the back of her eyes and when her mother hugged her she leaned back into her, afraid of what was coming next.

“I didn’t give it to you because you weren’t ready. You couldn’t move forward, you needed to let him go. We all did, but you especially. It’s not honouring his memory to stop living. To shy away from love and life the way you have. Rory has changed that. He is the one person you have allowed to crack the shell around your heart. You are free now, my lovely girl. Free to start your life again.”

Alice put her hands lightly on Cass’s shoulders, and turned her around to face her.

“Are you angry with me, Cass?”

‘No. Of course not. I understand why you kept it.”

“Moving on doesn’t meaning forgetting, it just means remembering the parts of him that are still here. His spirit, his life, his gift to Aoife and the others who benefited from his organ donation.”

Cass shut her eyes tight and let a single tear fall, before she dashed it away and let out the breath she had been holding.

“I know, mum. I know it’s time to say goodbye to him. Before it felt like a betrayal. Now it just feels like a new beginning.”

Alice pressed the letter into her hand, and nodded at Cass as she left the room. Looking around the room Cass walked back over to the bay window and stared out for a minute, fingering the envelope. It was crisp, white and smooth, with a raised area in the middle. Her hands were shaking as she opened it and shook the contents onto her lap. A small black velvet pouch caught her eye and she put it down on her lap picking up the letter and unfolding it.

Dearest Cassie,

Okay, I know this is probably unexpected. As you know, I’m not much into letter writing etc. Except for the seventeen love letters I sent to Michelle Dixon, at fourteen. Of course, I hope you don’t walk up to me with your boyfriend in tow and set fire to them at my feet. I’m not sure I could go through it a second time. Those were my favourite shoes and I stank of smoke for two weeks after!!!!!!! Although, when you throat punched him in front of half the class, he did seem more than a little contrite. Seriously though, I wanted to write to you today on the day of our 21
st
birthday. There is so much I want to say to you. When I head off to France on Tuesday, it will be our first time apart, ever. A full year of studying abroad, I can’t even think how I will do it without you. We have grown up together; we grew inside mum together, always the two of us against the world. Twins, college roommates, best friends, you have seen every high and every low of my life so far. I will miss you the most. I love you so much and I am so proud of the woman you have become. As your older brother (Hey, no eye roll, those fifteen minutes are very important) I want to make sure you are ready for life and it is my solemn duty to impart some wisdom I have gathered over the last 21 years. Listen up, sis.

1. You are a beautiful, strong woman and should absolutely DUMP Jonathan. Now!

2. He is not good enough for you, treats you like

dirt and is talking about waxing his balls (I’m serious).

3. You can do anything you want in life. No. Don’t disagree or raise your eyes to heaven or shake your head. I really mean it. I admire you so much. You are so wonderfully driven and you don’t even give yourself credit for it. I hope life gives you everything you deserve and only good things. You are sublimely talented.

4. Always know, that I love you unconditionally. I will always be on your side. No matter how much you fuck up. And, I know you will do the same for me. Something tells me you will fuck up more than me though. Call it brotherly intuition!

5. Love with your heart wide open. It is the only way to love. Do not be afraid of having your heart broken, it is a muscle and as such, has memory. It will remember how to heal itself and beat stronger for every fracture it incurs.

6. Stay close to mum and dad. They are your past, they shape your future. They are your fan club, your street team, and your champions. They will be there for you in times when you need it most, and appreciate it the least. Their love for us is endless and pure. All good, and all encompassing. Look for love like that, settle for nothing less.

5. Read Steinbeck.

6. DUMP Jonathan. For ALL of the above reasons.

P.S I saw this ring in Ireland when I was over there last month for Matt’s birthday weekend. It’s my birthday present to you. It is called a Claddagh ring (that’s pronounced Clad-ah for those not in the know.) The hands represent friendship, the crown is loyalty and the heart is love. All these things are you, Cass. They are us. Wear it and think of me, I’ll be back before you know it, and you can always come over to Paris and take me out on the town!

And that is it! Well come on, I am only twenty-one for heaven’s sake Cass! The world is yours for the taking. Grasp it with both hands, and shake the shit out of it. This is where it all begins.

               Much love always and forever. Har.x

Cass put the letter aside and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She couldn’t gage how long she sat there, having a truly ugly cry. The light faded outside the window and her nose and eyes were swollen and sore. She fingered the small velvet bag and pulled open the black rope tie. She held the ring in her palm, marvelling at the craftsmanship of it. Sterling silver with a band that became two hands holding a heart. The heart was topped with a crown. In the centre of the heart was a little diamond, their birthstone. Inside the band were the words Grá agus Gáire. What did it mean? Cass tried it on and it fit her middle finger perfectly.
Thank you Harry. I love it; I’ll love it forever.

It was time. Time to face up to everything she was afraid of. The one person she was closing out, was the one person she needed to let inside. He had acted like an idiot, but he was all that was good. All that was decent and real. Rory. She needed to go to him. To tell him it was okay, that she forgave him. And Aoife, Aoife O’Malley who held a living piece of Harry inside her. Cassidy left Harry’s room closing the door softly behind her. She put her hand on the kitchen door, for a moment just standing there and breathing deeply. Pushing it open she was greeted by her parents’ anxious faces. Her dad looked up from his newspaper and her mum was holding on to the kettle, her knuckles white and her face taunt with tension.

“I’m going to Ireland. I’m going to go and meet Aoife O’Malley. Oh, and I’m going to get my Rory back too.”

Her father stood up and walked towards her arms outstretched; her mum was beaming and ran to her, the three of them hugged hard.
This is our family now
, thought Cassidy. This is what is left, and it’s time to move forward.

“Bring me back a lucky clover.” Her dad said in the worse possible imitation of an Irish accent. “Sorry, about that,” he muttered.

Cass sniggered at him. “You’re fine. Bye guys, I love you both.”

“Cassidy,” her mum followed her out to the front door.

“Give Aoife this and tell her we will always think of her and would love to meet her someday.”

Her mum handed her a framed photo of their family, and two letters. One letter addressed to Aoife and one to Louisa and Gearóid O’Malley.

“How did you know I would go?”

“I’m your mother. I know everything.”

One last hug and Cassidy was running down the steps and down the driveway to her car. She needed to get to Gatwick and catch the first flight to Shannon airport. Would he still want to see her? Would he still care? She had to know one way or the other. Driving as quickly as she could through the busy London traffic, she rewrote her speech to him over and over again in her head. She wanted him to understand how she felt about him; one night was not enough for her anymore. She had to make him understand that she was in love with him. Harry’s words swirled around her head.
Grab it with two hands. Love with your heart wide open. It is the only way to
love.
An hour later, she was waiting in Gatwick airport with nothing but her passport and the framed photo of Harry and the letters.
You idiot, Cassidy.
No clothes, no toothbrush nothing. It was too late to turn back now. She would bottle it if she waited too long.
It has to be now; it has to be like this.

(
Rory)

Three things come without asking,

Fear, jealously and love.

Irish proverb

R
ory stared out of the window surveying the land around him. Lush green grass with blocks of limestone dotted through the landscape. Standing at the conservatory window looking out on the hills of Kilvarna always steadied him. This was home, a safe place and yet he felt so lost. Something was missing. Her. She is missing
. Because you broke her and used her for your own ends, ya thick!
He had wanted so much for her to be a good person. A person who would be gentle with Aoife and not make her feel even more guiltier for living because of the death of another.
But, you never counted on loving her did you?
He had never thought for a second that she would crawl under his skin and live there inside him. Why didn’t he just walk away and leave her alone?
Because I couldn’t. I can’t. She is mine and I am hers. There is no other one for me but her, no other skin that matches mine, no other body that is fits mine so perfectly. And no other heart that calls out to mine. Ah, shut up will ya, Rory. Just shut up.

“Are you all right Rory?”

Rory jerked his head up to find Aoife standing with a cup of tea, offering it to him.

“Ya, I’m grand. Just thinking.”

“Don’t damage your brain now will ya.” He smiled, in spite of himself. He never thought he would miss that side of his sister. But, he had. When she was dying, before…before Harry, she had become so quiet. Fading into a shadow of the girl she once was. It was time. Time for some home truths. Time to be the bad guy. And he longed for it. Longed to feel pain on another level. Pain that didn’t come from the piece of his heart that a Devon girl in London, still held.