Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) (27 page)

Since I was already in America, we had to go through an adjustment of status process rather than through the consulate back home for an immigration visa. As part of this process, there was an interview. Basic questions, nothing too exciting or scary… so long as it was Frank and not Larry doing the interviewing.

Frank was the good cop to Larry’s bad cop. Frank sorta made me think he was maybe kinda pulling for us, which actually made me feel a little bit guilty because none of this was real.

Larry, though…
Larry was a fuckhead. And worse, he was actually Frank’s supervisor. So he was a fuckhead with power. Thankfully, it was Frank asking me the questions right then.

“What was the first thing you noticed about your wife?”

When Frank asked me that question, for a second I saw her standing there in the doorway at Tech. The rich reddish-brown of her hair, the bright blue of her eyes, and the way she said “
shit.”
It all brought a smile to my face. It could’ve been an Oscar worthy performance, but, in all reality, it came naturally.

“She was touring Tech and got lost. I can’t even really describe how it felt when I first saw her. She walked into the lab, cursed, and started to walk out.” My chest felt kind of full at that moment, and a little achy too, as I continued. “When I first spoke, she froze. It was my accent, you see. It reminded her of her grandfather.”

“There’s a lot of Irish in Butte, but not so many that talk quite like you.”

I shrugged with a smile. “Yeah I’ve kind of noticed.”

Frank smiled and looked back down at his list. “What did you buy her for her last birthday?”

“We have never really been together for either one of our birthdays,” I murmured. “I remember one, though, when she was dating someone else. He was a friend of mine, and was trying to figure out something to get for her. I making suggestions since he was feeling guilty because, once again, he had slept around.”

“Did he do that a lot?” Frank asked.

I nodded. “A fair bit.”

“And what did you think about that?”

I thought about his question for a few minutes, thinking how much I had hated it at the time, that Trent would do that to her. He had no idea just exactly what kind of awesomeness he held in his hands. And that he was willing to risk it… that just blew my mind.

There were very few people I trusted with how I felt about her. Brannon was really the only one, and even that had been the result of a drunken cathartic confession, something to try and ease the torture my feelings put me through. But as I sat there and looked at Frank, I realized it not only would likely help my case to tell him how I really felt about her all those years, but it might ease my conscience. It might relieve some of the pent-up guilt, some of the undying affection that never seem to fade.

So I took a deep breath and started to spill my guts.

“I hated it,” I began. “I even kinda hated him for it, because I’ve wanted her ever since I first saw her.”

Frank sat back and looked at me curiously, silently coaxing me to continue.

“I wanted to ask her out, that very first day I met her, but I didn’t because she wasn’t eighteen yet. Then the next time I saw her, she was with him.”

“He didn’t know that you liked her?” Frank asked.

“Nobody knew. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time.”

“Did she have feelings for you, too?”

I paused before I answered.

“I think so,” I finally replied. “She seemed to when we first met, and there were a couple times when we were alone together. It was always purely platonic, but it felt like there was so much more there.”

“But you never made a move on her.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I couldn’t.” I shook my head and frowned. “See, he had done a lot for me, for my band. He’d been a good friend and, at first I think, he was probably a good boyfriend to her. He had a hard time with monogamy, but he would have lost his mind if he’d known I wanted her. He was very possessive that way.”

“When was the first time something
did
happen between the two of you?”

“Right after he died. I kissed her…”

Frank was quiet for a few minutes, thinking carefully about what I said. “How did that change your relationship? Did you guys start dating then?”

“No, I pushed her away. We didn’t even speak for a couple years,” I replied. “I saw her a few times, but I didn’t talk to her.”

“Tell me about one of those times.”

“My roommate, Justin, is an engineering instructor at Montana Tech. The year she graduated with her bachelor’s degree, I made some silly excuse to go with him to commencement.” I smiled, remembering the pride I felt for her that day. “She was the valedictorian. Feckin’ smart… she was so feckin’ smart.”

Frank cocked his head curiously. “But you didn’t talk to her?”

“She looked happy,” I said wistfully. “She wouldn’t have stayed happy if I went and talked to her.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

But I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Over the next couple weeks, we sort of settled into the way of things. Fliss was offered and accepted a job from her interviews, a social services position with the Department of Health and Human Services. It was a state job with a good salary and great health insurance. Granted, it was in Butte, but Butte was only a twenty-minute drive from Ophir.

I found myself on the highway making that twenty-minute drive one morning, heading to pick up some supplies to work on a welding project that had come my way. As I drew closer to Butte, I debated calling Fliss. I just kinda wanted to see her. The more I thought about it, the stronger the urge became.

I debated it as I crossed into the city limits, as I drove across town, and as I pulled up in the car park next to her office building. I even debated it as I headed up the lift to her floor. Once I reached her office, I didn’t need to call because there she was.

She didn’t see me at first, didn’t realize I was there. Sitting with a kid who looked a bit worse for the wear, she listened as the young fella talked.

“I hate him,” the kid said vehemently. “He can’t even take care of himself, much less me and my sister.”

“He’s sick,” Fliss replied, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. “I truly think he loves you. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t think any parent truly wants to hurt their child. He’s just got some stuff that he’s going through right now, stuff he can’t handle. That’s why you’re here… so we can make sure you’re safe.”

“What if it’s worse, though?” the kid argued. “I don’t want to be a foster kid. Nobody wants us.”

“There are people who really do want to help you.”

“I’ve heard so many bad things,” he said, shaking his head. “One of the kids I know at school is in foster care. He said they aren’t very nice to him. At least at home, I know there are things I can do to take care of my sister.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Fliss replied. “You’re only nine years old, Austin. You’re a kid. You shouldn’t have to be a grown-up yet. You should be out riding your bike or playing on your Xbox, staying up too late watching cartoons… things that other kids your age do. You shouldn’t be worried about making sure your dad is lying on his side so he won’t choke if he throws up. You shouldn’t be waiting up for him to stumble in so you can lock the door behind him. You shouldn’t be afraid that his friends are going to come into your house and hurt you and your sister.”

“But what if the foster family doesn’t like us? What if they just want us for the money?”

Fliss lifted her hand up to the kid’s dirty cheek. She spoke sincerely, with a calm that made my heart swell. “I know this lady, Austin. I’ve known her since I was a little kid. She’ll take one look at you and your sister, and she’ll see someone who needs what she can give you. She will take care of you, she will love you. I can speak from experience.”

Austin narrowed his eyes at her. “You were a foster kid?”

“I still had my dad,” Fliss said, shaking her head, “but this woman is very special to me. She used to take care of me a lot when I was a little kid. A babysitter, but sort of like a mother. Something I really needed since mine was gone.”

“Did your mom leave like mine?” The boy’s voice was small, sounding comforted by the knowledge that Fliss knew first-hand what kind of person would be taking care of him.

“Sorta,” Fliss replied, not going into detail, but showing him her own sense of loss, something that they had in common. Something that made her more real to him. More trustworthy. “But Mrs. O’Leary was so warm and sweet and loving. She will be for you, too. I can promise you that. And while she’s taking care of you, your dad will be getting help. He’ll be working really hard to get cleaned up so that he can be the dad you need.”

The kid dropped his gaze, frowning for a minute before he looked back up and eyed her speculatively. “Will you check on us?” he asked.

“Every day,” Fliss smiled, “and you can always talk to me. You can call me or email or text. If you need anything, I’ll be there for you.”

Finally, the kid gave a hesitant nod.

“Your sister is in there with her,” Fliss said. “Are you ready to go meet her now?”

The kid thought for a minute, then nodded again, a little more sure of himself this time. Fliss stood, waiting for him to do the same. Then, with her arm around his shoulder, she began to guide him out of her office.

She looked up as they stepped through the door into the waiting room and saw me sitting there.

“Denny?” she gasped, appearing a bit gobsmacked at seeing me standing there in her office.

The kid looked up at me, over Fliss, and back at me with a wary glint in his eyes. Catching herself, Fliss quickly smiled down at him in reassurance. Austin, however, continued to stare at me with a guarded look.

“It’s okay, Austin,” she murmured, “this is my husband, Denny. I was just surprised to see him. I wasn’t expecting him to stop by.”

At first, I just kept hearing her voice over and over calling me her
husband
. It made me feel a lot better than it really should have.

“Howya, Austin,” I said.

When I spoke, the kid’s expression changed and he cocked his head to the side. He leaned up to Fliss and whispered loudly in her ear.

“He talks funny.”

Fliss grinned down at him and ruffled his hair. “He’s Irish.”

“So am I,” Austin said, “but I don’t talk like that.”

“Yes,” she nodded, “but you grew up in Butte. Denny actually grew up in Ireland.”

The kid’s eyes went wide. “You mean he’s not an American then?”

Fliss looked up at me with a faint smile touching her lips. “We’re working on that.”

I kinda couldn’t help but to smile back.

“Anyway, you look busy, so I’ll let ya get to it.” I started to turn away, then stopped and looked back at her. “Do ya want to grab some lunch in a bit, though?”

A faint myriad of emotions passed over Fliss’ features. She looked happy and then nervous, then bit her lip pensively before she smiled again. “Yeah. It will probably be a good hour or so before we’ve got things kind of straightened out here, but I’d love to.”

“I’ll do my runnin’ around and come back then,” I said.