I didn't give it too much thought as I made my way through the house. Probably had some money left over and needed another fix. Or, he probably met up with the guys for some beers. God knew what my dad did in his spare time, I certainly didn't care. Even though it was a bit earlier than usual for him to be up and around, at least he was out of my hair.
I made a pot of coffee and sat down at the tiny kitchen table. The fridge was empty, so breakfast would just be coffee this morning. I comforted my grumbling tummy knowing that once I got some tips, I could grab something at the diner on break at least. It was one benefit of working at a restaurant.
With a cup of warm coffee in my hands, I walked into the living room and kicked aside some of the empty, crushed beer cans. The living room was disgusting, I normally didn't come in there since it was where my father usually camped out, but since dad was gone, some TV time on the couch sounded nice. I plopped down in his spot and reached for the remote. That's when I realized something was different.
The room was emptier. Not in an obvious way that you'd notice right away, but something was different. It was a small, subtle change. It wasn't like the TV or the valuables were missing – not that we had much of real value – but, there was an emptiness that hadn't existed before.
Now that I was sitting there looking around, alerted to the change, I realized the pile of dad's clothes in the corner by the couch was all gone. Completely. Laundry day? I cocked an eyebrow as I raised the hot mug to my lips. Normally, I did all of the laundry around the house. But, maybe he'd gone down to the laundromat and decided to do his own wash for a change. It seemed really odd and out of character, but anything was possible, I supposed.
The longer I sat there though, the more I realized that wasn't it. I scanned the room and noticed a few photos missing from the wall. Photos of Mom and me. My heart raced as I stared at the empty spaces on the wall. Why would the pictures be gone now? After all these years? There were white squares on the dingy wall where the photos had once been, making their absence all the more noticeable.
I stood up, and furiously started searching the room. I looked for my dad's wallet. Gone. His shoes and his boots. Gone. I rushed to the closet in the hall and threw the door open, only to find the suitcases we had inside were also gone.
My dad had left. He just up and left me without a word. I turned and searched the room for any sign of a note, some reason for him leaving – for something. I grabbed my phone to call him, but then stopped when I remembered his phone had been shut off months ago. I'd stopped paying it and was now kicking myself. With no way to reach him, I felt utterly lost. I didn't know his friend's numbers. I didn't even know their names.
My heart sunk, and my eyes burned with tears.
All these months caring for him, all the sacrifices I'd made in order to keep a roof over his head, hoping my real father would return to me – and he was gone. He left me, without even saying goodbye.
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and my blood boiled. I was caught somewhere between anger and hurt and couldn't decide which emotion was more powerful than the other. I wanted to fall down and sob my eyes out, but at the same time, I also wanted to punch something. My fists were balled up at my sides, and I paced the room, a scream building up inside of me.
Finally, when I'd had enough, I pounded my fist into the wall and let that scream out. I screamed long and loud, all of my pain and all of my frustration echoing around the house. Tears fell down my cheeks as I slid to the floor, my knuckles feeling like I'd broken them. I didn't care, though.
The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the pain I felt inside.
CHAPTER THREE
DECLAN
Meredith and my niece and nephews were crowded around Jack, all of them looking at the infant with wide eyes and wider smiles. I sat across from them on the couch, Killian beside me. My insides were churning with thoughts and emotions I had no idea how to begin processing. I'm sure I sat there looking like an idiot with a look of stunned shock on my face.
If anybody even noticed, they didn't say anything though. They were all focused on the baby. It hadn't even been a day, and Jack had already been welcomed into the family like he'd always been a part of it. Meredith held the baby in her arms, cooing at him with a big grin on her face.
Ava, my niece, sat beside her and stroked his red hair – the same color as the hair on her own head. Meredith was a more traditional redhead – a true ginger – which meant all the kids were redheaded, even the boys, Keaton and Cole. Keaton looked like his dad, and technically me I guessed, with more brown than red, but Cole had the orange-red ginger locks of his mother.
Poor kid. Gingers never really fared that well back when I'd gone to school. They were always singled out, mocked, and bullied, just because of some fluke of genetics. Hopefully though, the times had changed. Especially since I now had one of my own.
“You can stay as long as you like,” Meredith said, her bright, blue eyes staring back at me as she kissed Jack's forehead. “I've been wanting another baby in the house for some time, but Killian says three's enough.”
“It's more than enough,” he chuckled and then took a sip from his coffee mug. “We should have stopped at one.”
He winked at his children. Ava, the oldest, smiled brightly. She was daddy's little girl, through and through. She might not be able to run the family business in the future, but she held the key to her father's heart. Keaton and Cole, the twins, didn't even seem to notice their father's tease.
“Seriously, it's been too long since we've had a baby in this house,” she said.
Keaton and Cole were four. Ava was six. Many parents might be enjoying their freedom from diapers and sleepless nights, but Meredith always had this look in her eyes when she was around babies – she wanted a large family. Three, in her mind, w
as most definitely not enough.
Killian would eventually give in to her. I knew he would as sure as I knew my own name. He loved that woman more than life itself, and while we might disagree on a lot of things pertaining to family, he was one hell of a dad. I would give him all the credit in the world for that. From where I sat, not that I had any experience, mind you, he made fatherhood look easy – he was certainly better at it than our own dad was.
Killian's eyes narrowed as he looked me. “So what are you doing for work, Declan?”
I shrugged. “Just picking up odd jobs now and then,” I said.
My brother knew what I did, his family did not. I didn't want to get into the details in front of his kids. Better to not ruin their happy little family with talk of that.
“If you'd like something more stable, now that you have a kid to provide for, I can put you to work,” he said.