The following morning,while most of the neighborhood was off to church, Ronan was climbing the steps to his childhood home once again. The twentieth anniversary meant something to all of them. Brendan called a family meeting. Between racking his brain for ways to find answers about his dad and thinking about Chloe, he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. He hoped Mom had a pot of coffee on.
He rapped twice on the front door before pushing it open. “Hey, Mom. Just me.”
She stood in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. The scent of warm cinnamon rolls wafted toward him.
“Good morning,” she said. “Coffee’s ready, but since you’ll probably take the last of it, start a new pot.”
He followed her into the kitchen and drained the pot into a mug. “I’m the first one here?” he asked as he prepared the maker for another pot.
“The twins and Brendan are on their way. Gavin went to the basement to look for something, but I haven’t heard from Declan or Nessa.”
“I don’t suppose you have any insight into how I can convince them that we need answers.” He turned and leaned against the counter and sipped the hot coffee.
She sat at the table and stared at him. “I told you last night that they won’t do anything I don’t agree to.”
“I’m not trying to start a war here. I want them to understand why I can’t go along. I don’t understand why they don’t need answers.”
“Let’s see what they all say when they get here.”
Thumping on the basement steps caught his attention and he turned to see Gavin twist through the door, carrying an old wooden crate.
“Hey,” Ronan called.
“Good to see you.” Turning to their mom, he said, “I assume it’s cool for me to take this junk?”
“I don’t save junk. What’s in there?”
“Rusted old coffee can. A bent framing square. Some other tins and hunks of wood.”
She sighed and didn’t even bother to inspect the contents. “Go ahead.”
“Building your next great sculpture?” Ronan asked.
“Thinking about it. There’s a gallery that wants me to do an installation and I’m toying with the idea of doing something with the contrast of old and new.”
Ronan respected his brother but he didn’t understand most of what he did. The front door opened announcing the arrival of three of his other brothers.
Mom stood. “We should move to the dining room so we can all fit at the table.”
Ronan smiled. The kitchen wasn’t big, but it had always been a gathering place. They would all come in with friends, grab food or drinks, and instead of going to the living room, more often than not, they’d stand around jaw-jacking in the middle of the kitchen.
And it drove Mom nuts. She considered them underfoot, even when they towered over her.
He picked up his cup and went to the dining room table. Mom followed with a heaping plate of cinnamon rolls. He sat with his back to the windows as his brothers filed through. Gavin came in with the coffee pot and mugs.
“I only have two hands, so if you want milk or sugar, get off your ass and get it.” He set everything on the table and took a spot beside Ronan.
Ronan took that as a good sign. Maybe he wasn’t totally alone in this.
Killian poured coffee in the cups and passed them around.
Brendan said, “Should we just get started?”
“What about Declan and Nessa?” Ronan asked.
“Who knows if Declan will show? And I haven’t heard from Nessa either.”
Just then, the front door opened again and Nessa and Declan came through.
“Sorry we’re late. Someone had a hard time getting his ass in gear this morning. Anything before eleven is iffy for him.”
Declan rolled his eyes at their baby sister. Then he plopped into a chair and grabbed a cinnamon roll. “You’re a saint, Mom,” he said with a mouthful of food.
“Now that we’re all here,” Brendan began, “I’m sure you all know why I called a family meeting.”
“Because you want to make decisions for everyone like you’re the king of the world,” Ronan muttered.
“It’s been twenty years since dad disappeared. Mom could have declared him dead more than a decade ago. It doesn’t make sense to not finish this.”
“We still don’t know what happened to him.”
“Uh, he took off.” Declan shot him a look that said he thought Ronan was stupid.
“He didn’t.”
“Then where the hell has he been for twenty years?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does it matter?” Declan asked. “He wasn’t here. That says enough.”
Gavin, who was typically pretty quiet, said, “Declaring him years ago would’ve made sense for Mom to get money. We’re all grown. What difference does it make?”
Ronan didn’t know what side of the argument that was supposed to help. Brenden grunted.
“I think what Gavin means is that what can it hurt to wait a while longer?” Kieran added.
Him, Gavin, and Kieran on one side, Brendan, Declan, and Killian on the other.
He looked at Nessa. “You haven’t said anything.”