Page 37 of Alfie: Part One

I knew we shared some traits. He was a few years older than me, and the concept of having a big brother was laughable. I’d always been alone. I’d asked for a baby brother one time, and it’d taken me years to understand that there were several reasons why they’d opted to stay at one kid. Ma had finally met a man she loved with all her heart, and she wanted to spend time with him. Dad had worked way too much, running his construction business, so it was a timing thing too. Money, of course. Kids weren’t cheap.

Today, I could sort of understand it from their perspective. They’d given me everything they could, and now they had the time and money to be selfish.

They liked to go to Atlantic City and Florida on the weekends. Dad loved to fish. Ma loved the penny slots.

Personally? I wanted shit big and loud.

After grabbing the bag I usually packed for our beach days, I ushered the kids toward the main door at the front of the house. Maybe they used the same gardening service as West.

I’d been clueless about what to bring, because in my family, you brought food. But since I didn’t know how many would be here, I’d ended up buying a bottle of wine for only Emilia O’Shea. Finn could take the joke. To put up with him, she needed a drink every now and then. Right?

We had no time to ring the doorbell before a burly man opened it and eyed me up and down. The guy who’d buzzed us in, maybe? We looked to be the same age.

“Hello, is Daddy’s cousin home?” Ellie asked.

I chuckled.

“Aye, they’re all in the back.” Okay, so he was legit Irish. Accent and all. “I’m Colm.” His name was very familiar to me. He worked closely with the O’Sheas, and he was in charge of security. He shifted his gaze back to me as he opened the door wider. “You come heavy?”

What the fuck? To a barbecue with children all around? No, I fucking didn’t.

“Uh, no.”

“Good.” He jerked his chin, gesturing for us to go in. “Patio access through the kitchen past the staircase.”

He seemed fun.

I decided we could become best friends later instead. We weren’t vibing at the moment.

Okay, this house looked way better than the one West and I had bought. I’d expected white and sterile but was greeted by a foyer in rustic colors and family pictures everywhere. No fucking marble, just wood and warmth.

And music. They were blasting Dropkick Murphys out back, which instantly put me in a good mood.

“Oh my gosh, it’s a party, Daddy,” Ellie whispered excitedly.

Past the big staircase, we veered right into a large kitchen, where the decorator had been inspired by the French countryside. The island was packed with food.

A beat later, a young woman walked in from the patio, and she smiled warmly.

“You must be Alfie!” She poked her head out the patio doors again. “Finnegan! Alfie’s here!”

I glanced out the kitchen window above the sink, but it only offered a glimpse. Big backyard, big pool.

“Momma!” someone screamed.

“Daddy, look at me now!” another hollered. “You too, Grandpa!”

“I’ll be right back, baby—okay, fine,” the woman laughed. It had to be Emilia. “Come here.”

In the meantime, I dug out the wine and hoped I didn’t make a fool of myself. I couldn’t say I was too nervous, but I wasn’t unfazed either. A lot was riding on this, and I knew the importance of collecting brownie points with Finn’s wife.

Within seconds, Emilia had a bouncing toddler on her hip, and she came over to us.

“Finnegan’s manning the grill, so make yourselves comfortable—and there’re drinks and snacks on the patio.” She extended her hand to me. “It’s great to meet you, Alfie. I’m Emilia.”

“Hi!” The little boy waved.

“Hi, little man.” I smiled and shook Emilia’s hand. “Great to meet you too. This is for you. I was thinking—considering who you’re married to…”