Page 390 of Manhattan Bossholes

Anil looked skeptical. “You know how we say that in business, it’s better to be flexible and successful than stubborn and a failure, even if you’re right?”

I didn’t like where this was going.

“The same applies to your personal life.”

“Screw you,” I said and hung up.

Catie gave me another judgmental look.

“I know, I know, ‘screw’ is a bad word.”

Catie stood up. “Can I have one of the desserts since you said so many bad words?”

“You cannot,” I said.

She crossed her arms. “It’s past my snack time. I’m hungry.”

I looked at the clock and barely refrained from swearing again. She was right. It was almost dinnertime.

Over at the festival, the kids would be leaving, and the adults would be cranking up the music, lighting the alcohol, and bringing out the whiskey.

The thought of Olivia dancing around a bonfire with some drunken lout was like acid churning in my stomach.

Anil’s advice might have been right in most cases, but not this one. I wasn’t going to betray my father’s memory just because a pretty American asked me to.

I was right about this, and that was what mattered.

Wasn’t it?

“You can go have the strawberry shortcake,” I told Catie. “It’s got fruit, so it’s healthy.”

She perked up and left the room.

I needed to talk to someone who would understand. Anil and Olivia hadn’t known my da. They didn’t get it. So I called my mum and told her the whole story, minus the part about my dating Olivia. “I can’t believe she’d even ask me. It’s disrespectful. And insulting.” My fingers tightened around the phone. I still couldn’t believe she had decided to go, even after everything I’d told her.

She sighed. “Oh Declan. Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh, love?”

I stared at my phone in shock. “Mum, none of your friends would expect you to go.”

“They didn’t expect it, no,” Mum allowed. “But they always invited me, so that I knew I was welcome, whenever I was ready. You know my friend Moe works for Mark—she runs the party every year. And a few years ago, I realized I was ready. So I started going again.”

Had I heard her right?

“What?” I barked. I tried to lower my voice, not wanting her to think I was shouting at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Darling, you can be a wee bit huffy when you think you’re right,” she said gently. “I love you. But you’re my son, not my keeper. I won’t have you trying to control my life the way you do with Sinead.”

I sat down in my office chair, feeling like the world wasn’t as steady under me as I’d thought. Was that what I’d been doing to Sinead? And was I trying to do the same with Olivia? “Mum, I don’t…I don’t control her. If I could, she wouldn’t live across a bloody ocean.”

“That’s why she lives across a bloody ocean,” Mum corrected me. “Remember her first boyfriend, back in secondary school? You kept pointing out he was horrid until she dumped him.”

“He was horrid,” I protested.

“What about the daycare she wanted to send Catie to? You pressured her into sending Catie to a fancier one because you were paying for it,” she reminded me.

“Not fancier,” I said, defending myself. “Better. Shouldn’t Catie have the best?”

Mum sighed. “I’m not saying you’re entirely wrong, Declan. I’ll never forgive Mark O’Rourke. Ever. If I hadn’t had you two to care for, I might have killed him myself after the accident, for taking your da from me.”