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Despite being closed, the noise level in the pub currently rivaled that of St. Patrick’s Day when the place was filled to the rafters with the local patrons.
The Collins family had grown too large over the past few years to celebrate holidays together in someone’s house, so they’d moved the festivities to the pub.
Pop Pop had always closed the pub on Thanksgiving, even though many other restaurants stayed open, claiming it was one of the best business days of the year.
Pop Pop insisted holidays were for family, not for making a buck. And since taking over the management of the pub and Sunday’s Side, Colm’s dad, Tris, Aunt Keira, and Uncle Ewan had kept up that same policy, closing so that the whole family could be together.
Looking around the room, Colm couldn’t help but smile and feel blessed. Hunter and Uncle Sky were playing their guitars, a bunch of the little kids dancing around, laughing at the silly songs they were making up.
His mom and aunts were sitting around one large table, drinking wine, reminiscing about past holidays.
His dad and Pop Pop and uncles were sitting at the bar, watching football on the big screen, alternating between cheering or shouting at the refs.
They’d already done the eternal “say what you’re thankful for” deal prior to eating the meal. As the family continued to grow, the time it took for everyone to have their turn to speak had expanded exponentially.
Pop Pop always started it, lifting a bottle of Jameson and demanding everyone’s attention.
It usually took a few minutes to quiet the crowd, but once everyone saw the Jameson, the conversations would end and they’d all turn to Pop Pop.
Pop Pop said the same thing every year. His grandfather was grateful for the roof over his head and the food in his belly, but most of all, he was thankful for the greatest family a man could ever ask for. Those words never failed to put a lump in Colm’s throat.
Then Pop Pop would lift the bottle of whiskey, take a sip, and pass it on. After that, everyone took a turn, sharing what they were thankful for that year before drinking the whiskey.
Colm had said he was grateful for his thriving practice, for his mom and dad and brother. Like Pop Pop, he typically said the same thing every year as well. But this year, he made an addition…saying he was also very thankful for blackouts.
Then he took a drink of the whiskey and passed the bottle before anyone could question him on it, though he caught the knowing expression on Sunnie’s face and the curious one on Padraig’s.
Kelli admitted she’d told Sunnie, Darcy, and Yvonne about their blackout adventure on Halloween, and he’d gotten the sense she thought he’d be upset by that.
In truth, Colm had secretly been pleased that she wasn’t trying to hide what they’d done. For some reason, it had given him hope that she would soon come to accept what he already knew. The curse had struck and there was no going back now.
He knew things weren’t exactly clear sailing. Neither of them had brought up her desire for a baby, but Colm didn’t believe for a minute Kelli had changed her mind. Nor should she.
The only thing he wanted to do was convince her to reconsider whose baby she would be carrying. If she was on the same page as him…that would be simple. Because he was already planning their future together.
Kelli still hadn’t caught up. Which meant he had his work cut out for him. And then some.
“You haven’t been around much the past week. Work keeping you busy?” Padraig asked.
“Not really,” Colm said. He’d actually been leaving work early and going over to Kelli’s apartment after work every single day since Friendsgiving. At some point, he was going to have to figure out how to work a full day without succumbing to the need to be with her. As it was, his new normal consisted of hightailing it across town so that he was in the apartment and waiting for her when she got home from school.
Of course, given the way Kelli tackled him within two seconds of dropping her bag by the door, he’d say she was suffering the same unending, aching desire to be with him as well.
Padraig waited for him to explain, but Colm didn’t.
“So,” Padraig said. “Blackouts?”
Colm chuckled, surprised his twin had managed to hold that question in for so long.
“Blackouts,” Colm repeated, adding nothing else. He liked to make his brother work for things.
And Padraig, bless him, always took the bait. “Care to elaborate.”
Colm hadn’t purposely kept Padraig in the dark about Kelli. The truth was, he simply hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to him. But even as he considered that, he couldn’t help but wonder how Padraig would respond. After all, it was Padraig who’d broken up all the fights between him and Kelli when they were growing up. “I slept with Kelli that night.”
“My Kelli?”
Colm sighed. He really was going to have to break his brother of that habit. “My Kelli,” he corrected.
