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downstairs.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
     
    Fin ran his finger around the inside of the handle of his mug. Pat’s leg bounced under the table, shaking it slightly. Mavis bustled around behind him, even though Fin knew the kitchen was clean. Katie had seen to that. None of them were how he remembered from eight years before. Pat had been jovial, Mavis easy going, Katie an awkward, quiet teenager.
     
    “You say the old place is gone?” Pat said after the tense silence.
     
    “An American family bought my mom’s family home and they own the land where your families’ cottages were.” Rose had run up the hills, laughing, her hair streaming in the breeze. Someday he wanted to take his children there…Fin crossed his arms. He was a confirmed bachelor, only an uncle, not a dad.
     
    “Never were much to look at,” Pat said.
     
    “They were close to my mom’s. I’m surprised you all didn’t know each other better.”
     
    “We kept to our own.”
     
    “You too Mavis?” Fin said. He’d never cared much about the past but the last year he’d begun to wonder if it wasn’t time to unearth more of the truth.
     
    “I was hardly there,” Mavis said. She reorganized the refrigerator. “I spent most of my childhood with my aunt and uncle on their farm then went to college in Cork.” She placed the milk back on the shelf and shut the door. “Fin, Katie doesn’t need to know--”
     
    “What don’t I need to know?” Katie asked as she appeared in the doorway. She crossed her arms. The sour look on her face reminded Fin of Maureen telling him how the kids used to tease Katie, calling her dill pickle Dillon. And that was the least of it. She was much prettier when she smiled; her sweet face brightened and her eyes sparkled like the sunrise reflected in a glistening creek. Prettier than any Cinderella, even when she frowned. He scooted back around and faced Pat, who scowled.
     
    “It’s not important,” Mavis said. “Rose all right?”
     
    “Yes,” Katie said. “I didn’t know we knew the Dunbars before they moved here. I mean, I know you knew of Mary, but…you knew them in San Francisco?”
     
    “Only a little,” Mavis said.
     
    “You left your three- and five-year-old daughters with someone you only knew a little? So you could vacation in Ireland?”
     
    “It wasn’t a vacation. My mother had died and your aunt Aleen and I--”
     
    “What about Dad?”
     
    “Enough questions,” Pat said as he scraped his chair out. “We’d better get to bed. Rose’ll be up early and there’s church. Good to see you, Fin.” Pat nodded at him and Fin stood to shake his hand. Mavis hugged him again. They all stood near Katie, who hadn’t moved. She blocked the doorway. She had her dad’s stubbornness, Fin guessed. “Say goodnight,” Pat commanded.
     
    Katie’s shoulders sagged. No wonder she ran herself down--Pat treated her like a disobedient puppy. “Night,” she said. Her light brown eyes were flecked with gold and green like a sandy creek bed and just as full of hidden treasures if Fin searched long enough. Her mom hugged her waist and led her out into the hall. Pat and Fin followed. Katie and Mavis walked up the stairs as Pat opened the front door for Fin.
     
    “Maybe we’ll see you soon,” Pat said.
     
    “Sure.” Fin caught a last glimpse of Katie’s petite, curvy self as she trudged onto the landing. He wouldn’t let himself look longer. Waving, he walked to Maggie’s Honda Accord. She’d been kind enough to let him borrow it, but she needed it back in the morning. Maggie’d be going to church too. His whole life, Maggie’d been with his family, their housekeeper, cook, and nursemaid, but no matter what, she never missed church. For once, he wanted to go. How much better to sit in church and watch Katie than face his parents. He slammed the car door. Better not to notice Katie at all. He was in enough trouble with Fergus and their