Page 2 of Scarred Trust

“An act of nature?” Gran asked as I rolled the bucket across the room, leaving a trail in the large firefighter footprints along the way.

“Basically. These are general documents I’m not normally involved with, but we’ve been short-handed, so I’m being a ‘team player’. I’m sure it’s just a typo that I’m making a big deal over. I need to just give them my comments and move on.” Starting in the farthest corner, I scrubbed at the ceiling and walls to clear any remaining soot. Thankfully, we had a mop set aside for our monthly deep clean for this purpose. At least it was something on the to-do list I could check off ahead of time.

“You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate,” Gran said, lifting the tarp on the table across from the ovens. She straightened my piles of papers from ABS that stood on the same table as the bowls and utensils from the bread that was still baking in the oven.

“The renovation took all we had, Gran. I don’t mind filling in for Pete while he’s on paternity leave. It’s only temporary.” I had chosen to specialize in real estate law specifically when big businesses came after my family’s restaurant in the name of gentrification. It didn’t stop my parents from having to pour every dime into meeting all the requirements.

“Like that apartment of yours? You need a place of your own. Somewhere to get away from all of this.” I stopped and looked at her, ready for the usual discussion. She only wanted the best for me, but she didn’t know how much I was really giving up for the pub.

“I wish I could, but I’ve been covering the insurance premiums.” I hoped she understood that since my main role for Duffy’s was accounting and legal, the implication was that my parents weren’t aware of the payments. Gran pressed her lips together, and I watched the fight fall away from her expression. She turned back to the stove, scrubbing at the stainless steel surface like she had a personal vendetta against it.

Chapter 2

“HEY, MAMA.” I LEANED down and kissed my mother on the way to the sink to get a glass of water and a towel to wipe off the sweat from my run.

“Good morning, sweetie. Are you just getting back from work? That was a long shift.” She sat in the same wobbly chair in the same position at the white linoleum table with nicks from my childhood. Gripped in her hands was her favorite cup, filled with her creamy coffee that had probably gone cold. A folded newspaper lay in the spot across from her, just like it had every day since my father had died. This is how she started her days, talking to Dad until she could rouse herself to move on with her day.

“Another one of the old buildings got hit. Luckily, no one was hurt this time.” I circled the table and took my designated place across from where my brother used to sit.

“How many is that now?” Her voice was calm, and even like she was asking about the weather. She looked closely at me, probably measuring every micro expression, knowing I wouldn’t want to worry her by admitting anything.

“That would make eight over the past two years.” I didn’t need to mention the number of victims, since that statistic lived and breathed in every part of our home.

“Are you still going ahead with the investigation?” We’d had this conversation many times over the past year. As always, there was no judgement in her question, even though she knew as well as I did that there would be repercussions if I did.

“I have to do this for Dad and Connor.” My mind wandered downstairs to the wall my father had covered with details about every incident, including the flashover from which I was still struggling to fully recover.

“They would want you to live your life.” She took a sip of her coffee, hopefully reminding herself of the same advice. Not that I hadn’t said so a dozen times, but we both needed reminders as we navigated a world that felt half empty.

“I am, Mama.”

“How’s Duffy’s pub faring these days?”

“Are you asking about the incident last week? It was a non-issue. I’m not sure how you even heard about it.”

“Your captain told me over lunch the other day.”

“Are you dating him?”

“He checks in on me occasionally. As your dad’s best friend, Grayson and I became close as well. The question is what you are doing about that, darling Caitríona.”

“Nothing. Why would you even ask?”

“Because I heard you were laughing and smiling with her. Something no one else has managed in the past year.” I wasn’t the only one. The days had been difficult, and my mother’s face was still etched with pain and grief.

“It was hard not to. Imagine petite Caitríona, barefoot on one of the kitchen worktables, reaching up on her tiptoes, waving a giant baking sheet at the ceiling, hoping to clear a roomful of smoke.”

“Oh, the poor girl. I’m glad you were there to scoop her up before she fell.” My mom’s sparkling giggle filled the room.

“She’s not a girl anymore and very much grown up since we went to school together. I was never anything but a jock to her. She was way out of my league back then. Still is, from what I saw.”

“I had always hoped you two would wind up together.”

“Even if I had any interest, I doubt she’s single.”

“Last time I talked to her grandmother, Sorcha, she was saying how Caitríona needed to slow down and make time to find a good man.”

“I hope that for her too, but that’s not me. After what Ari said...”