Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4
Redeeming 6: Part 5 – Chapter 64

AOIFE

IF I HAD any doubts about Joey Lynch’s willingness to stand by me before this meeting, they were long gone now.

Because, as I sat in the office, listening to my boyfriend go to war for me against our year head and principal, all I could think was ‘thank god he’s mine’.

Having my name added to the dreaded list of girls-who-got-pregnant-in-secondary-school was, by far, one of my most shameful moments, but I could feel nothing but pride when it came to who I was having this baby with.

Haunted and beautiful, Joey sat across the table from me with his mother by his side, looking like he was seconds away from flipping the table.

Yes, he was brash, and yes, he was cursing like a sailor, but his words meant more to me than any well-rehearsed speech ever could.

Because he was speaking from the heart.

Every word he uttered, he meant, and that sentiment soothed something deep inside of me.

Maybe we were going to be okay.

Maybe I could actually do this.

With him.

The situation I found myself in was beyond terrifying, but unlike the other girls from school that had fallen victim to the same hormone-ridden, nine-month-long affliction, my partner is crime was standing by me.

In a weird way, I felt like Rose from Titanic, when all of the other girls were drowning, but Jack kept her afloat. While Joey was no angel, he was loyal and accountable, and a better man than anyone in this room came him credit for.

I felt better just being in his presence.

That’s the kind of person he was.

I listened to our mothers talk back and forth with Mr. Nyhan and Miss Lane for another few minutes, talking about restrictions around me taking part in P.E and so on, but to be honest, Joey had been dead on the money.

This meeting was pointless.

All I had taken away from it was high blood pressure and a dodgy stomach.

“Do you want to go for coffee?” I heard Mam ask Joey’s mother when we reached the school carpark afterwards. “There’s a lovely little café at the corner of main street. We could have a little sit-down together. Mother to mother.”

Both Joey and I, who were walking a few feet behind them, hand in hand, turned to gape at each other.

“Coffee?” he mouthed. “What the fuck?”

“No clue.” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe it’s an olive branch?”

“Or we could go back to my house? I’ve a lovely, fresh madeira cake in the bread bin,” Mam suggested, unlocking the driver’s door of Dad’s transit van. “What do you say, Marie? Coffee and cake, while we dissect the prospect of grand-motherhood?”

Joey’s mam looked like she had just been asked to explain Fermat’s Last Theorem. “Coffee?” Her mouth opened and closed several times before she whispered, “I, uh, I don’t know?”

“Did you drive here?”

“No.” With wide, uncertain blue eyes, she looked up at my mam and shook her head, and the move made her look a lot like her daughter. “I, uh, I walked over here from work.”

“Well, hop in,” Mam instructed, climbing into the driver’s seat of the van. “You can come over to mine for a cuppa and I’ll drive you home afterwards.”

She looked to Joey and shrugged helplessly, almost as if she was looking for permission.

“What do you want to do, Mam?”

“I, ah…” Voice trailing off, she glanced around nervously before taking a step towards the van. “I…” She straightened her frail shoulders then and reached for the passenger door. “Thank you.”

“You two,” Mam called out, as she rolled down the window. “Straight home after the hospital, ya hear? You’re not out of the woods by any stretch of the imagination. I haven’t even started on the lectures.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Joey noted, watching as our mothers drove off in my dad’s van. “That makes me feel really fucking uncomfortable, Molloy.”

“Yeah, I know,” I agreed with a sigh, as I slid my arm around his waist. “But do you want to know something that made me feel really comfortable?”

“Hm?”

“You, Joe.” I smiled up at him. “What you did back there in the office with Mr. Nyhan? What you said? It meant a lot to me.”

He looked down at me, brows furrowed. “I didn’t do anything, Molloy.”

“Yes, you did,” I replied, leaning into his side, as we walked over to my car. “And it meant everything.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, still looking confused. “You driving, baby?”

“Nah.” I shook my head and tossed him the keys. “Can you do something for me?”

“Name it.”

“Stay with me tonight.”

He sighed heavily. “Molloy.”

“Don’t say no.” Sinking into the passenger seat, I tossed my schoolbag over my shoulder into the backseat before turning my attention to Joey, who was cranking the engine. “Say yes.”

“What about the kids?”

“What about you?” I shot back, flicking on the car stereo and nodding my approval when No Doubt’s Underneath It All drifted from the speakers. “This one’s you, Joe.”

“Give it a rest with the songs,” he muttered. “And I’m grand.”

“Your face tells a different story.”

“Aoife.”

“Joey.” I reached across the console and covered the hand he was resting on the gearstick with mine. “Please.”

He didn’t answer me until he had pulled away from the school and was on the main road. Only then did he release a sigh and turn his hand over.

“You win, Molloy.” He entwined his fingers with mine. “Again.”

“Yay.”

“So, are you ready for this?” he asked, attention flicking between my face and the road ahead of us. “To see the baby?”

“No,” I admitted quietly. “Are you?”

“No.” He squeezed my hand. “But we’ve got this, Molloy.”