“Well, if ye’re being bad, sweetheart,” Mam replies.
“But it’sfunnnny!”
“Alright, back to the hair stuff?” I cut in, pressing my palm over Mia’s mouth. Instantly, I let her go and run my gooey hand over my pant leg.
“Mommy told Nan about the uhhh . . .”
“Deep conditioning, Mia,” Mam assists, smacking her on the butt. “Wash yer mouth and bring yer da a wet face towel. Leith, didye feed the girl?”
“Aye, Mam. We had cheeseburgers for breakfast.” I narrow an eye at my wee minion as she slinks into the bathroom.
“I had the feeling this bairn ate well. Good thing she grows vertically, not horizontally like my side of the clan.” Mam picks up pillows, stripping the linen and tossing them into a much neater pile on the floor. Mia returns with a cold, wet towel for me that she hasn’t rung out.
I rub it across my forearms as Mam scolds her. “Mia, get yerself some milk to wash down yerpiece,then I’ll rinse yer hair, yeah?”
When my lassie rushes out the room, I ask, “Wit’sthis deep conditioning stuff?”
“Och, Chevelle told me she explained it toye ahunnertimes, Leith! Were it a discussion ‘bout computers, ye would remember!” Mam whacks me with a naked pillow then tosses it into the pile. “My wee bairn has bonny hair. I aim to keep it that way. I watched it on YouTube. Chevelle texted it to me a while back. I’ll try to find it for ye.”
“I dinna need a video to tell me anything, Mam. I have ye, and Chevelle,” I reply, starting out of her bedroom. I laugh to myself. I know how to deep condition Mia’s hair. Also, I’m a pro at taking out braids—but my mam doesn’t need to know all of that.
“Witabout when nae lass is around to help?” she asks, following me.
Moving down a hall lined with family portraits, I snicker. “Then I just push her hair around with my fingers. Fluff it, ya know?” I stop and see Mam isn’t following me. She looks distant as she stares at the photos.
“Leith, I need more bairnsrunning around. Lots and lots of bairns! And that’s another thing. I need my bairnsnot to associate leprechauns with Scottish folklore.”
I disregard the bairn stuff. “When it comes to leprechauns, we’ve had this discussionlots, Mam. Mia just likes wee,arsefacemen.”
“Dinnamake a joke out of this.” She places her hands on her hips. “Ye know what I want. Give me what I want, Leith.”
With a sigh, I shuffle down the white oak stairs. “Och, Brody’ll give ya a half-pint. How ‘bout that?”
“Nae.” Mam tries to keep up, breathing heavily with each step. “He hasn’t introduced neither I nor Big Brody to a respectable lass. Nohalf-pintsfrom his loins.”
I smile wickedly, stalling to let her catch up. When she’s a few steps away, I jump from the second landing of the split staircase onto the walnut wood floor. Arching a brow, I look up at her. “Camdyn, then?”
“Damn ye, Leith!” She’s huffing and puffing as I stroll past the massive dining room. “I’ll catch up to ye. If Cam brings a lassie home before a high school diploma, I’ll strangle him myself.”
I’m about twenty yards away when Mam appears at the opposite end of the spacious sitting room. Placing my hands on my hips, I joke. “Mam, guess that means I’ll have to come through for ye real soon.”
“Are ye saying?” Her plump cheeks alight like Christmas. Hiding a devilish smile, I wait for her to come near.
I clasp her beaming face. “Mam, I was just—”
“Is Chevelle?” She clasps her hands together.
I kiss her forehead. “Only takes once.”
“Get to it, then!” She swats at me as I laugh.
We continue down the expansive corridor into the kitchen where Da stands at the end of a long island. The furnishings are darker in here, with blue cabinets and vast wood countertops. At the breakfast nook and around the area are more of my cousins. They seem to be talking business.Shite, I’m adamant about Mia staying unaware of clan activity.
Mindful of my wishes, Da has switched to code words. He’s briefing them onorganic foodbeing taken from MacKenzie Freight to the east coast where the McFarlands rule. Our trucking company has transported all sorts of merchandise. Last time food was an analogy, one of my idiot cousins mentioned sweets. It sparked Mia’s curiosity. Mywean’saverse to all thingsorganic. So, the boring word flips around like hotcakes today.
When she reaches into the Viking refrigerator, Brody’s there to scoop her up. Our clan is compiled of all lads, so every shelf is loaded. Her tiny sticky fingers trail over it all until Brody hands her a glass bottle of Martinelli’s.
I listen in. It seems to be a big drug run. My cousin, Knox, theeejitand occasional fireman, says he’ll be driving his muscle car.