Christmas With the Cunninghams: A Mavericks Novella Read online

  Waving him off, Patrick mumbled looking back up at the television. “And your ma won’t even let me have a beer,” he shook his head in aggravation and Shay bit back the urge to laugh.

  “You’re still on pain meds, Pops. You can’t drink.”

  Mumbling off a few more choice words, Shay laughed picking at the label of his water bottle. His pops was something else that was for sure. And he only hoped he could be half the man that he was someday.

  “Ya got a real good lady in there,” his pops reached out, patting his hand. “And I know she’s gonna take care of you just fine.”

  That was good to hear. But if anyone was going to be taking care of anybody, it was going to be him taking care of Whitney and Quinn. Everyday. Being the man that they both needed. That they deserved.

  “I’m proud of ye’ baby boy.”

  Lifting his head, he stared back at his pops, his green eyes heavy from which he assumed was too much pain medication. It had been a long time since he heard his pops say that.

  I’m proud of you.

  Up until recently he really hadn’t done much to make his pops proud of. Before Whitney he’d allowed his relationship with Rory to keep him from coming home and seeing his family. A long line of women, partying and excessive living had occupied his time outside of being on the football field, but Whitney had changed all that. Had forced him to stop hiding. To stop punishing himself for an accident that nearly left him and Rory for dead. She had also made him want to be a better man.

  For his family.

  For Quinn.

  For her.

  Snickering, Shay shook him off. His pops was definitely on too many pain meds.

  “Hey,” his father barked, grabbing his attention again. “The only reason I agreed to have this bloody surgery in the first place is because your mother deserves to travel.”

  Agreeing, Shay swiped his hand across his mouth slowly. Yes, his mother did deserve that. She had dedicated her entire life to him and his brothers. She deserved that and more.

  “And to come see you play.”

  Lifting his eyes again, Shay looked back at his pops, his eyebrows raising. He didn’t look like his pops. He took after his ma’s side of the family, his pops’ jet black hair, the sides grey from years and years of hard work and raising four boys. He had been playing in the league for four whole years and his parents hadn’t seen him play once in Charleston. Which sucked. Staring back at his pops quietly, he felt as if a heaviness was being lifted from his shoulders. He knew his pops loved him. He also knew that he didn’t blame him for the accident years ago, but hearing him say that he was proud of him, well, that meant something.

  “Now go smuggle me a Stout will ya, boy.”

  4

  Staring at the grand fireplace encased in stone running all the way from the ground up to the ceiling, Whitney gently ran her fingers across her grandmaw’s pearls that rested around her neck and swallowed back tears. Her eyes taking in each of the twenty red and green stockings hanging on the large, log mantle, all struggling to fit, her eyes stopped at the two additional stockings wedged beside Shay’s. One for her and one for Quinn.

  This family.

  This wonderful, beautifully made family hadn’t blinked when she arrived unexpectedly with Quinn over Thanksgiving. They hadn’t asked any prying questions or passed any judgement. They had accepted and welcomed her and her baby girl without a second thought and she was so grateful that she could now call them her own. Her parents weren’t warm people. They weren’t welcoming and they hadn’t accepted her nor any decision she had ever made in her life. They handed out and passed around judgement like the yams at the Christmas dinner table. She hadn’t heard from either of them today and knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She also knew that she was supposed to be okay with that as well. She had made her peace with who her parents were and had finally stood up for herself and was no longer accepting their hurt. Their guilt. Their control. But it didn’t stop her from wishing that things were different. Hearing from Georgie today was nice, real nice and she just needed to remind herself that her parents were the ones missing out. Losing out on an amazing grandbaby and an incredible son-in-law. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she breathed in a deep breath. She had her perfect little family now. She had Shay and Quinn. And she couldn’t wait for the day when she could officially call the Cunningham family, her own. Although, they already were in all the ways that really mattered.

  “We might need to get a longer mantle once baby Ruby arrives.”

  Feeling Fiona’s small hand on her arm, Whitney smiled thinking of Cian and Erin’s new baby that was due soon enough. Placing her hand over Fiona’s they both gazed at the stockings with all of the names, every one getting increasingly more modern as the line went down to the youngest member of the family. The family history was so rich in this home and she adored that. Looking down at Fiona, a big smile on her tiny face, she smiled back. Gosh, Shay looked so much like her.

  “Thank you,” Whitney whispered, her Louisiana accent spiking before she cleared her throat. “Thank you for accepting me and Quinn into your beautiful family, Fiona.”

  Stopping her lip from trembling, she managed a small grin, her throat burning a bit. She loved this woman and although she wished things could be different with her own mama, Fiona was a blessing and she was the luckiest girl in the whole world to have her.

  Patting her hand gently, Fiona’s smile softened. “Come with me.”

  Following Shay’s mama up the large staircase immersed in garland and red berries and white lights, Whitney looked down into the middle of the overwhelmingly large foyer as Cassidy and Lena practiced their Irish step-dance routine while Kieran, Kellan and Caleb, all of which were around the same age, threw mesh blocks over the railing down onto the girls before ducking behind the banister. Walking through the large doors behind Fiona into her bedroom, her eyes adjusted as she turned on a small lamp. The room wasn’t flashy or heavily decorated nor expensive. It was simple. It held necessities and only a few personal items that she imagined they had owned for years prior to coming to the states. She loved items that held a past with them. Pictures and pieces that told stories and stored secrets. Watching as Fiona opened a small, wooden box on her dresser, one that looked brittle as if it held many miles and years, she lifted a hair brooch covered in pearls and delicate, tiny diamonds. “This was my mother’s.”

  Whitney’s eyes closing slowly, her heart skipped. Grandmaw Quinn. The woman Shay shared his middle name with and the one her baby girl now proudly owned. When Shay had found her inside the basement of the Mavericks stadium about to give birth, he had not only got her to the hospital in time, but had stood beside her, the only hand to hold as she gave birth to her baby girl. After delivering Quinn and between drifting in and out of sleep, she had overheard Shay tell a nurse his full name and the moment that name left his lips, she knew. That was her baby girl’s name. And it was the perfect fit in more ways than one.

  “She passed just a few months before Shay was born,” Fiona spoke, her eyes getting heavy. “And I know she would have just been wild for that boy.”

  Chuckling quietly, she swallowed back her own tears threatening in the corners of her eyes. She was so emotional today. Taking her hands, Fiona’s smooth, early aging hands opened her fingers. Kissing the brooch, she placed it against her heart before placing it inside Whitney’s palm. “I think she would love it if you wore it on your wedding day.”

  Tripping over her breath, the air left her lungs looking down at the vintage hair pin in her hands. Studying the woman she had only known for a few short weeks, but loved as though she had always been in her life, she choked back a sob.

  “If you would like to wear it, that is,” Fiona shook her head quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like such a mother-in-law.”

  Without a word, Whitney wrapped her into a tight hug, tears dropping from her eyelashes. Squeezing her gently, Fiona hugged her back.

  “And I jus
t know that she would have been crazy about you too, Whitney.”

  5

  “Where’s Rory?”

  Looking between his brothers, Shay stuck his hands deeper inside his pockets. Damn, the longer he lived in the south he swore the colder it got back home. But for as much as he loved the warmth, water and sunshine in Charleston, there was no denying how awesome West Virginia was. Not just at Christmas, but any time of the year.

  “He’s at it again on those bloody lights,” Finn jerked his chin towards the front of the house.

  “He’s out of control,” Cian shook his head pinning the tip of a cigarette between his lips.

  Rory was as stubborn as he was passionate and that was often a frustrating blend to the laid back nature of the rest of the brothers. Eleven months apart, he and Rory had grown up side by side, sharing both the classroom and the field all through school. After accepting their full rides to Notre Dame to play ball, just as Cian and Finn had, one late night, a dark road and a tractor trailer later had ended them in a ditch, bringing them both within inches of their lives. Shay had recovered and went on to live out the dream of playing in the NFL. But he had to do it without Rory. More broken bones and indisputable physical therapy, time had not been on Rory’s side to make it to camp and so he had lost his scholarship, keeping him home driving a truck with a permanent limp. It hadn’t been easy coming home and downplaying his success. Keeping his head down and watching the chip on his brother’s shoulder grow until it suffocated both of them. And as the years trailed on it became exceedingly more difficult to see Rory and continually digest the guilt he carried with him. It had only been recently that he’d realized that staying away to avoid Rory had also meant being noticeably absent to the rest of his family as well. But things were looking up. Chipping away at the years of resentment and hard feelings, him and Rory had made a silent agreement to steadily move forward. A large part of that he owed to Whitney. That woman was insistent and she hadn’t stopped getting on his case until he fixed things with his brother.

  And his family.

  “Eh, I just think he’s finding a reason to get away from that yappy fiancée of his,” Uncle Tommy chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette.

  All agreeing, a small steady dusting of snow fell between them. It was good to be home. And even better than that, he felt as if he was relaxing back into his family again. Even simple things like standing around and talking with his brothers again. Things he had missed.

  “Shit!” Shay shouted suddenly. “Fuck!”

  His brothers’ heads whipping up quickly, they all stared at him.

  Damn that felt good.

  “The fuck was that mate?” Uncle Tommy asked.

  Releasing a breath slowly, Shay adjusted his beanie on top of his head. “Damn that felt good,” he shook his head. “Whitney has this no cussin’ rule that she’s hell bent on,” he rubbed his face. “And I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

  Looking at him, horrified each brothers’ eyes widened in disbelief and he swore he even saw Cian shudder. Cursing was a form of communication and self-expression inside his family. A way of life and he was trying to work on his mouth. Trying for her. But damn, was it difficult.

  “So moving on,” Cian shook his head, flicking his cigarette over the railing. “How long after Rory’s wedding will we have to get ready for another bachelor party?”

  Scoffing, Shay shrugged. Truth was, he’d have married that woman last night in the middle of his living room. Or this morning after she had woken up smiling if he had it his way. Looking over his shoulder, he watched her through the clouded kitchen window, laughing at something Holly said, the two of them bumping shoulders. That woman came into his life screaming and had changed his entire world. And watching her smile as Ma handed her Quinn, the lights from the tree glowing behind them, he realized how much he had been missing out on before them. In under a few short months, they had become everything to him. Nothing in his past seemed as heavy any more. And looking at the two of them now, he knew exactly why he had lived that night of the accident.

  “So has it been rough?” Finn asked, a cloud of thick air coming from his mouth. “Baby boy bachelor now living with two women.”

  Scoffing, he wiped his hands slowly across his mouth. “Well there certainly is a lot more clothes that’s for damn sure.”

  But he didn’t mind.

  He wanted all his space occupied with their things.

  And with them.

  Cian continued to fill him in on Nicky insisting on practicing his spirals and catches every day after school despite the snow on the ground and the kid was already talking about playing for Notre Dame, which had them all bumping fists. All three of them had graduated from Dame and had played too. But he was the only one who had continued onto the league. Hearing his nephew talk about that now at the bold age of eight-years old had him and every other brother grinning with pride. Finn explained how Caleb was struggling with math and Uncle Tommy went on his usual rant about how the kids didn’t need to know more than addition and subtraction to get through life. That he had gotten by just fine on the basics. Which, was often debatable.

  “Alright, I’m freezing my balls off,” Shay nodded towards the house. Damn his tolerance for bitter weather really was decreasing. Agreeing, Finn and Uncle Tommy followed behind him as he held the door open for Cian. “You coming?”

  “Nope,” his oldest brother shook his head leaning back against the railing. “My wife scares me right now.”

  Hanging his coat up by the door, Shay grabbed one of his ma’s infamous potato cakes off a tray on the kitchen table before coming up behind Whitney. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he gripped her lower stomach. “You look like a culinary goddess,” he whispered into her ear, taking in the sweet smell of her hair.

  Whipping the inside of the bowl with a large spoon, her hair fell off her shoulder and he took that opportunity to press his lips against her warm skin. She was a domestic princess and each time he watched her he fell more in love with her. Feeling chills spread across her smooth neck he smiled. He was glad that he did that. That he had that effect on her. Which was good, real good, because the permanent reaction he had to this woman was incomparable. And he was known to be a little competitive.

  “Why don’t you come with me,” he gripped her belly again, pushing her gently against the counter. “I’ll show you my old bedroom.”

  Her hands slipping a moment, she recovered quickly before continuing to stir, clearing her throat. “Shay,” her southern accent hitched, pink creeping across her cheeks and he grinned knowing he was getting to her. “I will not do that in your family’s home.”

  “Why not?” he asked, as she looked around, no doubt checking to see if anyone else could hear what he was suggesting. Always Little Miss Manners this one. “Come on Sunshine, I promise to take it easy on you.”

  Lie.

  “No. You won’t,” she cleared her throat again. “And you don’t have an old bedroom here, Casanova. But nice try.”

  Grumbling, he swiped his finger on the side of the mixing bowl scooping some batter onto his finger before licking it. “I’ll wear you down.”

  Rolling her eyes, she swatted his hand before laughing as he went for another finger full of cookie batter. Managing a lick, he turned around walking into the living room passing that damn elf again. Eyeing the thing sitting on the small ledge it looked like he was smiling.

  Or laughing.

  Laughing at him for just getting turned down.

  6

  “Here try this one, sweetie pie.”

  Handing Cassidy a small slice of ham, Whitney waited a minute as Cassidy made over exaggerated gagging noises. Chuckling, Whitney held her hand underneath the small girl’s mouth as she spit the ham out in small pieces like she knew she would. The table was chaos, simple beautiful chaos as most of the children stood while eating their dinner than actually sitting in their seats. Small arms and fingers reached all over the table as the adu
lts passed large serving bowls up and down the length of Fiona’s dining room table.

  “No,” she shook her head popping a string bean into her mouth quickly before taking a cookie out of Shay’s hand. “She can’t eat that yet.” If he tried to feed Quinn one more sweet she was going to smack him. Looking back at her as Cassidy moved inside her lap reaching for her fourth dinner roll, his eyes flickered in mischief. No, she wouldn’t smack him. He was too cute. And watching her baby girl grab his mouth with her tiny fingers, she smiled again.

  “Kellan sit down,” Finn ordered, running out of threats and promises as to what was actually going to happen if he didn’t listen and what toys were going to be taken away next.

  “Here, eat this.” Fiona placed ham and shepherd’s pie on her plate before moving and doing the same to Holly. Born and raised in Louisiana, she had to admit, Fiona’s authentic Irish cuisine was a bit getting used to. That woman was only happy when she was pushing food into people’s mouths, but it was sweet. A woman didn’t cook a feast for twenty people unless it was made with love.

  “Here, Siobhan eat something,” Whitney urged, picking up the mashed potatoes noticing her plate was empty. Handing them across the table, Cassidy leaned over her to tickle Quinn, her blonde curls getting caught in Whitney’s mouth.

  “Oh no,” Siobhan shook her head resting her arms down on the table. “I’m on a diet for the wedding.”

  That is absolutely ridiculous.

  “And what kind of diet is that exactly?” she asked, placing down the bowl in the center of the table.

  “Well,” Siobhan perked up as Nicky came between her and Shay and they started another long handshake. “I don’t eat anything at all until I get the shakes and then I pop a carrot stick with a smidge of peanut butter in my mouth.”

  “Siobhan!” Whitney gasped. “That is not healthy.”

  “I tried to tell her,” Fiona shook her head putting more potatoes on Finn’s plate.