But the crew seemed happy, and a game of soccer let everyone feel better. I’d always thought of archaeology as the classic work hard and party harder—after seven hours in the field, all anyone wanted to do was kick around a ball or drink loads of beer. We’d nominally played crew against locals, but really it had been everyone athletic against Mike, in a sure move to make him lose. It had put everyone in a very good mood, and now the pub rang with laughter.
I looked around the room and realized I recognized half the people, and it made a different part of my heart ache, like when you get a good book cry. I liked people tapping me on the shoulder or shouting across the room to me or a bench being so full thighs touched. I liked belonging.
Across the room Maggie sat down next to Kate, and the two women nodded stiffly. I watched as they engaged in conversation over two large mugs.
“What does your mom do?”
Mike surreptitiously moved his potatoes onto my plate. “She’s an engineer for semi-conductor chips.”
I had not been expecting that answer. “What? Wow. How do you get into that?”
“I think she started off in the field when she was young and kept advancing.”
“Does she like it?”
He hesitated. “I’m not really sure. I think it was good enough, and she had three kids to support, and it paid well.”
“But she didn’t have to support them after you were drafted.”
He looked at me. “That’s what I thought.”
I shook my head, caught sight of Maggie, and regained my line of thought. “Wait. Sorry. I meant, what does she do here? You know. When we’re off together or Lauren’s with Paul or Anna’s hanging out with Mary and whoever and trying to get Finn’s attention?”
“What?”
I rolled my eyes. “I just can’t help that you’re clueless.”
“Lauren and Paul?”
“Totally not a thing. Forget I said anything.”
He looked around wildly, but Lauren was chatting with Anka and her husband, and Paul was nowhere to be seen. I took Mike’s hand and pulled on it for attention. “Focus. At dinner your mom always says that she met up with someone for lunch, and I know she goes into town twice a week for yoga and to talk to that woman at the art gallery. But that doesn’t seem like much.”
“How long has this been going on?”
I sighed. “Mike. You would make the worst spy in the world.”
“You say that like it’s an actual, serious failing. Where’s Paul?”
Because it totally was. “How did she meet your dad?”
He kept scanning the pub. “She worked at the hardware store his second-cousin owned in Southie.”
We were interrupted by a red-cheeked O’Malley, who really just wanted a second of Mike’s time to gloat, and he hadn’t even been on the field. “Not so good at football, now, O’Connor.”
Mike shook his head at the older man. “You come over to the States and try our version, and then see how well you do.”
“Don’t be sore about it. I’ll buy you a pint.” Grinning like a madmen, O’Malley went off.
I propped my chin on my hand. “See? All you have to do to get people to like you is lose.”
Mike shook his head. “No one in this village takes me seriously.”
“That’s because they’re just too used to you troublesome O’Connors. But at least they buy you beer.”
“There’s that.” His eyes tracked to the side. “One sec. I have to go punch Paul in the face.”
I rolled my eyes as he climbed out of his seat. “Play nice!”
When they came back, Mike looked satisfied, and Paul looked irritated, and no one looked too banged up. In fact, they both swung their arms.
“Done playing in the dirt, boys?”
Paul scowled. “Hardly fair when he’s a professional athlete.”
“Don’t whine. It’s unattractive.”
“Not really looking to pick you up, love.”
Mike draped his arm around me. “Not your love.”
I knocked my shoulder against him. “Smug’s not attractive, either.”
Mike kissed me. “I’ve been wanting to beat the crap out of this guy for ages. I’m feeling a lot better now.”
Paul grumbled. “You didn’t. I let you land that punch, because—”
I kicked him.
Unlike the O’Connors, he didn’t pretend he hadn’t felt it. “Jesus Christ! Does everyone in this family communicate by kicks?”
Mike took a swig of his drink. “We like to be subtle.”
“You’re all mad.”
Lauren dropped down beside him. “As hatters. Why is your cheek swelling?”
Paul leaned back and delivered a long look at Mike. “Ask your brother.”
Mike shrugged. “Ask Natalie.”
I widened my eyes at Lauren. “It’s totally not my fault. How did he not know you two were a thing?”
She let out a beleaguered groan. “Because he’s an idiot. They’re both idiots.”
We spent the next hour and a half needling each other and devouring an unseemly amount of fish and chips. At some point my gaze, now slightly fuzzier, fell back on Kate and Maggie, who still sat close. I shook my head. “They must have figured everything out.”
Mike ate a poor, innocent fry doused in vinegar and salt. “Figured what?”
“Any lingering resentment about your dad and uncle. Paul,” I said, remembering Patrick’s month mind, “you sounded like you knew what was between the brothers. What was it?”
He cut a derisive look my way. “None of our business.”
Lauren laughed. “So basically, you’re clueless.”
He scowled at her. “My mum said they all had a fight, that Brian was always a rebel but it worsened, and then he took off for America and never came back. And the next thing Maggie heard, he was married. Broke her heart.”
Mike snorted. “You make it sound like he married my mom as soon as he arrived.”
Paul shook his head. “Why don’t you think he did? Do you know how many undocumented Irish are in America? They can’t come home if they ever want to return to the States.”
Well, I didn’t know. “How many are there?”
“Forty, fifty thousand.” He scoffed at our astonishment. “Don’t any of you read the papers? There was a whole article this morning.”
Mike leaned forward. “What are you implying? He married my mom for citizenship?”
Paul leaned back. “I’m not implying anything. Just stating the facts.”
Mike shook his head. “They got married because they were in love.”
Paul laughed. “Ah, I’m sure of it.”
I squeezed Mike’s had so he didn’t leap up and attack Paul across the table. “He probably wouldn’t have left Maggie and Ireland if he was madly in love with her.”
“Unless,” Paul said darkly, “he had an excellent reason for wanting to get away.”
Mike’s grip tightened on mine, and I didn’t need to look at him to know his face had gone stony. He was thinking about his father’s involvement with the Nationalists again. “That’s possible,” I said quickly, “but instead of just conjecturing, why don’t we ask them?”
They all stared at me like the crazy bug had bitten me. Paul shook his head. “I don’t want to uncover that old shite.”
“We can’t ask them about their old romances,” Lauren added.
I shrugged. “Why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”
They were all silent for a moment, and then Mike stood abruptly. “I’m sick of only knowing half truths.”
Lauren sighed and also stood. “It’s on your head if she freaks out.”
They all started forward, but I tugged Mike’s hand to stop him. “Maybe I shouldn’t go with you guys.”
Paul raised his brows. Lauren leveled a look at me. But Mike was the one who spoke. “This is your crazy idea, Sullivan. So get your ass up.”