My True First [18+]

Chapter 68

Jim and I spent the following day cleaning the house and conditioning the garden. The storm left us without a network. We couldn't call or send a text. I worried about my brother, and although I knew Sky wouldn't call, I couldn't help wondering what she would think if she did.

The meeting with my grandmother was another reason for my concern. As we were finishing cleaning the porch, Jim cast a glance at me, his eyebrows raised.

"Nervous?"

I rested the broom against the wooden column and nodded.

"Can I give you the advice you didn't ask for?"

I chuckled. "Go on."

Jim nodded. "You know Kennedy's story, right? Shitty parents, so damn much heartache those fuckers caused. But despite that, he has people who love him. And you have your little brother and Blondie. You're not alone, and you're not gonna lose anything, but you might gain a grandmother. My family is united, and we have each other's backs. It's nice, Liam. You told me your mom moved to France and never looked back, and I'm sure there were reasons, but you need to hear what the woman has to say, even if it's to close the door in her face when she's done talking."

"I know, Jim. Thanks for this and everything else. I wouldn't have managed without you."

"It was my pleasure." O'Brien winked at me. "You can thank me by having a drink together when you get your Blondie back."

"Count on it."

I slapped the guy's back, and he hugged me before picking up the cleaning supplies, ready to go to his house.

"Good luck," Jim said over his shoulder.

"I'll need it," I replied, waving at him.

Jim was going back to the city before returning to the house with his girl. I knew I wouldn't see him. My grandmother would stop by the house in an hour, and I would drive to get Sky first thing in the morning the following day. Oddly, I wished O'Brien stayed here. That way, I would have someone to talk to after my grandmother left.

It was impossible. Jim drove away half an hour later, and I started to pace the length of the living room, waiting for the woman who gave birth to my mother.

I only knew that her name was Faith. Tom told me the time she would visit, and here I was, anxious without knowing what to expect.

A Ford appeared in front of the fence at seven p.m. I walked down the driveway and stood rooted to the spot, watching a thin woman unlock the driver's door and get out of the vehicle.