Size: 5.50 x 8.80 in
When Siobhán Murray gets a call from a neighbor saying her estranged father, Patrick, has been admitted to a hospital after a serious heart attack, she’s desperate to get to Ireland. Her girlfriend, Annie Slocum, books the first possible flight to Dublin for both of them.
Despite their difficult relationship, Siobhán wants to help her father, so she and Annie move in with him during his recovery. Although Annie loves Siobhán and Ireland, and wants to be supportive, she feels out of place and disconnected from Siobhán.
Patrick hasn’t been the same since his wife’s death fifteen years ago, and it takes time and patience for Siobhán and him to work through their issues.
Things slowly begin to improve as Annie figures out a way to expand her Boston-based blog to include some Irish content, and Siobhán’s spark of creativity re-ignites after lying dormant for more than a year.
But there’s one more hurdle they must overcome, and that decision will shape their entire future.
Publisher: Independently Published
“Annie! Annie!” A hard shake brought her awake, and Siobhán’s panicked tone made Annie bolt upright. She blinked, trying to focus through the haze of a deep sleep.
“What’s going on?” she asked thickly. Siobhán stood beside the bed. Her dark hair was wild and tangled, and her face was white and etched with worry.
“It’s me da, Annie.” Siobhán’s voice sounded strained and pinched. “He’s had a heart attack. I need to go home.”
Annie rubbed a hand across her face as Siobhán turned away. “What? Is he all right?”
“I just told you he had a bleedin’ heart attack! Of course he’s not all right!” Siobhán flung open the closet doors and pulled out a large, heavy suitcase. She dropped it onto the bed beside Annie.
“I mean …” Annie wasn’t sure how to delicately ask if he was alive. Siobhán wasn’t making that terribly clear. “How serious is it?”READ MORE
“He wasn’t feeling well, so he went to the health centre in Bray. His neighbor said they sent him to the hospital in Dublin straightaway.” Siobhán yanked open a drawer and pulled clothing out. A scarlet bra tumbled to the floor, followed by a balled up pair of socks. “It’s serious. He’ll be in hospital for a while.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry, Siobhán.” Annie’s brain still wasn’t fully awake, but she threw back the covers and stood, wanting to do something to help.
Siobhán’s hands were shaking as she yanked open another drawer and stuffed things haphazardly into the suitcase. Her eyes were red-rimmed and watery, and Annie knew she was barely holding on by a thread. Annie approached cautiously and placed a hand to still Siobhán’s movements. “I mean it, Siobhán. I’m sorry to hear about your father. What are you doing right now though?”
Siobhán looked over at her, a frown marring her forehead. “I’m going home, Annie. To Ireland.”