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morning, I figured
this might be the last chance I’d ever get to mess with him.
    “My hangover will be gone in a few hours, and
with any luck, you’ll be gone a few minutes after my dad gets his
hands on you. So, all in all, I’d say I’m feeling pretty good.” He
turned to walk away but then apparently decided taunting me was too
fun to abandon. “And don’t touch anything, Buffer. I know you’re
not used to having all this expensive stuff around. We don’t need
your filthy handprints all over everything.” A malicious grin
spread across his face. He turned his back again and disappeared
down the long corridor.
    “What an ass,” I said under my breath, then
pressed my palm against a framed mirror that hung on the wall
beside me. When I pulled it back, a smudged handprint appeared on
its otherwise impeccably clean surface. I knew it was juvenile,
that I might as well have stuck my tongue out at Judd’s retreating
form, but the act of disobedience felt good anyway.
    I scanned my surroundings. I’d never been
invited to the Sheedy home before, and this wasn’t how I’d imagined
it happening. Best case scenario, I was in for one hell of a
lecture, but Pop had always been a man of few words. More likely,
his three other sons would get a chance to finish the fight their
youngest brother had started last night. I cursed my own stupidity
for the hundredth time and vowed again to both drink less at
parties and start listening to my brother’s advice where women were
concerned.
    Despite Judd’s admonishment to stay put, I
wandered down the hall a ways, cautiously looking around at the
ostentatious décor of the Sheedy mansion. Religious icons abounded,
displayed in the form of paintings; wall-mounted crucifixes; and a
side table where the Holy Mother stood on a white lace doily,
flanked by St. Bridget and St. Jude, each on their own clouds of
lace.
    On one side of the hall was a set of double
doors, which were closed, muffling the voices of the people behind
them. I paused in my exploration, convinced I’d heard my name
spoken from inside the room. The voices fell silent, and I moved
away from the door quickly, afraid I’d be caught eavesdropping.
    The double doors swung open, and Rosie
stepped out. When she saw me waiting in the hall, she stopped
abruptly. We stared at each other for a moment.
    She smiled, and after a second, I grinned
back. “Hey. Are you okay?”
    She glanced into the room she’d just stepped
from, then without a word, sprinted up the stairs. I stared after
her, debating whether her smile had been a positive sign or if
she’d just heaped all the blame for last night on me and was happy
she’d gotten away without punishment.
    “Come in here and have a seat, Shay.”
    My heart thudded in my ears at the sound of
Pop’s voice coming from inside the room. I could only guess what
he’d been told already. If I was here for a scolding, I’d apologize
and ask what I could do to make it up to the clan. If I was here
for a beating, I’d take it like a man and maybe get in a few good
licks myself. I squared my shoulders and attempted to look a lot
calmer than I felt, then walked into the office with as much
confidence as I could muster.
    “Close the doors behind you,” Pop said.
    He sat behind a huge mahogany desk that
filled the center of the room, and I got the feeling this was what
appearing before a judge would feel like. I pulled the doors shut
and slid into the seat across from him. I glanced around, still
trying to decide how to begin. My eyes landed on a framed picture
mounted on the wall. It wasn’t the clumsily painted watercolor
seascape that had caught my attention, but the fact that one side
of the gilt frame had separated from the wall several inches. Pop
followed my gaze to the wall behind him, then reached out and
pushed the painting back into place. He cleared his throat and
turned back to me.
    Showtime. “I know my brother and I behaved
badly last night,” I said, but Pop