An uncommon feeling swept over me. I felt … possessive of him.
“And you,” I lied. I glanced briefly at Theresa as I led them into the living room, monitoring Noah’s reaction to the arrival of his final two guests. I was probably imagining it, but I swore his green eyes flashed black as coal for a split second at the sight of Hawkins. It was odd because I thought he’d have more anger for Theresa than for Hawkins himself. Then again, he probably resented my principal for the affair he’d had with Sylvia all those years ago.
Speaking of which, I didn’t fail to notice the catty, self-satisfied look Theresa shot at Sylvia, like she was delighted to see how sick she’d become, confined to a wheelchair. Wow, that was low. Even if someone slept with my husband, I’d still never wish an illness like Sylvia’s on them.
Hawkins glanced at Sylvia briefly, then quickly turned away, like he could barely bring himself to look at her. Well, this wasn’t going to be awkward at all.
“Welcome,” Noah said, distracting me from my observations.
“We can’t stay long,” Hawkins clipped, his shoulders stiff and straight as a ruler.
Noah came and patted him on the back. “Hey, don’t leave early on my account. What happened before I went away, it’s all water under the bridge. I’ve forgiven you.”
Hawkins blinked rapidly; surprise written all over his face.
Forgiven him for what? Matt O’Hare butted in, voicing the very same question. “Well, now I’m curious. What have you forgiven John for?”
Noah glanced at Matt. “He lied about me.” His eyes went to Sylvia. “Didn’t he, Mother?”
Sylvia’s lips paled, and I noticed her hand grew a little shaky where it rested on the arm of her wheelchair. She gave a tiny nod and looked away, a frown marring her delicate features.
“I found God though,” Noah said, returning his attention to Hawkins before he turned to me. “Haven’t I, Estella?”
He shot me a meaningful look, which I interpreted as him wanting me to lie. I cleared my throat. “Um, yes. He even attends mass.” More precisely, he attended one mass. I wasn’t sure why I lied for him; it was an odd, instinctive thing.
Noah grinned. “Indeed, I do. As the Lord has forgiven us, we must also forgive.”
He grabbed a glass and filled it with wine before handing it to Hawkins. He awkwardly took it. Whatever Noah was referring to when he told Hawkins he forgave him, my principal seemed gobsmacked.
Noah returned to the bar, where he poured wine for Theresa and some for me, too. Though I wasn’t a drinker, I took it gladly. Whatever this night had in store, I was going to need some Dutch courage to get me through, especially when I spotted Matt shoot me a less than pleasant glance. Clearly, he hadn’t forgotten my fight at school with his daughter.
“Can you write down the name and address of that restaurant for me?” Enda asked, diverting Noah’s attention.
“Of course,” he replied, pulling open a drawer and searching for a pen and paper. When he found them, he set the paper down, about to write when his eyes lifted to Sylvia’s. She was staring at him, and I watched his jaw tick, his expression hardening as he stared down at the pen in his hand. He was holding it in his right hand, but shooting Sylvia a dark look, he transferred it over to his left. He seemed almost defiant. The others in the room were too busy talking amongst themselves to notice the strange, silent interaction between mother and son.
“Here. You’re going to love their seafood chowder,” Noah said, handing over the paper once he’d finished writing.
“Fantastic. Sarah and I are always on the lookout for good food,” Enda said, sliding an arm around his wife’s waist.
“How lovely to be all together again,” Lydia said, lifting her glass in a toast.
“We had some good times back in the day,” Matt added heartily, his tone nostalgic.
“That’s actually why I invited you,” Noah said, wearing a smile I didn’t believe. It was fake, but I seemed to be the only person who saw it for what it was. “As you probably know, the 10th anniversary of my father’s death is coming up, and I want to hold a remembrance ceremony here at the house to mark the occasion.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Lydia exclaimed.
“Yes, it’ll be good to celebrate the old dog,” Enda added. “He always did love a party.”
“I knew him since our school days,” Matt put in. “He was one of my closest friends. If you need any help organising the ceremony, I’ll be happy to provide the food and drink.”
“Very kind of you,” Noah said graciously. I never thought I’d use that word to describe him. It had to be an act. Gone was the chaotic, wild intensity he normally exuded. He was acting like a normal, mature adult, and it made me extra suspicious.