Saving a Legend(8)

“We could use the extra hands, babe,” Clare intervened, giving Kieran a sympathetic smile.

Part of him wanted to hate her pity, but in truth, he was grateful this total stranger was so accepting of him. He couldn’t understand why she was; she didn’t know him, and she undoubtedly hadn’t heard good things about him from his brother.

“Fine, but just until you find something else.” Rory glared at him for a moment before his eyes softened and he turned back to Clare. “Since when do you and my mom team up against me, mhuirnín?”

“Since she is right, and you’re a stubborn ass.” Clare shared a conspiring wink with Dee.

“You picked a good one there, Rory.” Dee reached over the table and squeezed Clare’s hand before turning to Kane. “What about you, Kane? Dating anyone I might like this time? I want grandchildren soon, you know.”



Kieran snorted and ducked away from his twin brother, not wanting the questions to deviate from Kane to him.

“What? Why me? You’ve got three other sons here who are all single, Ma. Plus Casey,” Kane said, in an attempt to deflect her attention.

“Not really. Casey needs to focus on finishing school. Jimmy’s only twenty-two; he’s too young to settle down. Quinn’s only a year older than Jim, and he’s stuck on the Finley girl.” Dee rattled on as she passed scraps of food under the table to Ace.

“I am not stuck on her!” Quinn protested, but she ignored him.

“So that leaves you, Kane.”

“What about Kieran? He was all over the pretty florist today.” Kane threw him to the wolves. Jimmy shook his head at the comment, reminding Kieran that he wanted to ask what Jimmy had meant earlier about Fiona having baggage.

“Don’t drag me into this.” Kieran put his hands up in defense, but inside he was happier than he had been in a long time. He had missed his family and these Sunday dinners. Despite their bickering, he knew that in this room, no matter what he had done in the past, he was loved.

—

“Kavanagh.” A short, bald man holding a clipboard stepped out of one of the rooms that lined the hallway Kieran was sitting in.

“Here.” Kieran stood from his chair and followed the man into a small windowless office, filled with entirely too many filing cabinets. The whole place reeked of mildew and stale coffee.



“Kieran Murphy Kavanagh. Age twenty-six. Two years upstate for aggravated assault, let out for good behavior. Now serving six months parole plus three hundred hours of community service. That you?” The man rattled off the information from the file in front of him.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m Officer Kirk Huppert.” The man shook his hand before motioning to a chair facing a desk. Kieran was at least a hundred pounds bulkier than the stocky, short man, and yet the officer seemed completely unfazed by their size difference. “I’ll be your parole officer for the next six months, and hopefully not a day longer. If it is longer, it’s because you fucked up, and I have no qualms about throwing your ass back in prison. Understood?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve got no plans to go back there. Ever,” Kieran said, taking a seat as the officer rounded the desk and sat, spreading Kieran’s file out in front of him.

“Good, then don’t violate your parole. I find anything, I mean anything, that even smells the tiniest bit like shit and you’re doing another thirty days. Depending on how bad it is, possibly the rest of your sentence,” Officer Huppert said.

Kieran nodded. “I understand.”

Officer Huppert flipped through his file again. “So you got a job yet, Kavanagh?”

“Yes, sir. Doing construction down at Woodlawn Rescue. My brother bought the place, and they’re fixing it up.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve driven past that. It’s called Ace’s Dogs now, right? My kid’s been hassling me to get her a dog. Maybe when the place is up and running,” the officer mused out loud, not really talking to Kieran as he scanned his file. “And says here you’re living with your brother, too?”



“Different brother, but yes.”

“All right, if any of that changes, you need to let me know immediately. We’ll be meeting every Monday morning at this time, and if you miss even one appointment, we will have a warrant out for your arrest. Here’s my card, and you can call me anytime you need to talk.” The officer handed him a small business card.

“Yes, sir.” Kieran nodded, feeling nervous at the ease with which he could end up behind bars once again.

“For your three hundred hours of community service, you’re going to be working at a local youth center, right here in Woodlawn.”