26
In Shay’s living room, Richie sat on the sofa and stared at his friend. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said gently. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“It’s a long story,” Shay said.
“Given how ungodly early it is, we’ve got all day—a long, long time.”
Mrs. Brannigan walked into the living room carrying a tray with coffee, Irish soda bread, and a variety of jams and lemon curd. “If I’d known Mr. Tate was going to be entertaining this morning, I’d have made something fancy for you, but this will have to do.”
“Thanks,” Shay said, pouring them both some coffee. He sat in a wingback chair across from Richie.
“That helps,” Richie said, after taking a sip of coffee and buttering some bread. “Anytime you’re ready.”
“I don’t like to talk about myself,” Shay said.
“No, real
