She looked troubled and perhaps slightly lost, and so I reached over and took her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. "This sleepover has suddenly taken on a somber tone."
She laughed softly. "You're right. We'll save somber for when we have a bottle of wine open."
"I'd lay off the wine for a while, Mo Chroí. You're a dirty talking drunk." I raised a brow.
She laughed softly and then was quiet for a moment before she asked, "The other night in ah, bed . . . what did you say to me in Gaelic?"
I paused. "I believe it was something very complimentary about your cream puffs."
She laughed again and the mood lightened. We talked about less serious topics after that. She told me about going away to college, her roommate Beatrice who had snored like a trucker, listened to techno music constantly and lived, seemingly, on a diet of candy corn and Red Bull, about coming back home, about her life now. I listened to her talk, smiling and absorbing every word, and I had to admit, I liked my first sleepover, despite all the talking. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe I just really liked the girl I was having a sleepover with.
I told her about my childhood in Ireland, my mam, the cancer, and even a little bit about my dad before he'd been ruled by the bottle, and I found that it felt good to talk about them, even if only a little. Apart from Fionn, and Eileen of course, I hadn’t come across anyone who had lost both parents so young.
"I wanted this with you," she murmured. "When we were teenagers. I dreamed of this." I smiled softly at her. Funny, we'd both been dreaming of the same thing, yet we'd both been dreaming alone. I didn't want to dream alone anymore. I hoped to God she didn't either.
We'd slept together in the guest room in Greenwich, but having her in my bed brought an even deeper joy and satisfaction. I loved whispering with her in the near dark of my room, loved the look of her freshly scrubbed face right next to mine on the pillow, loved the soft sound of her voice, the way her words faded away as she started drifting off to sleep in the middle of a sentence.
I don't remember falling asleep, but at some point in the deep of the night, I came half awake, realizing Lydia and I were tangled tog