The next day, I get to my parents house late in the afternoon ready to go for drinks with Ciara. When I arrive, she's not home from work yet. Dad ushers me in and sits me down at the dining table, placing a perfectly brewed tea at my hands before he takes the seat opposite me.

He gives me a serious no-nonsense look. "Tell me about your fella?"

I shrug. "There isn't much to tell."

"He seems like a flower boy."

I frown at dad, does he think Ollie is like the little girls who throw petals at weddings? "What do you mean?"

"He seems like the kind of lad who'll bring you flowers every Sunday morning just because you asked, or even if you didn't ask, as if he'll happily romance ye."

I think about Ollie, all I know about him and all he's done since I met him, then I beam from ear-to-ear. "He is that kind of guy."

Dad nods, then shrugs. "Mind you, I don't know if you should sack off a fella if he isn't, not all men are raised right but they can still do right."

I think about it for a moment. "Paddy wasn't. A flower man, I mean."

"Ah, well." Dad takes a long sip of tea. "Paddy wasn't much of anything. I never thought much of the two of you, but this new man. I like him. So far anyway."

It may not be a revelation to him, but it's a revelation to me. As far as I knew everyone in the entire town loved Paddy, even my family, until they found out the truth. "You didn't want me to marry Paddy?"

Dad laughs as if I've said the funniest thing he's ever heard. "Did I fuck! The man is as smarmy as his hair is slick, but you seemed happy so I was happy for you."

I'm shocked. If my family didn't like Paddy they never once let on. When we got engaged they rejoiced and threw a party, Dad even offered to help chip in for the wedding, though Paddy took that as some slight to his manhood.

I'm not entirely sure what to say, but I don't have to as Shannon bursts through the door and gives me a shrewd look, "What are you doing here? Not trying to convince them to give you money, or something, are you?"

Completely baffled by her sentence, I ask, "What? What money? Why would I do that?"

"You haven't visited home in years and now you've come twice in one week. You must be up to something."

A little big angry, I demand, "When have I ever asked any of you for anything?"

Shannon shrugs, knowing I've got her there. I famously never ask for help even when I desperately need it. It's a source of ire for all of them. Then, in a surprised voice with narrowed eyes, she says, "Are you even eating? You've gotten too thin."

Dad, eager to stop a war asks, "Where's Owen?"

"At the fence, talking to Mrs. Murray."

Shannon and Owen are made of the same ilk. Shannon was the only one of us who would smooze the neighbours, pretending to care about their health problems, which grand-children were doing well and which weren't, what stores in England sell Nash's red lemonade and Tayto.

Owen saunters in like the cat that's got the cream and just the sight of him makes me want to run a mile.

"Crikey," He says, stopping as he spots me. "Wet the bed or something? What are you doing here?"

"I'm going for drinks with Ciara." I say, indignantly.

"And you didn't invite me?" Shannon is just as indigent. "Or Cara?"

"You've hardly been an enjoyable presence to be around since I landed, and Ciara asked me to go for a drink."

"Please!" Mums voice is shrill as she appears in the kitchen. "It's so rare all my babies are in the same country let alone the same house. Will you stop going at it like two bulls?" There's a pause and then we all laugh except mum. "What?" She asks.

"'Going at it' implies sex, mum."

Mum practically clutches her pearls. "Of course that isn't what I meant!"

"Of course not," I say, "No one would ever want to mention sex within the four walls of this house, even though we've all done it. Especially mum, with her army of children."

"Sinade!" Mum practically screams, causing the rest of us to once again roar with laughter. She gives me a stern look before storming from the room. Poor mum, my humour's always been a bit much for her.

For has long as I can remember, Shannon has held the title of Favourite Daughter. The title of Least Favourite Daughter has passed between Ciara and I like an Olympic Relay. Then I moved away and Shannon married the most insufferable man on the planet, which caused her to become equally insufferable, and suddenly, I wasn't the bottom of the chain anymore.

There was a time when I was in hospital with a fractured arm, no one was available to come and get me and Owen turned up. Looking at the nurse who was bandaging my arm, he sneered, "Where are you from then?"

I winced, the nurse blanched and the room fell silent. "Adare." The nurse replied curtly. 

"No, no." Owen insisted. "Where are you really from?"

The nurse stared at him, "Do you mean where are my grandparents from? As in, why am I black?"

Unashamedly, he said, "Yeah."

"Zambia." She answered, turning her back to him. 

From my toes to my ears, I wanted the ground to swallow me up and to have no association with him. I couldn't believe I had to sit and wait with him as if he's someone I remotely like. As if he's  the company I choose to keep. 

Dad once asked a similar question to an Asian doctor, but the difference is dad meant it kindly - he was making small talk, and he's never left our small town, never seen the world. He doesn't mean any harm, he's just a bit innocently ignorant. 

Owen wanted to point out the nurses differences from him, it was said sinisterly. He's done a few things like that throughout the years, on top of cheating on Shannon - which we were all forced to forgive. He's not the man I would even think about choosing for my sister, none-the-less, she made the choice anyway. 

Owen makes Paddy look like a saint, and that's saying something. 

"Sinead?" Dad draws me back to the room. 

"Mhm?" 

"Did you hear me?"

I shake my head.

"Ciara said she's been trying to reach you, she's stuck at work so maybe you can do drinks another time?"

I love Ciara, she's my favourite sister but for some inexplicable reason, I feel relief. "I'll text her and let her know it's fine." 

Dad gives me a small smile, "Eager to get back to your new fella?"

I smile back at him, "Something like that."

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