Baptisms, holy communions, and confirmations make me cry. Funerals make me cry, which makes sense. Weddings make me cry. If I stop attending church events Kleenex will go bust.
“Did you remember to bring tissues?”
Cal’s text made me smile. I should have been annoyed with him. He’d left me in the lurch, again, by being called into work even though he’d booked Holly’s baptism as a holiday months ago. He’d been on my mind so much on the drive down to Wexford that I’d even imagined I’d seen him, dressed as a security guard, in a mini-van I’d over-taken on the motorway around Dublin. I wondered what a therapist would make of that.
“Is this it?”...
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