Nanny K

Mallory

Edel Kavanagh. Lovely, lovely Edel.

She was like a second mother to da. Of course, he'd never admit it, but I could see it. Da was always a bit closed off, quiet at times, but Edel— or Nana, as I used to call her when I was little— had a way of making him feel at ease. She was his rock, even if he didn't always show it. And I knew he saw her that way, even if he'd never say it out loud.

Nana was something special. She didn't just love us; she adored us. Me, Ma, AJ, and Da— the whole lot of us. We were hers, even though I wasn't really her granddaughter. Sure, Caoimhe was her biological granddaughter, but it never mattered to Edel. To her, blood didn't matter. I was hers just as much as Caoimhe, and I always felt that. She made me feel like one of her own grandbabies, even if we weren't connected by blood.

When I was younger, I used to spend hours with Nana, listening to her stories about the old days and all the funny little things she used to do. She had this way of making everything sound magical. Her laugh was infectious, and it was one of those sounds that could make everything feel right in the world. Whenever I went over to visit, it was always like I was coming home. I'd be wrapped in her warm hugs, her familiar smell of lavender and baking filling the air, and her gentle voice telling me everything would be okay.

I didn't always get what she meant, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the warmth and the love she gave without question.

I think a lot of people saw her as this sweet, soft woman— the type who baked the best scones, gave you a peppermint tea when you weren't feeling well, and always asked about your day. But underneath that softness, Nana was strong. Stronger than anyone I knew, even Da. She had this quiet strength about her, a strength that I admired and wanted to have one day.

The love she gave us, especially AJ and me, was unconditional. I never felt like I had to be anyone else around her. I didn't have to live up to any expectations. With Nana, I was just Mallory. That was enough. I could just be me.

Nana was a goddess, like she'd been gifted from the heavens to us. A beautiful blonde goddess. Even at god knows what age, nana was stunning. And boy did everyone else think that.

Especially Granda John. He worshiped his wife and I wish to find whatever they have one day.

He was so patient and gentle with her.

Da even called nana a blonde bulldozer which was definitely correct and I know where uncle Johnny gets his bulldozing tendencies from.

There was a certain magic in the way Nana and Granda John moved through the world together. It was the kind of love that didn't need words to be understood. The way their eyes met across a room, the way they'd share a quiet laugh or a knowing glance. It was in the way Granda John would help Nana with things, even if she insisted she could do it herself. He'd gently take over, always mindful of her, as if nothing else mattered but making sure she was okay.

I remember once, when I was about ten, Nana was trying to reach something high up on a shelf in the kitchen. She was standing on tiptoe, arms stretched out, and before she could wobble or lose her balance, Granda John was right there, steadying her, without a word. It was like they had this unspoken connection, this understanding that made everything look effortless.

And Nana— she was always a little embarrassed by how much Granda doted on her, like it was nothing special. But I saw it. I saw the way her cheeks would flush when he called her his "angel" or told her she was still the most beautiful woman in the world, even though they'd been together for decades. It made me believe in love— that kind of love that doesn't fade with time, that only grows stronger, deeper, more unshakable.

I couldn't help but admire that about them. It was the kind of relationship I hoped to have when I was older, the kind where you didn't have to prove anything to each other. You just were. They had this beautiful understanding that spoke louder than any words could.

Da would sometimes joke that he was lucky to have someone as "patient" as Nana, especially since he could be so stubborn. But I think, deep down, he knew what we all knew— Nana had a strength that couldn't be matched. And she gave that strength to Granda John, even when he didn't realize it.

It was funny, though— you'd think Granda John would be the one to spoil us grandkids, the way he adored us, but it was always Nana. She was the one who made sure we felt loved, no matter what. But it was in the way they both cared for each other that made their love so special.

It wasn't perfect, nothing ever is, but it was real. And that's the kind of love I hope to find one day. Just like Nana and Granda John had.

"Got anything for me, Granda?" Caoimhe asks, teasingly, shoving nana's scone into her mouth.

Granda John chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, Kee, you never change."

Caoimhe grinned, still chewing, before swallowing dramatically. "Well? I feel a bit left out here."

"You've got plenty, young lady," Nana scolded playfully, swatting at her with a tea towel. "You think I don't see how your mother spoils you?"

Caoimhe held up her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. But you can't blame a girl for trying."

Granda reached into his pocket with a knowing smirk and pulled out a small bar of Cadbury's chocolate, tossing it to her. "There. Don't say I never give you anything."

Caoimhe's face lit up. "You're the best, Granda."

"I know," he said, settling back in his chair. "Don't let your brother steal it."

Conor, who had been eyeing the chocolate the second it left Granda's hand, scoffed. "As if I'd sink that low."

Rory snorted. "You literally stole my crisps last week."

"Borrowed," Conor corrected. "And you got them back in the form of an I.O.U."

Caoimhe rolled her eyes, peeling open the chocolate wrapper. "Yeah, that's not how it works, genius."

Granda just shook his head, amused. "You lot never change."

Nana placed a fresh tray of scones on the table, her gaze soft as she took us all in. "And I hope you never do."

"So..any plans for us today, nana? Or are ya just gonna spend time with your favourite grandchildren?" I teased, knowing my cousins Bailey, Owen, Sophie, Amara and Charlie are probably on their way.

Nana shot me a knowing look, smirking as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Ah, Mallory, don't be thinking you're my only favourites. You know I've got to spread the love evenly."

Caoimhe snorted. "Evenly? Please. We all know Rory's the golden boy."

Rory, who had been lazily stirring his tea, smirked. "What can I say? Some of us are just born special."

"Special, my arse," Conor muttered, earning a laugh from the rest of us.

Nana chuckled, shaking her head. "You lot are trouble, I swear."

Before she could answer my question properly, we heard the front door creak open, followed by the unmistakable sound of little feet running through the house.

"NANA!"

Little Amara's high-pitched voice rang through the air as she burst into the kitchen, Sophie right behind her, both girls beaming.

Nana barely had time to turn before Amara was launching herself into her arms. "Oh, my darling girl!" Nana laughed, holding her tightly. "Look at you, getting bigger every time I see you."

Sophie, slightly more reserved but just as happy, gave her a warm hug next. "Happy birthday, Nana."

"Ah, thank you, my love."

Owen and Charlie appeared next, dragging in behind them, already bickering about something.

"I'm telling ya, you're wrong," Charlie argued, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair.

Owen scoffed. "And I'm telling you, you don't have a clue what you're on about."

Nana rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. "You two never stop, do you?"

"Nope," they answered at the same time, causing a round of laughter.

Bailey came in after them without a word and went straight to nana, giving her a hug.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. "So, Nana, any plans for us now that the whole gang's here?"

She sighed dramatically, putting a hand to her chest. "Ah, I suppose I'll just have to suffer through the day surrounded by my wonderful, noisy grandchildren."

Granda John chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "And you wouldn't have it any other way."

She looked at all of us, her eyes warm and full of love. "No, I wouldn't."

As the day carried on, the house was filled with laughter, teasing, and the occasional argument over a game of cards. Nana had us all gathered in the sitting room, where she sat comfortably in her armchair, watching us like a queen surveying her kingdom.

But as the afternoon stretched on, I noticed her glancing toward the door every so often, her smile faltering just slightly before she covered it up.

Eventually, as Conor and Owen got into yet another ridiculous debate—this time about football—Nana turned to me, lowering her voice just enough so the others wouldn't hear.

"Where's AJ, love?" she asked, her brows furrowed with concern.

I hesitated, glancing at Granda John, who had noticed the question too. He didn't say anything, just sipped his tea and waited for my answer.

"He had training," I said quickly, though I knew that wasn't really the truth.

Nana gave me a pointed look. "On my birthday?"

I bit my lip. "He's been busy, Nana."

She sighed, shaking her head. "That boy..." She trailed off, staring at the window as if expecting him to come walking through the garden. "He used to never miss a birthday."

I shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly why AJ hadn't come. Things had been tense for a while now. Between school, his new girlfriend, and trying to figure out what he wanted to do for uni, he'd been pulling away from all of us. And I knew there was more to it than that, but I didn't want to bring it up today. Not when Nana was supposed to be enjoying herself.

"I'll tell him you were asking for him," I said gently.

She gave me a small smile, though I could see the sadness lingering in her eyes. "You do that, love. And tell him I miss him."

I nodded, making a silent promise to myself that I'd get AJ to come by soon. Even if I had to drag him here myself.

The day carried on, but Nana's question about AJ stuck with me. She didn't bring it up again, but I could tell she was thinking about it. Every now and then, she'd glance at the door, like she was still hoping he'd walk in.

Most of the cousins had wandered outside after we'd stuffed ourselves with scones and tea. Caoimhe and Bailey were sitting on the garden wall, watching Rory and Conor kick a football around, arguing about who had the better footwork— like either of them actually played football, Rory played rugby and Conor hurled. Little Amara was toddling after them, determined to join in, even though the ball was almost bigger than her.

I stayed inside with Nana, helping her clear the dishes while Granda John sat at the table, flipping through the newspaper.

"I know something's wrong," Nana said suddenly, her voice quiet.

I glanced up. "With who?"

She gave me a look, like I should already know the answer. "AJ."

I sighed, stacking the last of the plates in the sink. "He's just busy, Nana. You know what he's like. He's got school, hurling, all that college stuff on his mind."

Nana didn't look convinced. "It's more than that," she murmured, wiping the counter absently. "He's not himself lately."

I bit my lip, not sure how much to say. I'd noticed it too—how he'd been distant, barely home, brushing everyone off when they asked him what was wrong. It wasn't like AJ to avoid Nana, though. That was what worried me the most.

"He'll be fine," I said, trying to sound certain. "I'll talk to him."

Nana nodded, but she still didn't look convinced. "You tell him," she said, "that whatever's going on, he's always got a home here."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile. "I will."

She patted my cheek, smiling softly. "Good girl."

I didn't feel like a good girl, though. I felt like something was slipping, and I had no idea how to stop it.

The door swung open, and Uncle Sean stepped inside with his usual easy grin.

"Well, well, well, look who's finally here," Nana called, her voice light but with an edge of playful annoyance.

Sean flashed a grin at her, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair. "Had to make a grand entrance. You know how it is."

"Grand entrance my foot," Nana muttered under her breath, but there was no mistaking the affection in her voice as she turned to him. She walked over, gently swatting him on the arm. "You're always late, Sean."

Sean smiled at her, brushing it off with his usual charm. "Can't help it. I'm a busy man, you know Mam. Can't be home early if I'm making sure the world keeps spinning."

"Busy, busy, busy," Nana teased, shaking her head. She moved to put the kettle on, the usual hum of the house settling back into place.

Granda John, who'd been sitting at the table with his newspaper, glanced up. "Another hour and I might've gotten worried."

Sean chuckled and threw himself into the nearest chair, tossing his feet up on the table like it was his second home. "No need to worry, da. I'm here now."

I rolled my eyes and gave Sean a grin. "You're always the last to show up, Sean."

"True," he admitted with a wink, "but you all love me anyway."

Nana raised an eyebrow at him. "Some days, I wonder why."

I couldn't help but laugh. Nana and Sean always had this teasing dynamic, their banter as comfortable as the old couch I was sitting on. Sean was always full of charm, but there was a softness to him that made you feel like everything would be okay in the end.

"So," he said, turning to me as he grabbed a plate of scones. "How's AJ doing? He's not skipping out on the family today, is he?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to answer. I could already feel the question coming. The one that always made me squirm when it came to AJ.

"Busy with college stuff," I said quickly. "And hurling. He's probably at practice or something."

Sean leaned forward, eyeing me carefully. "Hurling, huh? Is that all?"

I bit my lip, trying to look casual, but I could feel Sean's gaze piercing right through me. He wasn't one to let things slide, especially when it came to AJ.

Before I could say anything, Nana chimed in, her voice light but firm. "Eat, Seany. You've had a long day. No need to keep bothering Mallory."

Sean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, Ma. I'll eat."

But I could see it in his eyes. He wasn't going to let it go. He knew something was up with AJ. And sooner or later, I'd have to deal with it. But for now, I was just glad I had Nana here to steer the conversation away from the real issue.

As Sean dug into the scones, I focused on trying to enjoy the day, even though I knew the quiet pressure was building. Eventually, he'd figure it out. And when he did, I wasn't sure how I'd explain it. But for now, I was just happy to be here with my family, pretending everything was normal.