Full time at the garage

Kian

School was starting up again, and honestly, it felt like a joke. Like some kind of background noise I was supposed to pay attention to—but couldn't. Not when my whole world was wrapped up in a wriggly little baby with a mop of dark hair and the softest eyes I'd ever seen.

Mal and I spent every minute of the summer wrapped around Orla. Feeding her, rocking her to sleep, waking up in the middle of the night when she cried—then doing it all again like it wasn't the hardest, most exhausting and beautiful thing in the world.

Orla's gotten very attached to both of us, especially Mal. And I've gotten completely, stupidly, head-over-heels attached to her too. She's mine. Our sweet girl. My daughter. My tiny best friend who has no idea what a mess the world is yet.

She's the most precious thing I've ever held. I look at her and see everything good I want to be. I see Mal in her smile—already cheeky. I see a future I didn't think I'd have. Something good. Something pure. She owns my heart, just like her mam always has.

My Lynch girls.

That's what I call them in my head. My Lynch girls.

Because there was no way she was ever going to have my last name. I fought Mal hard on that at first, not because I didn't trust her choice, but because I needed to be sure she understood why it mattered so much. Why I couldn't let our daughter carry the name of the man who wrecked every bit of peace I ever had.

I didn't want Orla tied to that history. To the shouting, the drinking, the slammed doors and broken promises. She deserved better. Mal and I—we were building better.

The plan is simple: finish this year, save whatever I can from working at the garage, and get us out. Me, Mam, and Emi—we'll find a place near Mal's. Maybe with a tiny garden Orla can play in when she's old enough to walk. I'll cook dinner, drive Mal to college if she ends up going, do the night feeds when she's wrecked. I'll do it all. I want to do it all.

Because this is it for me.

Them. Her.

Orla's laugh. Mal's tired smile when she sees me walk through the door. Emi cuddling her niece like she's the best thing in the whole world.

That's the life I want.

That's the only thing that matters now.

Sitting in the Lynch living room, my arm around Mal as she cradled our sleeping daughter against her chest, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Orla was so peaceful in her little pink onesie, her breath soft and steady as she snuggled against her mam.

But then, the door to the living room creaked open and Joey popped his head in, his white shirt stained with grease. His usual rugged demeanor seemed slightly out of place next to the warmth and calm of our home, but it was Joey, so I wasn't exactly surprised.

"Kian?" He said, voice gruff as usual. "Mind helping me out? I need to chat to ya anyways."

I pressed a soft kiss to Mal's forehead, watching her for a moment as she adjusted Orla in her arms. I loved seeing them together, it felt right, like nothing in the world could shake us.

"Sure," I muttered, getting up and following Joey out of the room, my mind still on Mal and the little one, but I knew better than to leave him hanging.

We stepped into the garden, and I saw Joey was busy with a bike. A pink one. It stood out like a sore thumb next to all the greasy garage equipment. I squinted at it for a second, thinking about the future, about how one day Orla might be tearing up and down the driveway on it. That thought made me smile, even if it was a little strange to picture. But this wasn't about that bike—Joey was probably wanting to talk about work.

"What's up, Joey?" I asked, leaning against the wall next to him.

He wiped his hands on a rag, looking over his shoulder at me. "I'm working on this bike for someone," he said, a slight shrug in his shoulders as if it wasn't important. "But I've been thinking, Kian... you've been helping me a lot lately, haven't you?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, been getting my hands dirty."

"Good, good," he continued, clearly searching for the right words. "You know, Tony Molloy took me in full-time after AJ was born. Worked alongside him in the garage, took over when he stepped back. And I was thinking... if you're interested, I could do the same for you, once you finish school next year, of course."

I stared at him for a second, my mind catching up to what he was suggesting. "You want me to work with you full-time at the garage?"

He met my eyes, a serious look on his face. "Aye. You've got the skills, and you've shown you can stick it out. I've been meaning to ask you for a while now. But now, with Orla... I figured it would be time."

I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. It wasn't just a job; this was a chance. A chance to build something solid for Mal, Orla, and me. A chance to finally step away from the chaos my own dad dragged me through and create something better.

"I'm honored, Joey," I said, my voice steady. "I want to make this work, for Orla, for Mal. But I need to make sure I'm doing what's right for them."

Joey nodded, his expression softening slightly. "You're already doing that, Kian. You've stepped up for your family, and that's all I could ask for. Think about it."

I glanced back at the house, where Mal was probably still holding Orla close. I thought about how this offer, this chance, could be the way forward. Not just for me, but for all of us.

"I'll think about it," I said, my mind already running through the possibilities. "But I'm in. I'll figure it out."

Joey slapped me on the back. "Good man," he said. "Let me know when you're ready."

As I walked back inside, I couldn't help but feel a bit lighter. A new chapter was coming, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was finally in control of it.

"So, your da offered me a full-time position at the garage, you know, when we finish next year," I said, sitting down next to Mal on the couch, my hands still a little shaky from the conversation.

Mal looked up at me, her eyes bright with curiosity. She had Orla cradled in her arms, the little one still so tiny, her chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm as she slept.

"Wait, really?" Mal asked, her tone a mix of surprise and excitement. "You think that's something you want to do?"

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the decision hanging in the air. "Yeah, it's a big deal, Mal. Your da offered me a chance to work with him full-time, like your granda did with him after AJ was born. I've been helping out at the garage, but this is different. It's like... he wants to give me a real chance to build something, you know?"

Mal's eyes softened, and she smiled, her gaze drifting to Orla for a moment before meeting mine again. "I think it's amazing, Kian. You've got skills, and we could use the stability, especially with the baby."

I swallowed hard, taking in the way she was looking at me—like she trusted me to make the right choice, like we were already building a future together.

"It's not just the stability," I said, my voice low. "It's more than that. I need to get out of that house, Mal. I want to give Orla and you everything I never had. I can't keep living with my da. It's... it's not safe, and I can't keep letting him drag me down."

She nodded, her hand gently brushing Orla's hair, and I felt her fingers intertwining with mine.

"I know," she said softly, "We'll make it work. You'll make it work. You've always found a way."

My heart swelled at her words. This was it, this was the real deal. No more just surviving. It was time for us to thrive. For Orla, for Mal, for all of us.

"I'm gonna do this, Mal. I'm gonna take the job. I'm gonna get us out of there. I'll work as hard as I have to, but we're getting out. We're gonna have the life we deserve."

Mal's eyes sparkled, and she leaned over to kiss me, a soft, tender kiss that meant everything.

"I believe in you, Kian. I always have."

In that moment, I knew we were on the right path. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever was. We had each other, and with Orla, everything felt like it was finally falling into place.

We were starting our own story, our own future. And nothing was going to stop us.

"I love you Mallory Grace Lynch." I grinned and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too Kian Christopher Lynch." She teased, knowing one day I'd take her name.

"You know Mal, I'm glad you're mine princess."

"Only yours Ki. Only yours."