A One-of-a-Kind Family

Anna looked so sincere.

So willing to fight for him to believe in them, just as she always seemed so willing to fight for Colm.

Liam suddenly wanted to lean over the coffee table to close the distance between them…and kiss her. The urge caught him totally unaware. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed that Anna was attractive. That smile and laugh—he couldn’t shake them. A guy would have to be dead not to appreciate either feature. And he’d quickly begun to admire that she was good at her job—good with his brother.

But wanting to kiss her?

No. The temptation was a surprise, but not one he could indulge in. Instead, he reached out and simply placed his hand on top of hers.

Maybe…

About the Author

In 2000, HOLLY JACOBS sold her first book. She’s since sold more than twenty-five novels. Her romances have won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks bestseller list. In 2005, Holly won a prestigious Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. In her non-writing life Holly is married to a police captain, and together they have four children. Visit Holly at www. hollyjacobs.com, or you can snail-mail her at PO Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102, USA.

A One-Of-A-Kind
Family
Holly Jacobs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This one is for everyone at

Harlequin’s Distribution Center.

Thanks for letting me spend the day.

I’m already planning on coming back

on a Friday next time!

CHAPTER ONE

“WE GOT the house,” Anna Chapel practically sang as she burst into The Sunrise Foundation’s small reception area. The first thing that caught her eye was the big sign that boldly and proudly announced: Sunrise Foundation, Helping Exceptional People Lead Exceptional Lives.

Today’s news was certainly going to go a long way toward helping a small group of Whedon, Pennsylvania’s exceptional people lead more independent, and certainly exceptional, lives.

“It’s ours,” she sang out again. “We got it.”

Anna was so excited she couldn’t contain the feeling any longer and wiggled her hips. There were some things in life that Anna felt she was blessed with, but there were others she knew she was not. Rhythm and her hair were two of the “were-not” areas. She wiggled her hips again and felt a few more of her Medusa curls escape her ponytail, but she was simply too happy to mind.

“Was that a dance?” her friend Deanne Cellino, Ceelie as she was known, laughed. “Because if it was…” She shook her head and her long blond hair swished back and forth along her shoulders—shoulders that were so much higher than Anna’s five-foot five-inch frame. Anna always thought of Ceelie as a bit Amazonian—she looked like a warrior, but had the heart of an earth mother. She always got warm and fuzzy over the small things.

“Hey, that was a Snoopy Dance of Joy, my friend. And you’re not going to dim my absolute glee by pointing out that I have no sense of rhythm. If there was such a thing as an anti-rhythm, I realize that’s what I’d have. But when one is dancing a Snoopy Dance, all you need is joy and I’ve got that. Come on.”

She grabbed Ceelie’s hands and Snoopy-danced again. Ceelie was laughing so hard that all she did was stand there, but she finally got herself under control and did a bit of a jig as well.

“You are absolutely crazy, girl,” Ceelie assured Anna with a friend’s affection.

“I might be, but you’re talking to a crazy person who got the house. It’s so perfect, Ceelie. Three bedrooms, two full baths. A ranch, so with the addition of a ramp, it’s handicap-accessible and it’s—”

“Perfect,” Ceelie filled in for her.

Anna sighed, still riding the glow of her success. “Yes, perfect for our clients. It will make a great group home.”

All her joyful dancing had drained off enough of her excess energy that Anna could sit down. She plopped onto the small loveseat in the reception area. “Now, the work begins. We need to get our variance from the zoning board, then start the renovations and…” Her sentence faded as she started mulling over the long list of jobs that lay ahead of her.

“Listen, enjoy the moment. Don’t worry too much about what’s coming up and what’s behind you. Live in the now.”

“Deanne Cellino, ladies and gentlemen,” Anna said to a nonexistent audience, “mystic, sage, warrior princess and all-around advisor to the world.”

Ceelie blew a raspberry in her direction. “You know I’m right.”

“Yes, I do.” Anna studied her friend. Ceelie liked to say she was vertically challenged, but her abundance of height was needed to contain her giant spirit. Ceelie was one of those people who always seemed to have things together. She balanced a demanding job and parenting two children with apparent ease.

Anna and Ceelie made up the entire staff of The Sunrise Foundation. Anna and Ceelie served as life coaches. Ceelie had come up with the job title and Anna always thought it was an apt description for a job that varied based on each client’s highly individual medical and emotional needs.

Ceelie’s smile faded a bit. “And not that I’m anxious to bring down your happy mood, but your mother called.”

“Oh.” Anna forced a smile she didn’t feel. Her mother calling during a work day never boded well. “Did she say what she wants?”

“She wants you to call her back as soon as possible. She said she tried your cell, but it went to voice mail.”

“I turned it off at my meeting with the real-estate agent, haven’t turned it back on yet.” She reached in her bag, pulled out the phone and switched it on, then scrolled through the missed calls—four from her mother. No, this did not bode well.

“You should probably give her a call. You have an appointment in half an hour with that new case.” Ceelie somehow honed in on the correct file that was midway through a huge stack and handed it to her. “A thirty-year-old who’s been in his brother’s custody for two years since their parents died in a car accident.”

Anna looked at the file labeled Colm Franklin. She opened it and found that other than an initial fact sheet, it was empty. Normally clients came to Sunrise with all kinds of documentation from other programs. “No notes?”

“None. He was in special-ed classes back in high school. Long before Whedon practiced mainstreaming. Once he finished school, he stayed home with his mother.”

“Oh. Do we have anything from the school?”

“It’s so long ago at this point that it’s not really worth much—that would be my thought. Though you can call and see what the school has.”

“Even if I find something, I’m basically starting from scratch, right?” She shut the folder.

“Yes, that’s about the gist of it.”

“Any insights on the brother?” Family members called Sunrise for a variety of reasons. It helped to know what they wanted from the program.

The Sunrise Foundation was a small non-profit organization that survived on a shoe-string budget with grants from both government and charitable foundations. The money for the new group home came from a huge grant last year. Ceelie had become a grant-writing pro, but there was never quite enough money to accomplish everything they’d like to do. And at Sunrise, everything was pretty much anything. From helping clients find housing, to teaching them to handle money, to helping some learn basic life-skills. Anna had taught clients to cook, to use a cell phone and even to tie their shoes. They’d helped place clients in jobs, and…Basically they facilitated whatever a particular client needed to improve their quality of life.

Anna’s job description changed on a daily basis for each of her fifteen clients. And the amount of time she worked with each client changed as well. Some needed more intense interaction, some just minimal support.

“Liam Franklin, the brother, is self-employed. Something to do with computers and security.” Ceelie shrugged. “You know me and technology.”

Anna did know. Ceelie could manage a word processor or spreadsheet on the computer, but other than that, she did nothing more complex than e-mail.

“Liam works out of his home office most of the time, but he has to travel for business and is looking for a babysitter for Colm when he does. He got a referral from his doctor, and assured me in no uncertain terms that he wanted nothing more than that. Just a babysitter.”

Anna ran her fingers through her wildly springy hair. For years she’d tried products, haircuts, flat irons…. Finally, she’d reached the ripe old age of twenty-eight and admitted that she didn’t have the time. She was going to embrace her outer Medusa and let her hair live the life it was destined to lead. After all, that was her job too: helping people lead the best lives they were capable of. She looked at the Sunrise motto again. Helping Exceptional People Lead Exceptional Lives.

It was such a simple concept, and so succinct. Too bad some families never understood it.

She wondered what kind of person Colm’s brother—who simply wanted a babysitter—was. Maybe this new client was so severely limited that he needed that kind of care, but maybe he could do more…That sense of the possible, the idea of helping someone discover they could accomplish more than they ever imagined—that’s what kept Anna doing what she did.

“Just a babysitter,” she murmured, more to herself than to Ceelie.

“You can handle it,” Ceelie, a Pollyanna in disguise, said.

Anna nodded. “Sure. I’ll do what’s best for…” She glanced at the file. “Colm. Colm Franklin. After I call my mother back.”

“Colm doesn’t know how lucky he is,” Ceelie assured her.

Anna hoped lucky was the word Colm and his brother would someday use to describe their first meeting at Sunrise.

She got up and headed for her private office to call her mother. Although, she was already sure that there was some new crisis—one that probably involved a man in one way or another. She couldn’t remember who her mother’s current boyfriend was. The names changed so frequently, it was hard to keep up.

“Hey, Anna,” Ceelie hollered.

Anna turned around and looked at her friend, who did another little Snoopy Dance. “You got the house.”

Anna’s spirit immediately lifted. “You’re right, we got the house.”

LIAM FRANKLIN pulled up in front of the small brick office front on Main Street. Whedon, Pennsylvania, was a small town south of Erie. There wasn’t much to it, so he knew he must have driven by this building every day for years, yet he’d never noticed the sign in the window that proclaimed The Sunrise Foundation, with a rainbow and sun framing the words.

He checked the business card again.

Colm had lived with Liam since their parents died. Because Liam ran his computer security firm from home, things had gone well until work demanded he travel more. Taking Colm with him wasn’t an option, and his day-help, Aunt Betty, didn’t like staying overnight. So, Liam had contacted Colm’s physician, thinking he might know of a babysitter who’d had experience working with people with special needs. The doctor had referred him to The Sunrise Foundation, and he’d talked to some woman named Ceelie there who had set up this appointment with this life coach, Anna Chapel.

This Anna Chapel had been assigned his brother’s case.

He didn’t like that Colm was in the system. Well, not really in the system. Sunrise was a private foundation that came very highly recommended. The fact that it was a community-based organization meant it was able to provide resources that each individual needed. Well, Colm didn’t need anything except someone to stay with him when Liam was out of town, an occurrence that was happening more frequently.

Balancing his job and his brother’s needs made him really feel for working single parents. It seemed there was never a minute that he wasn’t doing something…and often he was five steps behind.

Liam walked into the office and a bell above the front door rang merrily. He stood in the reception area. There was a loveseat and a desk with a phone and computer. But the walls…the walls were amazing. They were decorated with framed pictures ranging from childish scrawls to a few more practiced ones. He was studying a particularly pretty sunrise—or maybe sunset—over a large body of water, when someone cleared their throat behind him.

Liam turned and found a woman with the biggest hair he’d ever seen standing in a doorway, smiling at him. Her hair wasn’t really styled big on purpose—you didn’t need to be a hairdresser to see that. Rather it was big in a too-many-curls-for-one-small head-to-have sort of way.

“Well, hello,” the woman said. “Welcome to Sunrise. How can I help you?” The words tumbled over one another in a single breath. She exuded a boundless energy that she seemed to try hard to contain.

“I have a meeting with Anna Chapel.”

“Oh, you must be Liam Franklin.” She hurried to him, thrust a hand out and continued, “It’s so nice to meet you. Let’s go to my office and see what we can do for you and your brother, Colm.”

He shook her hand, then followed her through the reception area, trying not to notice how her myriad of curls bounced about her head as she walked. If he were back in second grade, the urge to pull one and watch it spring back in place would have been too much to resist. But he was thirty and here on adult business.

Anna led him to a neat office. The desk and shelves were immaculately organized. So neat in fact that they almost looked sterile. But these walls were completely covered in artwork as well. The overall effect was anything but sterile. It was happy art. He couldn’t help but notice a lot of sunrises and rainbows.

She followed his gaze and smiled. “We ask our clients to make us pictures. It helps the office feel like home, don’t you think?”

Before he could answer, she added, “The picture out front that you were studying was made by Josh Hampton. He’s a talented artist despite the limitations he has with his hands. Most of our clients are far more enthusiastic than gifted, but we treasure all our pictures.”

She gestured toward a chair and then, rather than going behind her desk, she took the chair next to it. “I’ve got the papers you sent over, and everything looks like it’s in order.”

“Great. So you’ve got a babysitter for us, or can get one?” he asked, somewhat anxiously.

Her smile faded and she shook her head. “Yes. But while Sunrise will be able to help you find respite care, we offer so much more. I’d like to schedule a meeting with your brother as soon as possible. His file is very light. We could do a few tests and—”

The urge to spring to his feet and leave was almost overwhelming. Liam resisted. He clutched the arm of the chair and forced himself to speak softly and slowly. “Listen, Ms. Chapel, I didn’t come to you in order to have my brother assessed in any way. He went through all that years ago. Well, Colm is special and he’s not something you can label and chart. He’s not an IQ number or any other sort of definition you want to assign him. He’s a person. A totally unique person. So I don’t want your tests. And I really don’t want him to be some name on a file. All I need is someone able to deal with his particular needs when I have to travel. I was told that your foundation could see to that.”

“We can help you with that,” she assured him. “But we offer so much more. We can help your brother—”

“Colm. His name is Colm. Not ‘the patient’ or ‘the client.’ He’s far more than either of those things.”

“Mr. Franklin, the last thing I want to do is make you feel that your brother would be or is simply a client or file for me. My job is to help Colm be as self-sufficient as he can. Sunrise Foundation’s purpose is what our mission statement says—we help exceptional people lead exceptional lives. We provide advice and assistance with every aspect of housing, employment, medical care, education—”

“Colm has me,” Liam assured her. Even before his parents died, he’d always known Colm was ultimately his responsibility. And he was willing to do whatever he had to in order to keep his brother happy and content. “I’m all he needs. And all I need is some help—”

“I’m not trying to railroad you into anything. I simply want to meet your brother and see what, if anything, we can offer him in order to make his life better. And that’s what you want, right? To see Colm live his life to its full potential?”

Okay, so what could he say to that? What he wanted to say was back off and leave them alone. They were doing fine.

What he wanted to do was tear up the papers he’d signed for Sunrise and take the manila folder that had Colm’s name on the tab away from this curly-haired, smiling woman.

They were fine.

Granted, he’d never planned on assuming total responsibility for his brother so soon. He could still remember the day. His parents had gone to a show in Buffalo and he’d been staying with Colm. At some point, Liam had drifted off. He’d awakened disoriented when there was a knock on the door and he’d opened it to find a policeman with a sober expression standing on the porch.

“Mr. Franklin?” It took Liam a moment to realize that Ms. Chapel was saying his name, not the cop from the past.

He shut out the sad memory. “Fine. You can meet him, but tread lightly. I don’t want him upset. Since we lost my parents two years ago, I’ve worked hard to see to it he’s got a sense of stability and normalcy.”

“Mr. Franklin, honestly, I’m a life coach. My only goal is to help your brother, not upset him.” She stood and extended her hand. “I’ll see you at your place tomorrow at nine, if that works for you.”

He didn’t want to shake her hand. It felt as if he’d be agreeing to let her into their lives, even after tomorrow. But she stood there, hand extended a fraction of a second longer than he’d probably have waited, and he found himself taking it anyway.

“I’m only agreeing to let you arrange for a babysitter, and to meet him tomorrow,” he warned her. “It’s only a meeting.”

She nodded, her curly hair boinging every which way. “Let’s start with tomorrow and take it from there.”

She escorted him to the front door and waved as he left. Just the motion of her hand was enough to set her shoulder-length curls bouncing.

Liam left the office not sure what had happened.

He’d simply wanted to arrange a babysitter.

And he was leaving with Anna Chapel coming to the house tomorrow.

No. That meeting hadn’t gone the way he’d expected.

CHAPTER TWO

THE NEXT DAY, Anna arrived at the Franklin house promptly at nine. She was as prepared as she could possibly be. She’d read Colm’s thin file. He’d been oxygen deprived at birth. The medical term was hypoxia, but medical definitions weren’t her concern.

He’d been labeled slow by one doctor, intellectually disabled by another. The last assessment had placed his cognitive age at eight. She put all those previous reports aside. She didn’t care how he’d been tested and labeled. She only cared about how she could use that knowledge to help Colm live his life to the fullest.

His brother, Liam, had certainly been on the defensive yesterday. Anna knew some people might find it off-putting, but she found the way he defended his brother attractive. Unfortunately, it was just one of many qualities she found attractive about Liam Franklin. But since he was Colm’s guardian…No, she couldn’t think of him as attractive in any way.

She took a long, deep breath to clear the image of Liam from her thoughts and instead, concentrated on the weather.

It was one of those balmy, mid-April days that made it easy to believe another winter was officially over.

The minute she saw the Franklins’ white two-story house surrounded by a blaze of red tulips, she was struck by a case of porch envy.

Some people dreamed about picket fences or tons of acreage or living in the right fashionable neighborhood.

Anna dreamed about porches.

Porches like this one.

It extended at least eight feet away from the house, and wasn’t simply a front porch, it was a wrap-around one as far as Anna could see from the sidewalk.

Of course, the porch was a bit barren-looking. Only two old folding lawn chairs sat on it, and the paint had long since started fading and peeling. But with a little elbow grease…

Someday.

Someday she’d move out of her apartment and buy her own house with a huge front porch. Then she’d paint it some merry color—maybe green—and furnish it with big white wicker furniture that had overstuffed cushions. In the mornings she’d sit on the porch, have a cup of coffee and read her paper before going into work. Then in the evenings, she’d come home, and after dinner, she’d be on her porch watching the day turn to dusk and maybe smiling at neighbors who strolled by.

Anna sighed. It was a lovely fantasy.

But right now, she didn’t have time for fantasy. She had a job to do.

She walked onto the beautiful object of her porch envy and rang the doorbell. A matronly looking lady who reminded Anna faintly of Aunt Bee on the Andy Griffith Show answered the door. Tinier even than Anna, and roundish, the woman had salt-and-pepper hair, with a heavier emphasis on the salt. When she saw Anna, she smiled and a pair of dimples swallowed her cheeks. “Hello, you must be Ms. Chapel. Come in, dear.”

Once Anna was inside, the woman introduced herself. “I’m Betty Taylor.”

The fact that Anna had a mere second ago thought that the woman resembled Sheriff Andy Taylor’s aunt on the Andy Griffith show made her smile.

“Liam wanted to be here, but he had a last-minute emergency with some local account and had to go. He wasn’t very happy he couldn’t be here to meet you himself.”

Anna almost laughed at one of the biggest understatements she’d ever heard. She was positive that Liam had wanted to be here to monitor her meeting with Colm.

“He said you’d be coming and that you’d be wanting to meet our Colm,” the woman continued. “This way, dear.”

She showed Anna into the living room where there was a man who looked remarkably like Liam Franklin. More than remarkably like him—he looked exactly like Liam. They were twins. Somewhere around five-ten. Dark-brown hair and very blue eyes that were so much more open—happier—than Liam’s had seemed. Where Liam peered at her distrustfully, this man smiled as he got up from his Lego and hurried over to her. “Hi, I’m Colm.”

“And I’m Anna.”

He hugged her and said, “Hi, Anna. You wanna play Legos?”

“Why don’t I let you two talk,” Mrs. Taylor said and left them alone.

“Aunt Betty is makin’ cookies for us. She said we feed company. Aunt Betty likes to feed people. She really likes feedin’ company, but we don’t have much of that since Mommy and Daddy went to heaven. Liam, he’s too busy for company.”

As if that was all the introduction and information Anna needed, Liam returned to his building bricks. When she didn’t immediately follow, he waved his hand in her direction impatiently. “Come on.”

Anna sat down next to him on the floor and surveyed the pile of blocks. “So what are we playing?”

“I’m building a magic school like they got on the Wizards show I like. It’s on Disney, and Liam likes Disney ’cause there ain’t no bad words, so I get to watch it lots. I need the blue bricks.”

For the next hour Anna sat on the floor digging through a huge pile of Lego for the blue bricks, and handing them to Colm as she asked him questions about his likes and dislikes, how he filled his days.

She wasn’t sure what Liam had expected, but she always assessed her clients in as gentle a manner as possible. At thirty, Colm had long since passed the school system and his family had never enrolled him in any other community program or activities. “…and then I eat lunch. Sometimes, Liam’s here and works, but sometimes he works someplace not here and it’s me and Aunt Betty.” He dropped his voice to a very loud stage whisper and said, “She’s not really my aunt, but I love her, so she sorta is, and it’s okay to call her aunt, Liam says. Liam says our family is sorta small, so addin’ an aunt is good.”

“Liam says.” It was the phrase that had punctuated their hour-long conversation.

“Liam says bedtime’s at nine.”

“Liam says vegetables before dessert.”

“Liam says don’t answer the door.”

Liam said a lot of things. And the things he said seemed to illustrate a deep sense of caring and commitment for his brother. As bristly as he’d been with Anna, she suspected that he had an entirely different demeanor here with Colm.

It was easy to see that he strived to give Colm a stable, loving home. But Anna suspected Colm could do more than what his brother thought.

“Aunt Betty came to help after Mommy and Daddy went to the angels.” For a moment, Colm stopped building and looked at her with the first trace of sadness she’d seen in him. “I miss ’em.”

“My father is with the angels, too,” Anna told him. She’d only been sixteen when her father passed away. “I miss him, but it’s nice to think he’s watching over me.”

“Yeah, Liam says Mommy was always watchin’ me, so why would her being with angels stop her? He says that she’s probably makin’ the angels come watch me, too. She really loved me.”

Anna chased away the memories of losing her father. She’d long since come to terms with it, and though she missed him, she remembered the good times more than the pain. “I bet she did, Colm.”

“Liam says you’re gonna help find me a babysitter for when Aunt Betty can’t come. She don’t like spendin’ too many nights away from Mr. Taylor, ’cause he gets lonely.”

“Is that what you want, Colm?” Anna asked. “Someone to come stay with you?”

Colm seemed confused by her question. “That’s what Liam says. A babysitter for me is what we need.”

“Yes, it is. But what do you want?”

Colm stood up and started to leave the room. “I wanna get some of those cookies and milk. You want some?”

“Sure.”

He took her into the kitchen and said, “Aunt Betty, we want some cookies and milk, please.”

“You two have a seat and I’ll get them—”

Anna needed to get a feel for what Colm could do, so she said, “Actually, Mrs. Taylor. I was hoping you’d come sit with me for a minute. Maybe Colm would get us both some cookies and milk?”

Colm frowned. “I don’t pour milk, ’cause I make a mess.”

“Tell you what, you pour the milk and if you make a mess, I’ll help you clean it up,” Anna promised.

Colm looked to Mrs. Taylor. She nodded and motioned Anna to join her at the table.

Both women watched Colm go to the cabinet and take one glass out, walk it to the island, then go back for another….

“Mrs. Taylor, I’m sure Mr. Franklin told you why I was here.”

Her eyes never leaving Colm, Mrs. Taylor said, “Yes. I love Colm with all my heart, but I can’t be with him as much as Liam needs me to be. Daytimes are fine, since Mr. Taylor has his club, but he likes me home at night, and to be honest, I’m old enough that I need to be home at night. I like going to sleep in my own bed, in my own house.”

“I understand, Mrs. Taylor. I need to ask you honestly, do you think Colm is living up to his full potential?”

“Until this very moment, I wouldn’t have even asked myself that.”

Colm had all three glasses lined up in perfect order on the counter. He got out the half-gallon container of milk, left the refrigerator door open and slowly removed the cap from the carton.

“Colm, you should probably shut the door to the fridge,” Anna said, then looked back to Mrs. Taylor who was still watching Colm pour the first glass of milk perfectly.

“Maybe we have coddled him. He’s doing fine, isn’t he?”

When all three glasses were poured, Colm put the lid back on the plastic container, returned it to the refrigerator and carried the glasses over one at a time.

He started to pick up cookies from the rack that they were cooling on, and Anna said, “It’s probably more polite to put them on a plate, Colm.”

“Oh, yeah. Aunt Betty always does that.” He hurried off to the cupboard and grabbed a salad plate, piled it high with a stack of cookies, and with one hand on the top of the pile, and the other holding the plate, made his way to the table. He set the plate down carefully, but when he took his hand off the stack, the cookies tumbled. “Oh, no, I goofed. I can’t—”

Anna picked up a cookie and put it back on the plate. “Hey, cookies fall. No biggie. If they fall, you pick them up.”

“Ten-second rule?” he asked Mrs. Taylor.

“They’re not on the floor but the table, so there’s a lot more than ten seconds when something falls on a table,” the older woman assured him.

Colm broke into a smile and repiled the cookies. He looked proud as he announced, “There, I did it.”

“You did,” Anna agreed.

“I didn’t even spill the milk. I was real careful.”

“You did great,” she told him. “But even if you’d made a mess, you could have cleaned it up. If you spill milk, you wipe it up.”

“Yeah. If you knock cookies down you pick them up, and if you make a mess, you clean it.”

Anna hadn’t realized he was going to take her off-the-cuff comments to heart. She’d have to remember that. “Right, Colm. Everyone has accidents. All that matters is that when you do, you clean them up and try to do better the next time.”

They all ate their cookies, and Anna caught Mrs. Taylor giving her furtive looks as if she were trying to decide whether Anna would be good for Colm. Anna suspected if Mrs. Taylor decided that she wouldn’t be good for him, she’d be as fierce defending Colm as Liam had been.

When they finished, Colm said, “Hey, I’ll clean up ’cause I brought it all over. I can do it.”

“I’m sure you can, Colm,” Anna told him. “Thank you.”