Chapter Text
When the cars finally pulled into Portnoo and up to their caravan, it was almost dark. The mess with Emmett and the waitress had dragged into midday, and when they’d finally crossed into the Free State, everyone was exhausted.
Erin had fallen asleep in the backseat of the car, listening to her grandfather rail about his son-in-law’s inability to protect the tent, and when she woke up, she heard yelling.
“How’re we all to fit, Gerry? The caravan’s too small by half, and we’ve no tent!”
She winked one eye open. She was alone in the backseat, alone in the car. Everyone was pacing around outside, listening to Mary’s fit.
“The wains can sleep in the cars,” Sarah interrupted, and everyone turned to stare. “Well, you and the baby need to be inside, and Da can’t handle sleeping on those rough seats, and I’m too tired to not sleep in a house.”
Erin’s eyes went wide.
“Aye, that makes the most sense. Erin, you and Michelle and the wee English take Granda’s car; Orla and Clare can split the other.” Mary’s voice was clipped to the extreme, a signal that she would accept no argument.
Michelle threw open the door to the Volvo. “So not only am I stuck with you and your family, I’ve to sleep in the back of the feckin’ station wagon!”
“It was your ma’s idea, Michelle, not mine!” Erin unfolded out of the car, stretching her legs. “Besides, you can curse all you want and we won’t yell at you.”
James looked at both of them. “And where will I sleep?”
Michelle snapped back. “In the front seat, dicko.”
“Does it go back?”
“Sometimes,” Granda yelled, hauling Anna and a suitcase into the caravan. “But don’t break it, you bleedin’ eejit.”
***
When Erin, James, and Michelle settled down to sleep – after fighting with the front passenger’s seat and arguing over who got which blankets – Erin found herself restless. Michelle was sleeping like a starfish, pushing Erin into the side of the car. Even with the backseat down, she was cramped, and Michelle threw off heat like a furnace.
“James,” she whispered, to no avail. “James!” No response.
She took a hairband wrapped around her wrist and shot it at his face. “Jesus Michelle! What?” His head snapped around, and he glared at her. “What the hell, Erin? I’d just fallen asleep.”
“I can’t sleep. Michelle is too warm and kicks too much.”
“Well, I’m not sleeping back there.”
Erin huffed. “Then I’ll come sleep in the driver’s side.” Before James could argue, she dragged herself over the center console and plopped into the seat, working it back. She pulled her blanket from the backseat and settled it over herself. It wasn’t great, but it was better than waking up with Michelle’s knee lodged in her spine.
James was eyeing her. “You warm enough?”
“I’m fine.” Truth be told, she was a bit cold, but suffering made for great art. Or so they said.
She closed her eyes, trying like hell to fall asleep. She shifted from side to side, shivering a bit. Her jacket was warm enough, but her hands and feet were freezing. Her teeth chattered, and in one particularly fitful moment as she tossed in the sear, her mood ring hit the window behind her.
“Erin.” She opened her eyes and looked in the direction of the noise. James was looking at her, a mix of annoyance and care on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Just a wee bit cold.” She rubbed her hands together, blowing on them. He shook his head.
“Give them here.”
Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the discomfort, maybe it was just because he was there, but she obliged. She held her hands out – bricks of ice that they were – and James put his hands over them, rubbing between his palms.
“That feels nice.” Erin looked at him, waiting for a smirk or a sneer. Nothing – just James, warming her hands, quietly not making eye contact.
Like a friend would do.
She felt herself grow tired and her eyelids slide shut; snuggling into the collar of her jacket, she drifted off as James’ hands slowed – but remained around hers.
When she woke up, stiff and cold in the Volvo, her right hand remained woven into his left. Fearing Michelle’s inevitable commentary, she worked her hand loose from his grip, tucking it under her thigh.
“Feckin’ hell,” Michelle mumbled from the backseat. “I’m never going on vacation with you or your family again.”
Erin looked over at James, smiled, and turned to Michelle. “Two more nights to go.”