The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

quick scan. Outlines where Shawn had hung pictures and whatnot stood out against the sun-faded paint. Dozens of nail holes pocked the walls as well, proving the man didn’t have a way with a hammer.
    But she could recall that whenever his mother had a whim to deal with his room, he’d just smiled and told her not to bother. He liked it just as it was.
    Brenna leaned against the doorjamb, already visualizing how to turn the neglected male space into a cheery nursery. And thinking, she let her gaze rest on her friends, who stood by the window looking out.
    Darcy with her gorgeous hair falling wild and free, Jude with her deep, rich brown hair bound neatly back. They were a contrast in styles, she supposed, with Darcy bright as the sun, and Jude subtle as a moonbeam. They were about the same height, about average for a woman, Brenna mused. Which put them both a good three inches over her. Their builds were similar as well, though Darcy had more in the curve department and didn’t trouble to hide it.
    They were both easily, unmistakably female.
    It wasn’t something Brenna envied—of course it wasn’t. But she did wish, just now and again, that she didn’t feel like such a fool whenever she put on a skirt and girl shoes.
    Since it wasn’t something she cared to dwell on, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and cocked her head.
    “How are you going to figure out what you want done in here if you stare out the window all day?”
    Jude turned, grinned so that her pretty, serious face lit up. “We’re watching Aidan on the beach with Finn.”
    “The man ran out like a rabbit,” Darcy put in as Brenna strolled over, “the minute we started talking paper and paint and fabrics. Said he had to exercise the dog.”
    “Well, now.” Brenna peeked out the window herself, spotted Aidan and the young dog, Finn, sitting on the beach and watching the water. “That’s a fine sight, anyway. A broad-shouldered man and a handsome dog on a winter’s beach.”
    “He’s thinking deep thoughts, I’ll wager, on impending fatherhood.” Darcy shot her brother a last look of affection, then turned, hands on hips. “And it’s up to us to deal with the practicalities of the matter while he sits and philosophizes.”
    Brenna gave Jude’s flat belly a friendly pat. “How’s it all going, then?”
    “Fine. The doctor says we’re both healthy.”
    “I heard you’re still queasy of a morning.”
    Jude rolled her sea-green eyes. “Aidan fusses. You’d think I was the first woman to conceive a child since Eve. It’s just a little morning sickness. It’ll pass.”
    “If it were me,” Darcy announced and flopped onto her brother’s old bed, “I’d play it up for all it was worth. Pampering, Jude Frances, you should rake in all the fussing and pampering you can manage. For when the baby comes, you’ll be too busy to remember your name. Remember when Betsy Duffy had her first, Brenna? She fell asleep every Sunday at Mass for two months running. With the second, she’d just sit there, wild-eyed and dazed, and by the time she had the third . . .”
    “All right.” Jude laughed and swatted at Darcy’s feet. “I get the picture. Right now, I’m just dealing with preparing for one. Brenna . . .” She lifted her hands. “These walls.”
    “Aye, they’re a sight, aren’t they? We can fix them up for you. Clean them up, patch the holes . . .” She flicked a finger over one as big as a penny. “Paint them proper.”
    “I’d thought of papering, but I decided paint’s better. Something sunny and simple. Then we can hang prints. Fairy-tale prints.”
    “You ought to hang your own drawings,” Brenna told her.
    “Oh, I don’t draw that well.”
    “Well enough to sell a book with your stories and your drawings in it,” Brenna reminded her. “I think your pictures are lovely, and it would mean more, wouldn’t it, to the baby as it grew to have something its mother had done hanging here.”
    “Really?” Jude tapped a finger on her lips, the pleasure of the idea obvious in her eyes. “I suppose I could have some framed, see how they looked.”
    “Candy-colored frames,” Brenna told her. “Babes like bright colors, or so Ma always says.”
    “All right.” Jude took a deep breath. “Now these floors. I don’t want to cover them, but they’ll need to be sanded and revarnished.”
    “That’s not a problem. Some of this trim needs to be replaced too. I can make some up to match the rest