SEEKING 7 | boys of tommen

t o d a y

Today was the day.

Joey was finally coming home. The excitement buzzed in the air, palpable and electric, as we all scurried around, preparing for the moment. The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity early that morning, the smell of fresh icing and cake filling the air as we mixed batter, baked, and frosted in a hurry. Shannon was putting the final touches on the banner we had made the night before—a bright, bold "Welcome Home, Joey" stretched across in glittering letters. It wasn't perfect, but that made it even better. This was all new for us, after all. We'd never had to prepare for something like this.

Joey had been gone for what felt like an eternity. We all had our own ways of dealing with the empty space his absence left, but now... now he was coming back. The party was our way of showing him how much we had missed him—how much we cared.

When Joey walked through the front door, the entire world seemed to stand still. He looked as good as gold, like the Joey we remembered, but maybe a little different. Taller, older. His hair a little longer. But his smile—it was the same, warm and full of that familiar mischief.

I stood there, holding the cake with trembling hands, my heart pounding in my chest. Gibsie loomed behind me, and Sean was sitting on Johnny's shoulders, clutching a bunch of balloons so tightly I worried they'd pop. Across the room, Ollie and Shannon held up the banner, wide smiles on their faces as they proudly showed off their handiwork.

Nanny Murphy, bless her heart, sat by the picnic table we'd decorated earlier, her knitting needles clinking as she watched the commotion with a small, knowing smile. John and Darren hovered by her, making sure everything was in place, glancing every now and then at the door, just like the rest of us. We were all waiting for that first glimpse.

"He's back, guys," Ollie whispered, his voice cracking with excitement as he nudged Shannon with his elbow. "Look, it's really Joey!"

When Joey stepped out of the car, all of us sprang to our feet at once. It was instinct. We couldn't wait anymore. I rushed forward, almost tripping over my own feet in my haste, my eyes filling with tears as I flung my arms around him. I pressed kisses all over his face before being jostled aside by Ollie, who pushed his way to the front with a huge grin on his face.

"Hey! I wasn't finished!" I laughed, wiping the tears from my eyes as I stepped back, giving Ollie his moment.

"I knew you'd do it," Ollie said, looking up at Joey like he was some sort of hero. "I knew you'd come back for us, Joe."

Joey smiled, ruffling Ollie's hair. "Of course I did, buddy."

I glanced around the group, trying to find Gibsie, but before I could, a loud crash echoed behind me.

"Jaysus, Gibs!" Johnny growled, yanking Gibsie off the top of the pile of siblings who had surrounded Joey. He helped Shannon to her feet, shaking his head in exasperation. "Can't you let them have their moment for one second?"

"Not attention, Johnny, just a belly rub," Gibsie replied, undeterred, and turned back to Joey with a huge grin. "Well, would you look at the comeback kid in all his glory. Howdy, friend."

Joey narrowed his eyes at Gibsie, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It's you."

"It's me!" Gibsie declared dramatically, before pulling Joey into another bear hug. "Believe it or not, Lynchy, I was half lonesome for your big druggie head over the summer."

Joey snorted, though his arms stayed wrapped around Gibsie. "Believe it or not, Gussie, I will take your rugby ball-shaped head clean off your shoulders if you don't let go."

And just like that, they were back. The banter, the bickering—it was as if Joey had never left. Johnny sighed next to me, running a hand over his face.

"Oh sweet Jesus, here we go," he muttered under his breath, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I knew it!" Gibsie suddenly shouted, stepping back from Joey and spinning around to face Johnny and me, eyes wide with mock horror. "That's the second time someone's said that! Twice! Two times! That's a pattern!"

Johnny rubbed his temples, trying not to laugh. "That's a coincidence, Gibsie. I've already told ya, a million times, your head is in perfect symmetrical proportion."

"Symmetrical?" Gibsie wailed, clutching his head in exaggerated distress. "What in the name of Jesus are you bringing up maths at a time like this? I'm having a complex, Johnny!"

Johnny chuckled, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "You *are* a complex, Gibs."

Undeterred, Gibsie turned to me, his face scrunched up in exaggerated worry. "My head's not rugby-shaped, is it, princess?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, it's not. It's a lovely shape, joker."

Gibsie's face softened. "Really? You promise?"

"I promise, Gibsie," I said, pulling him into a hug. He rested his chin on the top of my head, and for a moment, everything was still, peaceful. The teasing, the laughter, the chaos—it was all just us, just family. Joey was home. And that was all that mattered.