by Eliza Watson
The priest walked out a door and stepped onto the altar.
“Jaysus,” Declan said.
Jane shot him a scolding look over her shoulder.
Declan leaned toward me and whispered, “He’s the priest who kicked me out of that church a few years ago. He probably does mass at several.”
Maybe the priest wouldn’t recognize Declan. Getting kicked out of my grandma’s church would not be a good way for Declan to earn my forgiveness.
Chapter Sixteen
Even though the priest had recognized Declan when we’d exited the church, he hadn’t mentioned their previous encounter. He’d shaken his hand, wishing him a Happy Christmas.
When we returned home, we changed out of our dress clothes and met in the living room to eat the takeaway pizzas we’d picked up. Colin hadn’t commented on Quigley’s new bed in the middle of the room or the other outdoor decorations inside. Even though Jane felt her husband could be a stubborn arse, he appeared to accept her quirks without question. I was sitting on the couch next to Declan, trying to ignore our arms occasionally brushing as we reached for pizza or wine on the cocktail table.
After we finished eating, Zoe snatched a present from under the tree. “Caity opens the first one since she’s a guest.” She handed me a small box wrapped in green paper, from Declan.
I unwrapped the book P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern. Everyone stared curiously at it. “Ah, it’s my favorite movie,” I explained, not wanting them to read anything into the title. I glanced over at Declan. “You already got me a present. You shouldn’t have done this.”
He smiled anxiously. “Look inside.”
I opened the cover to find the title page autographed.
I hope you get your purple wellies. Cecelia Ahern.
He’d remembered my comment about wanting purple wellies.
While touring County Wicklow last program, I’d admitted having seen the movie a dozen times and wanting purple wellies to row around the lake with my friends. I hadn’t admitted that I didn’t have any friends.
“I waited in line over an hour at her signing in Dublin last month. One of the only lads there. You’d have thought Oscar Wilde had risen from the dead to do a book signing.”
I tried not to appear too touched that Declan had gone to such great lengths to get my present when he could have ordered an unsigned copy online and had it delivered to his doorstep. I’d be mortified if I’d given him the whiskey basket.
“Here, open our gift.” Zoe bubbled with excitement, handing me a large box in snowman wrapping paper.
I opened it to find a pair of purple wellies. “Wow,” I muttered, fighting back tears. “Thanks a mil.”
“Thanks a mil?” Zoe laughed. “You’re starting to sound Irish. Try them on.”
I slipped on the boots and modeled them. They fit perfectly.
“They’re lovely,” Jane said. “Declan told us he was getting you the book and suggested the wellies.”
“Next time you’re here, we’re renting a boat on Blessington Lake,” Zoe said. “Hopefully, we don’t lose our oars like in the movie. I’ve never rowed a boat before.”
I smiled. “Neither have I.”
“We’ll make quite the pair.”
Having a friend to go boating with was one of the best Christmas gifts of all.
“Everyone already thinks you’ve lost your oars,” Declan told Zoe.
“Be nice or no pressies.” Zoe teased Declan with my gift before handing it to him.
I nibbled nervously at my lower lip. What if he didn’t like it? Or didn’t get it?
He unwrapped the ornament. A dancing leprechaun smiled up at him. Declan peered over at me, a reminiscent glint in his eyes. “Ah, it’s grand. Thanks.”
I stared into his dreamy blue eyes for several moments before finally dragging my gaze away to share the story of my leprechaun socks with everyone. How I’d tripped in front of the VIP and Declan had come to my rescue for the first time.
He hung the ornament next to the one he’d painted with Santa in the orange suit. My smile faded. Next Christmas, would he choose not to hang it on the tree, reminded of me and our brief relationship? Like the lonely snowman ornament hid away in the box upstairs?
Zoe snatched up a round box wrapped in red paper with a gold bow. “Nice wrap job.”
“Save Declan’s present for when Aidan gets home,” Jane said.
“I can’t wait.” Zoe tore off the paper and tossed the box top aside. She removed a fancy, small red hat with a cluster of red maple leaves on one side. She stared at it in awe. “It’s the one Kate wore to the queen’s River Pageant and on her visit to Canada.”
“Not the exact same one, or that’d have set me back several quid, but I did buy it in London.”
Zoe’s eyes watered. “This is the most lovely gift ever. I can’t believe you bought me something so…nice.”
“What were you expecting? A hat with a bobblehead Kate on top?”
“Yeah.” She gave Declan a huge hug. “Does this mean I have to start buying you proper gifts?”
“It means you two have grown up,” Colin said.
“I thought it would be appropriate for the St. Stephen’s Day races in Dublin,” Declan said.
“I’m wearing it right now and never taking it off.” Zoe placed the hat on her head, balancing it in place without the help of pins.
Jane opened my gift—a nutcracker missing its handle with the mouth. A clearance item from the Christmas market.
She eyed the wooden figure. “Ah, it’s brilliant, isn’t it? A nutcracker unable to crack nuts.” She smiled appreciatively. “Been here just two days and you know me so well.”
“Not going to cry over that yoke, are ya?” Colin asked.
“I’m getting misty because Caity’s leaving.” She peered over at me. “It’s been lovely having ya here.”
I swallowed the lump of emotion in my throat. “Thanks for opening my presents early. It was wonderful being included.”
“Yeah, it’s been nice,” Declan said, smiling.
It’d been nice? He’d been gone half the time.
Zoe opened the Christmas pudding I’d snuck off to buy after Quigley ate ours, and Colin loved his bottle of mulled wine.
After we finished opening gifts, Zoe stood slowly, balancing the hat on her head. “I’m going to wear my hat to bed. Good night, my adoring public.” She strolled gracefully from the room with a refined wave.
Jane placed a hand to her mouth, stifling an exaggerated yawn. “Yes, it’s time to turn in. We want to be up early to wish Caity a safe trip.” She and Colin headed upstairs.
Everyone undoubtedly assumed Declan and I needed to talk. I focused on my book cover and not on the nervous feeling fluttering around my stomach and chest. The bedroom doors shut. I slowly raised my gaze to Declan’s. With a steamy look in his blue eyes, he grasped hold of my hand, drawing me closer to him on the couch. I didn’t want our first kiss since Dublin to be a make-up kiss when we hadn’t yet had an argument and resolved our problems. However, when he lowered his head and gently brushed his warm lips against mine, I went weak, relaxing back against the couch. It felt like two years rather than two days since we’d kissed. He leaned in for another kiss.
I peered over his shoulder at the empty nail on the wall. “I can’t do this.” I slipped around him and popped up from the couch. “I can’t pretend like nothing happened. Like I didn’t say Shauna’s name. Like it didn’t upset you so much you ran off for an entire day.”
Declan stood. “Sorry. I hadn’t planned to be gone so long. And it’s okay. I know you didn’t say her name on purpose.”
My gaze narrowed in disbelief. “I’m not sorry that I said Shauna. Someone needed to say her name.”
He inhaled a deep breath, then slowly eased it out. “Please don’t do this now, Caity.” Using my name reinforced his serious tone.
“Then when? Tomorrow morning when you’re taking me to the airport? After Christmas, when I won’t even
be here?” Tone down the anger and sarcasm. Act rational. “When, Declan?”
He dropped his head back, letting out a frustrated groan. “Jaysus. I don’t know.” He tossed his arms up in the air. “Sometime. Just not now.”
Screw rational. I wanted to grab his sweater and shake him senseless, but he was already senseless.
“You’re not the only one still mourning Shauna.” I felt like I was even mourning Shauna. I hadn’t known her personally but had come to know her better over the past few days, and I felt the family’s pain, not merely Declan’s. “It took your mom three years to hang a picture back on that nail and put your painting on the wall.” I gestured to the nail by the fireplace. “I can’t believe you took them down.”
His gaze narrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Your painting that was hanging there.”
He looked truly baffled.
My stomach dropped.
He hadn’t taken down the picture or the painting.
His mom had.
I’d thought that blurting out Shauna’s name had helped Jane take the necessary steps toward healing. She’d seemed so determined to move forward. What happened to that dark cloud hovering over the house for three years finally passing?
Declan eyed me with curiosity.
“Your engagement picture on the stairway wall has been stashed away for three years,” I said, refusing to let it go, even though it was Jane’s place to bring it up, not mine.
He quirked a brow. “How do you know about that?”
“Certainly not from you. Everything I’ve learned about Shauna is from your family, and that’s not right.”
Maybe destiny hadn’t brought me here to help Declan or his family let go of the past. But to help myself. Martha would tell me that you couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped. That it was difficult when you wanted something for someone more than they wanted it for themselves.
Declan’s gaze narrowed. “What exactly have they been telling you?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you don’t want to talk about Shauna, you at least need to be able to say her name. To talk to her brother, Liam. Or to talk to me about Liam. To not drive off in a fit and go MIA for a day.”
“They had no right to get involved in our relationship.”
“I involved them. I told Zoe about our kiss and your mom that you admitted avoiding your emotions.”
“Feckin’ A, Caity.” He raked a frustrated hand through his hair.
“They needed hope. I needed hope. That you’ll learn to not live in the past so you’ll have a future.” Deciding I was on a roll, I added, “And I accidentally told Rachel about Shauna.”
He didn’t look surprised. Either he was overwhelmed by my confessions or he’d heard me in the restaurant’s bathroom.
“I refuse to keep things bottled up inside like I used to. I want a relationship, but you’re still in one, and I’m afraid you always will be.”
I snapped my mouth shut, unable to believe I’d just said that. Declan looked just as shocked.
He shook his head. “As if it’s so easy. You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”
“Yeah, I do,” I muttered.
I just lost you.
I turned and escaped up the stairs in my purple wellies.
Chapter Seventeen
A loud shrill jarred me awake. My phone lit up on the nightstand like a beacon in the dark room. I shook the groggy haze from my head and snatched it up. It wasn’t Mom forgetting the time difference and calling at 3:00 a.m.—it was the airline, advising me that my flight had been canceled.
Again?
I shot up in bed. I flipped on the lamp and almost screamed, startled by the wire sheep staring me in the face. My stomach dropped as I read the text informing me that my flight was rebooked for Christmas day!
I was going to have to spend Christmas with two hundred strangers flying over the Atlantic, dining on peanuts and swill wine while watching sitcom reruns. Even more upsetting, I’d be spending another day at Declan’s.
No way was I staying here another day.
Declan didn’t have to know my flight was canceled.
How was I going to keep that a secret when I didn’t have a car? And, I had nowhere to go…
Yes, I did.
I needed to return to Grandma’s home for a souvenir stone. To go to the post office and get the address for the woman who lived in the Daly home. Even if she wasn’t related to Grandma’s husband John Daly, she or a family member might know about Grandma’s past. Nicholas Turney was right. I had to follow every lead. There was a reason my flight had been canceled the first time, so I could meet the local historian. There was a reason it had been canceled this time. My journey here wasn’t done. My visit to Killybog wasn’t about Declan. It was about Grandma and my family history and my family’s future.
My future.
Feeling inspired, I convinced myself that I could drive in Ireland. Mullingar likely had a car rental agency. Declan had been a crappy navigator. I didn’t need him sitting by my side or to have my back.
It was time I had my own back.
* * *
Early the next morning, I hauled my suitcase down the stairs, my carry-on bag weighing heavily on my shoulder, even though it didn’t contain Declan’s painting. I’d left it sitting on the dresser, not wanting a reminder of him hanging in my bedroom. I hadn’t fallen back to sleep after my 3:00 a.m. wake-up call. I’d gone online and reserved a car from a rental company in Mullingar. Now I just had to figure out how to get there without telling Declan and his family that my flight had been canceled. An icky feeling tossed my stomach. Over lying, facing Declan after our argument, and saying good-bye to him and his family. I was going to miss my talks with Zoe and Jane. But it would be too difficult to stay in touch with them when I had to cut ties with Declan.
I hadn’t merely lost Declan but also his family.
Zoe waited at the bottom of the stairs in her blue flannel jammies and her new fancy red hat. Not a red maple leaf out of place, she apparently hadn’t slept in it.
She frowned. “He’s not here. I’ll take you to the airport.”
I set my suitcase on the floor. “Where is he?”
She shrugged. “Supposedly had something important to do but promised he’d be back to take you.” She glanced at the clock on the table. We’d planned to leave now.
“I’m such a bloody muppet sometimes. Should have left everything on the walls.”
I stared at Zoe in disbelief. “You took down the picture and painting?”
“I thought if he got upset about them, he might leave again and ruin Mum’s Christmas. But if I’d left them, maybe he’d have said something and we’d have talked about what happened.”
I shook my head. “He wouldn’t have. He’d just have taken them down.”
Good to know Jane hadn’t hidden them away. Maybe I had helped her. And Zoe had good intentions. Declan running off again reinforced that I’d made the right decision.
“I don’t need him to take me to the airport anyway. I booked a train. But if you could take me to the station, that’d be great.” I hated lying to Zoe, but if she discovered my flight had canceled, she’d insist I stay here tonight, as would Jane. They wouldn’t want me spending Christmas Eve alone. I wasn’t keen on spending it alone either, but I had to.
“It’s insane for you to drive me all the way to the airport when it’ll be a madhouse today. Besides, I’ve never taken a train.”
“A train doesn’t go straight to the airport, ya know.”
“Yeah, I know,” I lied.
“I’ll get dressed, and we can talk about it.” Zoe trudged up the stairs.
I followed the scent of fresh-baked scones into the kitchen. Jane was sliding a tray from the oven. She forced a bright smile. “Happy Christmas Eve day.”
I smiled. “You too.”
“I’m packing a few sweets for your flight.” A baggie
on the counter contained Minion cookies. “He left before I was up this morning, or I wouldn’t have allowed him to leave.”
I shrugged. “That’s okay. We said our good-byes last night. I’ll feel horrible if he doesn’t come back and I’ll have ruined your family Christmas, twice.”
“Nonsense. You didn’t ruin our Christmas. Declan might still be refusing to talk about Shauna, but the rest of us aren’t, and that’s a good thing. Thank you for that. And I’m putting both the picture and the painting back up.”
I was proud I’d helped Declan’s family. I usually sucked in emotionally intense situations, never knowing how to react. That’s the reason I’d decided not to become a counselor despite my sociology degree and desire to help women like Martha had helped me. I’d wanted to be at least one woman’s Martha. Maybe I’d been two, Zoe’s and Jane’s. My eyes glassed over with tears.
“Ah, come here, luv.” Jane embraced me in a hug, then drew back. “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out for you two. I truly am. But you’re always welcome here.”
“Thanks.” I nodded faintly, knowing I wouldn’t see Jane again. Saying a final good-bye was too difficult, so I said, “I’m bringing my sister, Rachel, over in the spring to visit our rellies and Grandma’s home.”
I’m bringing Rachel? I hadn’t said we were visiting Ireland or that Rachel was bringing me, but that I was bringing her. I’d never have thought myself capable of bringing Rachel anywhere.
But I was now.
* * *
Zoe zipped around a sharp corner, taking it too wide, causing an oncoming car to veer partway onto the grass. We encountered a car creeping along, and she flew past it, branches scraping against my window. I grasped the door handle.
Zoe glanced over at me. “Sorry about that. No worries. I’ve only had two accidents. Three if you count the time my tire blew. But only one was my fault.”
