by Eliza Watson
“How sad. She had no family there to comfort her after he died.”
“Her mother wanted her to return home, but her father wouldn’t allow it. She lived with her sister nearby for a short while before traveling to America.”
“Do you know why she went there? Friends, family?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, luv. Don’t recall ever having heard.”
Mom would certainly be more understanding once she learned why Grandma had kept her tragic life in Ireland a secret. She’d be more sympathetic to her distant emotions and for not having been the most nurturing mother. It had been a survival tactic, after her family had disowned her and the man she’d loved died. Marrying into a wealthy family could have provided her opportunities for a better life. That was why the Irish had immigrated, hope for a better future. She could have remained near her family if they’d accepted her marriage. And in the end, she’d lost them all. No wonder she’d claimed they were dead.
They’d been dead to her.
Chapter Nineteen
Walking back toward Grandma’s house, I scrambled to replay my two-hour visit with Emily in my head, frantically typing notes into my phone. I’d have recorded our conversation but hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable. I planned to document our entire family history for future generations. Better they know the truth than to wonder the worst like I had, afraid my ancestor might have been a murderer. And I’d never have figured out John and Michael were the same person if I hadn’t met Emily.
Upon reaching Grandma’s cottage, I peered at the Daly estate in the distance, nibbling at my lower lip.
I had to call Mom.
With each ring my anxiety increased and my courage diminished. If I hung up, she’d just call me back. She answered. I started with what I hoped would be the bad news, that my flight was canceled.
“You won’t be home for the party or Christmas?” Her voice rose an octave.
“I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”
“If your flight doesn’t cancel again.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel worse, getting all emotional. This will just be the first party you’ve missed, and you’ll barely be here for Christmas. I hope you’ll be okay there. You won’t be spending tonight alone, will you?”
“No,” I lied. “I’ll be with my friend Zoe.”
Luckily, she didn’t ask how Zoe and I had become friends.
“Ah, I have something else to tell you.” I paced through the long grass, my wellies squishing against the soft ground.
“What?” Apprehension filled her voice.
“It’s actually good news.”
“Thank the Lord.”
Peering over at Grandma’s house, I took an encouraging breath. My story began six weeks ago, when Rachel had discovered the ship’s record noting Grandma’s married status, yet she’d been traveling alone under the name Daly. And then the marriage certificate I’d found online.
“I didn’t want to say anything at that point because the marriage took place in England, which made me question that it was Grandma. I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure.”
Silence filled the line.
“Mom?”
“My mother was married before?” she said in disbelief. “And never told us? I wonder if my dad knew.”
I explained why she’d kept it a secret. That Grandma had married her childhood sweetheart next door. The hardships she and John had endured to be together. That they’d been married in England because their families had disowned them, so they were in essence dead to her, except for her sister Theresa. And she’d lost her husband to TB.
“Why didn’t she share all of this with our family?”
“Keeping an emotional distance was a survival tactic.”
“But if we’d known”—Mom choked back a sob—“it would have made things easier.”
The gate creaked behind me.
Startled, I stopped pacing and spun around to find Declan standing there.
My heart rate kicked up a notch, my breathing quickening.
“Ah, Mom, I should go. Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for…everything. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said as I disconnected and, with an apprehensive look, turned toward Declan.
“I checked your flight and saw it was canceled. Since Zoe had supposedly driven you to the airport, I grilled her until she caved. She’s a hopeless romantic.”
Unsure how to respond to his hopeless romantic comment, I stared at him in silence, then blurted out, “John Daly was also Michael, and my grandma’s neighbor, and husband. He died in England before she moved to the US. From TB. I just met his sister, Emily.” I glanced over my shoulder at the Daly estate. “She owns the house now. She was young when they married, but she remembers my grandma…” Was I rambling on like a lunatic because I was nervous or because I wanted to share this exciting discovery with Declan?
An enthusiastic glint sparkled in his blue eyes, his stance relaxed. “Guess it was a good thing your flight canceled. Not just so I could say I’m sorry about last night and this morning.” He took a few tentative steps toward me. “It took me longer than I’d expected at Shauna’s parents. We had a lot to catch up on after three years.”
My heart took off like Paddy’s Sassy Lassy out of the starting gate. Struggling to rein in my shock and excitement, I calmly said, “How’d it go?”
“They still have our engagement snap up. As they should.” He took a deep breath. “Liam, of course, mentioned seeing us at the pub. I told them you’re more than a coworker.” He stared at me with a hopeful expression.
I didn’t know what to say or if I even could speak, with the lump of emotion in my throat.
“It was difficult.”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“But losing you would be more difficult. If I haven’t already lost you.” His confident tone vanished, and his eyes pleaded with me to confirm he still had a chance.
I’d convinced myself that Declan and I separating was for the best. Going to see Shauna’s parents was a huge step for him. However, I’d thought our kiss in Paris had been a major step. I’d hoped things would change after that. They had. But not enough. What if this was the same way? Declan cutting himself off from his emotions was kind of how Grandma had cut herself off for survival purposes. And she’d spent her life distanced from family.
I’d been strong enough to walk away from Declan. I had to keep walking, even though my legs were starting to shake. I steeled my emotions, needing to be strong one last time. “You must feel a lot better, having seen them. I hope things continue to go well. But I, ah, have to go. I want to get to Dublin before it’s dark out.”
Was I planning to go on foot? It wouldn’t get dark for another five hours, and Dublin was an hour’s drive away.
His eyes glassing over, Declan peered up at the snowflakes beginning to fall. If he cried… I didn’t know what I’d do. So I headed toward the road, focusing on the rusted gate and the last time Grandma had walked out it. Had she regretted never returning?
“It was in London, at a posh boutique hotel with a tiny lift. We got stuck between floors, and my claustrophobic client thought stripping down to her bra and knickers would help her not feel so confined. The lift started moving, and I threw my jacket around her. The door opened, and three security guards and engineering stood there grinning…”
As usual, Declan’s story made me smile, yet a tear slipped down my cheek. Should I reach for the gate or Declan?
“I’m falling in love with you,” he said. “You’re only the second woman I’ve ever felt this way about, and it scared me.”
My heart thumped in my ears, yet I continued staring at the gate. Even if Grandma regretted leaving home and never returning, I doubted she’d regretted loving John Daly, despite all odds. I didn’t want to regret walking out that gate and never seeing Declan again. And this time, my gut told me I wouldn’t be sorry
for telling a man I loved him.
I turned toward Declan.
He stared hopefully at me, a tear trailing down his cheek.
I didn’t need Declan to make me happy.
But I wanted him to.
My gaze never wavering from his, I walked slowly toward him. I stopped inches in front of him and kissed the warm moisture from his cheek. I brushed a kiss gently across his lips, and his breath hitched in his throat. My lips lingered near his, and I whispered, “I’m falling in love with you too.”
He returned my soft kiss with a passionate one, slipping his arms around my waist. We deepened the kiss and wrapped our arms so tightly around each other even a snowflake couldn’t come between us.
I vowed to not let anything ever come between us.
Coming May 2018
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading My Christmas Goose Is Almost Cooked. If you enjoyed Caity’s adventures, I would greatly appreciate you taking the time to leave a review on Goodreads or another site. Reviews encourage potential readers to give my stories a try and I would love to hear your thoughts.
Thanks a mil!
About Eliza Watson
When Eliza isn’t traveling for her job as an event planner, or tracing her ancestry roots through Ireland, she is at home in Wisconsin working on her next novel. She enjoys bouncing ideas off her husband, Mark, and her cats Quigley, Frankie, and Sammy.
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