by Mary Carter
He found her in the bathtub. Carlene couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. It explained a lot. Why they moved so soon after her mother’s death. He spared her the details of the scene, but she could imagine, she could hear the pain in his voice.
“I cleaned and cleaned,” he said softly. “But it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.”
It was a total shock, and she had a lot to work through now. So did her father. But it was there, in the open, where they could finally deal with it. And at least in one sense, the gloves were finally off.
The lads all pitched in to fix the wall. Anchor, Eoin, Ciaran, Collin, and Billy had torn down the old wall before she could say shamrock. All they asked was for free drinks and free rein of the jukebox. Carlene didn’t mind the heavy metal so much this time; they worked faster. With the help of the lads, Joe sheepishly removed his charred tanning bed, gave her back the bulldozer clock and ten thousand euros for the damage. He also handed her a large bag, but when she started to open it, he held up his hand.
“You can check that out later,” he said.
“Thank you,” Carlene said.
“You know what this place could use, though?” Joe said. “A deprivation tank. They’re supposed to be good for the soul—”
“Go home, Joe,” Carlene said. Then, before he could run away, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
The Half Tree—Present Day
The cake was four feet tall. The David had never seen anything like it. He carried it like a child, afraid of tipping it on its head. Once it was safely in the back of the van, he began talking.
“This is so good,” he said. “I am glad he came home. I am glad Carlene didn’t lose the pub, and they are still in love. But I am confused. Who is Sally marrying?”
“Herself,” Katie said.
“What is this?” The David said. “A joke?”
“Nope,” Siobhan said. “She wanted to wear the dress, and drink champagne, and dance, and eat cake. So she took Carlene’s advice and she’s throwing herself a wedding reception.”
“Without a groom,” The David mused.
“You should ask her to dance,” Katie said with a wink. “Now let’s get this cake there before she murders us.”
By the time they got back with the cake, there were so many people they were spilling outside onto the little yard. The David spotted Carlene and Ronan immediately. They were both working behind the bar. Every once in a while he noticed they would stare at each other and smile before turning away. This made him feel very good; in fact, the knot in his stomach was loosening. He walked up to Sally and asked her to dance. When it was over, Sally stood by the cake. Carlene rang a little bell behind the bar, and the place quieted down. Sally held a knife in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. She held her glass high.
“I’m becoming the man I want to marry,” she said.
“For fuck’s sake,” Anchor said.
“If you’re a man, then I’m gay,” Collin said.
“Me too,” Billy said. There were several wolf whistles.
“Can we get on with this?” Riley said. “I’m dying of thirst here.”
“I am liking this very much,” The David said. “I would like to marry me too.”
“I want to thank everyone for coming to my party,” Sally said. “Now, I’d like to invite up all the men who want to feed me a piece of fucking cake.”
“I’m so happy that at least one piece of my advice worked out,” Carlene said. She was talking to Sue, who was wearing a sleeveless lavender dress. She looked gorgeous. Her hair had just been colored, even darker red and spikier than before. Despite Carlene begging her to, she wasn’t drinking stiffies; instead she was sipping on a cup of tea. Carlene was happier than she’d ever been. It had been several days since the fire and you couldn’t even tell. In fact, it was much better now—they even bought her a new dartboard that hung straight. She’d been back in business, and it was better than ever. She seemed to have crossed over some invisible line, from blow-in to local. She was one of them now.
“It’s a beautiful fake wedding reception,” Sue agreed. “Are ye gonna be next?” She glanced at Ronan, then grinned at Carlene.
“We’re going to see if we can get the hang of co-running the pub first,” Carlene said. “Besides, he’s a terminal bachelor, or so everyone says.”
“We’re all terminal,” Siobhan said. “Not here for a long time—”
“Just here for a good time,” Carlene finished. She grinned. Then before she knew what was happening, she saw a blur of red whizzing toward her. Just as she registered what it was, it smacked her in the face. Carlene didn’t think roses could hurt so much.
“Carlene caught the fecking bouquet,” Sally said. “Just my fecking luck.”
Carlene snuck out of bed early the next morning, praying she wouldn’t wake Ronan. Lucky for her, everyone had pitched in and cleaned the night before, so she wouldn’t be going downstairs to a mess. In all the excitement since the fire, she had forgotten two things. One, she wanted to see what was in the bag Joe had given her, and two, she’d never checked the security cameras. When she opened the bag, she momentarily forgot about the cameras. There sat an actual coffeemaker, a grinder, and a bag of beans imported from Italy.
The cameras were designed to play any images they recorded on a miniature screen built into the device. Carlene held the camera in her hand and stared at it for a moment before turning it on. This one had been aimed at the front door. She had another one aimed at the back door. If neither of them showed anything, it either meant that the culprit hadn’t struck in a while, or they were using another way in. She stared at the camera. Did she really want to know? After all, she hadn’t been vandalized or pranked since she’d won the pub the second time. Know thy enemy, she thought as she pushed Play on the camera. As the images came into view, she stared, dumbfounded.
“What are you doing?” Ronan stood on the stairs, looking half-asleep. Carlene almost dropped the camera. She had to think quick. She didn’t want him to see it, but if he caught a whiff of her shock, he’d insist. Carlene held up the camera.
“I tried to catch the prankster with this,” Carlene said.
“And did you?” Ronan asked.
“Let’s go to breakfast. I’ll tell you all about it after a good feed.”
“Nancy’s?”
“Where else?”
Carlene politely declined tea, ordered French toast and three cappuccinos. Ronan ordered the full Irish breakfast. Carlene waited until they were full. She didn’t want to begin the next part of their adventure keeping any more secrets.
“You know what Declan told me when we first met?” she asked. Ronan eyed her.
“Nod and smile?” he said.
“No.”
“Sometimes when you’re a publican, you’ve gotta be a bags?”
“No.”
“What’s for you won’t pass you?”
“No.”
“Say nothing till you hear more?”
“Okay, yes, he’s said all those things, but—”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist?”
“Ronan.”
“Sorry. It’s just—he’s got a lot to say.”
“He just said that no matter how friendly they were to your face, or how begrudging behind your back, that you could always count on Irish people to rally around you when things were at their worst—when you really needed them.”
“And they did—didn’t they?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m saying. They were there for me when the wall went up, they were there when the kegs went missing, they were there when the skeleton was found.”
“So it all turned out for the best.”
“That’s the point,” Carlene said. Just then, a short, elderly man walked up to the table.
“You’re the pub winner, aren’t ye?”
“I am,” Carlene said. She introduced herself.
“Hello, Ronan,” t
he man said.
“Hello, Gerald,” Ronan said.
“Listen,” Gerald O’Sullivan said. “If you see Declan around, will ye tell him I’ll be needing my skeleton back?”
“What?” Ronan said. He was almost out of his chair. Carlene pulled him back down.
“I’ll tell him,” Carlene said.
“Thanks. I didn’t think I’d be missing her, but I do,” Gerald said. “She’s my one and only.”
“We’ll get her back to you as soon as possible,” Carlene said.
“I hope she worked out for you,” Gerald said. “What was it, a Halloween party?”
“Something like that.”
“Ah, right so. Glad you enjoyed her.” He winked and walked away.
“Declan?” Ronan said. “And you knew?”
“I saw the tape this morning,” Carlene said. “He came back for the goat.”
“I don’t understand,” Ronan said. “Why would Declan do this to you?”
“Let’s get out of here, and I’ll tell you all about it,” Carlene said.
They walked hand in hand down the street. It was a grand fresh day, and the sun was out. Everyone they saw waved, and they waved back. Christmas lights were already up on several of the shops. Carlene couldn’t wait to decorate the pub. There was nowhere on earth she’d rather be for the holidays. Without even discussing it, they headed for the abbey. They stood on the little bridge overlooking the stream. In the distance, the sun rose behind the tower. Ever so gently, snow began to fall. Carlene jumped up and down.
“It’s snowing!”
“Have ye never seen snow before, Miss Lake Erie?” Ronan said. Carlene punched him on the shoulder.
“It’s much more magical here.” Ronan put his arm around her and pulled her close.
“So tell me why I shouldn’t slug Declan,” Ronan said.
“The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” Carlene said.
Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the little fucker who keeps pretending there’s a wolf at his door, screaming and hollering until the whole town comes running, then when they work out he’s a nasty little liar, they ignore him, but the next time there really is a fucking wolf, only it’s too late for the little bugger?”
“That’s the one,” Carlene said.
“What about it?”
“Nobody likes a winner, Ronan. So Declan decided to do something to get them to like me. The kegs, the wall, the skeleton—all pretty harmless, but it brought people running.”
“Jaysus,” Ronan said.
“Yes,” Carlene said. “That’s some balls.”
“As soon as enough of this white stuff falls, I’ll have a ball for you,” Ronan said. He shook his head. “Declan, Declan, Declan,” he said.
“I’d say he’s going to stop now,” Carlene said. “From now on, I’m on my own.” Ronan took her hand and kissed it.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “I wouldn’t say that at’all.” He leaned forward, and kissed her. It was gentle, and strong, and full of promise. He pulled away, took her hand, and headed for the abbey.
“Where are we going?” she said.
“To the tower,” he said. “There’s a note waiting.”
Carlene stopped. “Ronan?” she said. He kissed her again, quick and hard, and laughed.
“It’s a surprise,” he said.
“A good surprise or a bad surprise?”
“That depends how you look at it.”
“I can’t take any more surprises Ronan, really I can’t. Please, just tell me.”
“I’ll tell you this much,” he said. “There’s a fecking note waiting. You see, I’ve got a tip on a girl.”
EPILOGUE
Declan—One Year Later Say Nothing Until You Hear More
Would ye mind putting these on? I’m not much of a fan of blue rubber gloves meself, but we’ve got a visitor coming. If you think you look funny in them, you should see all the lads wearing them. It’s gas. It might seem a little strange to you, but we’re used to strange around here. Matter of fact, I’ve just come from Joe’s deprivation tank, and I’ll tell ye, I’d take these rubber gloves over it any day. I don’t know what I was supposed to feel in that thing, but deprived about sums it up. It’s been a year since the Yankee Doodle came to town, can you believe that?
It’s Saint Stephen’s Day and that’s a big day in the pubs. Everyone is cracked from spending so much time at home with their relatives on Christmas Day, and we’ll have a big crowd all right. Johnny Spoons is coming. Our visitor, Michael Rivers from America, will arrive before the crowds, and then go back with Mary McBride when things get too crazy for him. Thank you for all the friend requests, but I’ve been off that fecking farming game since my virtual dog ran away.
As far as our little love story goes—I’m not going to say I told you so, but did you see the bling on her finger? I will say that I’m a little sick of the two of them smiling all the fecking time.
Ah, but I’m just an old begrudger. I wouldn’t mind getting my smile on meself, so come on, ladies, if you’re in the area, stop in for a wee pint on me. It goes without saying, you’ve got to be a good-looking bird. And when it comes to our lovebirds, I guess what I’ve always said is true after all. What’s for you, won’t pass you. That’s all the Irish wisdom I have for ye today. I know you’re wanting more, but I have to cut you off. Sometimes when you’re a publican, you’ve gotta be a bags. But come back tomorrow, and I’ll freshen your pint, and I may just have another wisdom nugget for ye, all right. After all, you can only fill a pot of gold with one coin at a time. Ah, sure. Say nothing until you hear more.
Faith, Hope, and Joy. As children, the Garland sisters seemed to fit together as seamlessly as their names. Banding together helped them survive their free-spirited parents, who moved from place to place and whim to whim, until their father took off for good. But as the girls grew up, they became virtual strangers.
This Christmas, they intend to spend the holidays in their usual way: far apart. But their ailing grandmother wants her girls around her once more, and Hope, always the peacemaker, convinces her reluctant sisters to travel to Leavenworth, Washington. Hope is immediately charmed by the unique setting, modeled on a Bavarian village, and by her grandmother’s handsome, mysterious neighbor. Still, there’s scant trace of celebration within the Garland family. Joy’s main motivation for visiting is to secure start-up funds for a coffee shop. Faith, oblivious to her children’s unhappiness, is waiting until the holidays are over to announce that her marriage is over and she has a new love. With a festive schedule of candy-cane martinis, hot tubs, and snowball fights, Hope tries to expose and heal old resentments, but moving forward as a family will take more than a little seasonal goodwill.
Against a stunning winter backdrop, Mary Carter brings rare insight to the deep and complicated nature of sisterhood—a bond that endures far beyond childhood, and can always bring us home again.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Mary Carter's
HOME WITH MY SISTERS
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CHAPTER 1
Bells jangled as Austin Rhodes held open the door to the bustling Winter Biergarten. The scent of bratwursts sizzling on the grill leapt out to greet him, and he could already taste the first tangy sip of his India Pale Ale. Add a heaping scoop of German potato salad and these simple pleasures would go a long way to soothe him when he lost yet another Scrabble game to Yvette Garland. “Silent Night” rose above the chatter of customers, and Christmas lights strung about the room cast everyone in a cheery glow. A giant wreath topped with a big red bow hung above the stone fireplace already crackling and popping with a roaring fire even though it was just a little after noon. Snow was predicted later on and folks were hunkering down as if it had already arrived and making a festive day out of it. Winter was the busiest season of all for this Bavarian town nestled in the Cascade Mountains, thanks in part to the many festivities designed to charm the snow pants off
the tourists. Yes, indeed, there was no better place to celebrate the holiday season than Leavenworth, Washington. Even a Scrooge like him could feel a little bit of magic in a day like today. Austin tucked the Scrabble board under his left armpit and extended a hand to his elderly neighbor who was taking her time coming up the walk. “No ice or snow yet,” she said, ignoring his hand and instead grabbing the doorframe and hoisting herself up into the space.
“Maybe I just wanted to hold your hand,” he said with a wink.
“Stop grinning and winking. People are going to think we’re Harold and Maude.”
Austin raised an eyebrow. “Who are they?”
She waved him off and headed for their usual booth along the window. Besides walking slower than usual, when she lowered herself into the booth, she failed to disguise a wince. Austin immediately looked away. Yvette Garland was not only a fiercely proud woman, she could also strike like a rattlesnake if you were foolish enough to irritate her. Austin was reminded of something his grandfather always said about getting old: It’s a hell of a time of life and I’d avoid it if I were you. At least they had a good meal coming and undeniably the best view in the house.
