"I don't want to impose but I really need a phone. My mobile is dead. I didn't realize this was your house. I've hit a cow, you see."
She laughed. "You can't be serious."
"I'm afraid I am."
"Then you'd better come in. The phone is in the hall. You can call your insurance company from there. When you've sorted things out, you're very welcome to join us." She squeezed her mother's shoulder. "Isn't he, Mom?"
Dolly sniffed. "Whatever you say, Johannah. T'is your house after all."
* * *
Johannah
Johannah was surprised at the shock of pleasure she felt at Jack Rafferty's unexpected appearance. Leading him into the sitting room after his phone call, she looked around for the most likely person to introduce him to, someone intelligent and worldly, someone interesting who would talk about more than the weather forecast or a pig let loose in the cow pasture. As far away from her in-laws as possible, Kate stood near the door talking with Patrick. Of course, Kate and Patrick. Perfect.
"Let me introduce you to my daughter." She hooked her arm through Jack's and made her way through the crowd to the other side of the room. "Katie, Patrick, this is Jack Rafferty, a friend I met in Dublin when I was there recently. He's with the union," she explained hurriedly, anxious that Kate wouldn't assume what wasn't there.
Patrick held out his hand. "How are you, Jack? Staying long in Tralee?"
"Not too long, a few weeks at the most. I'm here to mediate between civil servants and management. Hopefully we can avoid a strike."
Kate smiled. "You don't sound like you're from Dublin, Mr. Rafferty."
Jack Rafferty smiled. "I'm originally from Belfast, but now my base is in London, such as it is. I'm not there all that much."
"Are you an instigator?"
"Kate!" Johannah's eyebrows rose.
This time he laughed, the small lines around his eyes deepening, making him, Johannah thought, even more attractive. "I try to sort out a situation, not enflame it."
"Is there a future in that?" asked Kate.
"Definitely." He regarded her speculatively. "I'd say you're a bit of an instigator yourself, Kate."
She looked surprised. "How do you mean?"
"You say what's on your mind."
Patrick chuckled. "That's our Kate."
"It certainly is," agreed Johannah.
Rafferty turned his level blue gaze on Patrick. "Have you known the family long?"
"Not really, although it seems so. Can I bring you a drink, Jack?"
"I'll have a mineral, an orange bitter, if you have it."
"So, Kate," Jack continued after Patrick left the group, "your mother tells me you were educated in the States."
"Yes, although it hasn't done me much good here. I'm thinking of relocating to Dublin or, possibly, London."
"But not the U.S."
"No. I don't think I'd go back to America, but one never knows. I suppose they need dieticians everywhere."
"They do, even here in Tralee."
"Those positions are long taken," Kate explained. "A hospital might have one or two. Believe me, I've tried."
He nodded. "I suppose people must do whatever is necessary to find work."
Patrick returned with an orange squash. Jack thanked him and redirected his attention. "What brought you to Tralee, Patrick?"
"Retirement and the weather."
Jack's eyebrows rose. "The weather? In Ireland?"
"Aye. The air is warmer here."
"Where is your home?"
"In the Northwest."
"A Connemara man. I know it well."
"How's that?"
"My mother's family is from Inishmore. I have family on the island. Do you know the Horans of Kilronen?"
"I've never been to the islands."
Once again Jack Rafferty raised his silver eyebrows. "But you've kept up with your Irish."
"Of course." Patrick appeared distracted. Then he smiled. "I must say hello to Liam. A pleasure meeting you, Jack. I hope to see you again."
Jack Rafferty lifted his glass. "I'll make a point of it."
Johannah stared after Patrick's retreating figure. She considered him a close friend, she'd confided personal details of her family life, had coffee with him at least twice a week and yet she knew very little about him. Never once in all the months she'd known him had she considered asking any of the questions Jack had asked him in less than ten minutes. Their relationship was based completely on her, her emotions, her family, her difficulties. Suddenly, Johannah was ashamed.
Chapter 35
Johannah
Maura found her in the kitchen positioning four candles in the center of Evan's birthday cake. "Who is that gorgeous man with your daughter?"
"I thought you knew. It's Jack Rafferty."
"My God, Hannie, that's the man who asked you to have dinner with him in Dublin?"
"Himself, in the flesh."
Maura's mouth dropped. "What's the matter with you? He's terribly good looking."
Johannah stepped back to survey her handiwork. "Yes, he is. What do you think of the candles, Maura? Are they too close together?"
"Are you daft? Piss on the candles, Hannie. Who cares about candles? That man is a keeper. If it wasn't for Milo I'd fight you for him. I might even do that anyway."
Johannah poured two cups of tea, added milk and handed one to Maura. "Calm down, Maura. Jack Rafferty is a very likeable man. He's a good-looking man and an intelligent man. But we have no idea if he's a keeper. Milo is a keeper. Mickey was a keeper. Patrick is a keeper."
Maura set down her cup of tea, found a goblet and poured herself a healthy glass of wine. "You're insane, Hannie Enright. You can't compare Patrick to that man. Next you'll be telling me you and Patrick will be posting the banns."
"No, I won't. Patrick is a dear man and a wonderful friend, much more so to me than I am to him. But that's all. There will be no posting of the banns. As for Jack Rafferty, I barely know him. I admit," she continued earnestly, "it's flattering for a man like that to show up at my door and have everyone sit up and take notice that it's Hannie Enright who's pulled in a big one, but if I let myself go beyond that, and I do because I'm a reasonable woman, I realize he's just passing time. He knows nothing about me. He lied about not knowing this was my house. No one turns up this street by accident, halfway up the hill into Ballyard and manages to stumble on the right house. I don't like that. Why not just say he was looking for me?"
"Give him a chance, Hannie. He's here. He's interested. Do you want to spend your life alone?"
"No. But I don't want to be dazzled by someone I can't talk to after the introductions are over. It's Kate we should be pushing on him. She's the one who wants to live in London, see the world, acquire wealth."
"Speak for yourself. I wouldn't mind acquiring a little wealth myself, just enough so that the bank account is never empty. Still, the Kate idea isn't bad. May-December romances work out so long as both parties know what they want. Unfortunately, I don't think it's Kate he came across the country to visit."
"Poor Dermot. We're disregarding him like he was yesterday's cabbage."
"Don't be concerned about Dermot Kelliher. He'll be fine. There's more than one smart young woman in Tralee who's willing to wait for Maired to meet her maker, God forgive me."
"What an awful thing to say."
"I blessed myself. Didn't you see me? Don't pretend to be shocked, Hannie. You know yourself if it wasn't for Maired, those two young people might have had a chance." She opened the door to peek out at the guests. "Isn't it the oddest thing that children's birthday parties turn into entertainment for the nosies? Kate's still talking to Mr. Rafferty. She's laughing. He's actually made her laugh. Could be you're on to something, Hannie. The only other time I've seen Katie enjoy herself is with Ritchie O'Shea."
"Let's hope he doesn't show up," Johannah muttered. She picked up the cake. "Bring the matches and the ice cream. Tell Kate to find Evan and the rest of the child
ren. We'll get this over as soon as possible."
"You do throw the best parties, Hannie."
"You're not helping me, Maura Keane. I need everyone for the cake cutting. Then we can open gifts and send everyone away."
"You're kidding yourself. Short of throwing them out on the street, you'll get rid of no one until nightfall, and not even then if you're serving spirits."
"Those with children will go home."
"They aren't the ones worrying you."
"Open the door. I'm coming through." Johannah carried the cake into the sitting room. "Everyone gather in the garden," she called out. "We're cutting the cake."
Patrick materialized and held open the door. "You look anxious."
"I am, a bit." She spoke through her teeth. "Kate and Maired Kelliher aren't speaking. I suppose I can't blame Maired. After all, Kate's the one who left."
He took the cake from her arms and carried it to the picnic table. "It isn't your responsibility, Hannie. This is Kate's doing. She's the one who'll handle the fall out. Try not to think about it and enjoy yourself for Evan's sake. He's a grand wee lad and he deserves a happy grandmother."
For a long moment, Johannah caught up in her personal embarrassment, grappled to understand the content of his words. When she did, a sense of calm rose in her chest. She looked at Patrick, relief and affection in her eyes. "You're very good. Thank you, Patrick. I bless the day I met you."
From across the yard, Evan caught sight of his cake and ran to her. "Nan, Nan, is it time for my candles?"
She stooped to kiss his nose. "It is, my love."
"Then can we have the egg race?"
"We'll use potatoes instead."
"Can Owen help me blow them out?"
Over the child's head, her eyes met Patrick's. "Today you may have anything you want. It's your birthday."
Later, when all but the last few remaining guests had left, Jack Rafferty found her in the kitchen, scraping potato salad into the garbage. "I always wondered why Insinkerators never took hold in Ireland."
She looked up at him. "Where have they taken hold other than America?"
He shrugged. "Canada, maybe."
"Canada doesn't count. Canadians are Americans, too."
"I suppose they are, although they don't like to admit it."
Johannah smiled. "Have you been everywhere, Jack?"
"No, not even close. My dream is to settle down in one place and never use a map again."
"Really? That wasn't my impression the last time we talked." She filled the sink with water. "You did a fine job of managing the hoards."
"Everyone was friendly."
She corrected him. "Everyone was curious."
"Who was the man with the wool cap who went on about losing his pension?"
Johannah sighed. "He's Robbie Kelliher, my son-in-law's uncle. We have to invite him, you see. He's Evan's family."
"I don't understand. Why wouldn't you invite him?"
Johannah handed him a dishtowel. "Make yourself useful." She watched approvingly as he picked up a plate and began wiping the surface. "He robbed the post office," she explained. "The government doesn't look kindly on civil servants who help themselves to the till. He was turned off and his pension revoked. It's an embarrassment for him, but more so for his family, I think, because he brings it up every time he drinks."
Rafferty whistled. "I don't think I'll ever forget this day."
"I'm sure you won't."
He regarded her curiously. "What about you? Does he embarrass you?"
She rinsed the last dish, picked up a towel and began to dry the pots and pans. "Not a bit. He's nothing to do with me."
He changed the subject. "Your mother is a character."
"My mother has Alzheimer's. She's not herself."
He frowned. "I never would have known. I'm sorry."
Johannah smiled. "No, I'm sorry. The subject is a sore one. You see, my mother is an intelligent woman, which make it worse. Unless you know her, you wouldn't think she's ill at all. It makes things difficult. People allow for illness. They don't allow for eccentricity, not even here in the backwoods of Ireland."
"Is that what you think this is, the backwoods?"
"It certainly isn't Dublin."
"We've only five cities in the entire country. That puts all of Ireland in the backwoods category."
"Point taken." She hung the damp towel over the back of a chair. "Tell me why you're here, Jack."
"You have an employment crisis here in Tralee, Johannah. A civil servants' strike is a serious matter. I'm here to negotiate terms between your union and management."
She looked at him, at the quality clothing, the expensive haircut, the hands that had lost all evidence of manual labor. "That's your official version, but that isn't what I meant. Why are you here, at my house?"
"Ah." The gray eyes lit with laughter. "You do get to the point, don't you?"
"I don't have time to waste. Are you interested in me, I mean beyond friendship?"
"Yes."
Blood rose in her cheeks. "I don't think I'm the one for you."
"Why not?"
"That should be obvious. Look around you. There's no place for the likes of you here, and I'm not going anywhere else. I don't want to go anywhere else."
"You have a lovely home, charming, intelligent children and a professional occupation. I don't know what you mean by obvious."
She shook her head.
He folded the towel and set it on the counter. "Look. I'm going to be here for a few weeks. Can we take it slowly and see how things go? That's all I'm asking."
"Tralee is a small town."
"Are you afraid of the gossips?"
"Certainly not," she replied firmly.
"Well?"
"I suppose it can't hurt. A few weeks should make everything quite clear."
"Done." He held out his hand.
She took it. "This isn't a contract, you know."
He laughed. "For a minute there, it felt like one. I'll be leaving before you change your mind."
Maura poked her head in the door. "Do you need help, Hannie?"
"As a matter of fact I do. Would you mind seeing Jack to the door? He's had a long day."
Maura's eyes brightened. "Not at all. Come along, Jack. Between here and the door, I'll tell you everything you need to know about Tralee."
"Leave me out of it, Maura," Johannah warned.
She winked. "My lips are sealed."
Chapter 36
Kate
Dermot looked around curiously. "I've never been here before. It's been open about three years, has it?" He pronounced the three without the h, tree, tree years.
It grated on her nerves. All the dese, dem and dis, instead of these, them and this, all the Katerines and Katleens. Where had they learned to speak English? Didn't they watch American television, listen to American music? "At least three years," she replied, curving her tongue, placing it between her teeth, emphasizing the th sound. "Parking is easy here at Manor, the coffee is good and it isn't a pub."
"It's not much for food, is it?"
"No. People come for snacks and coffee drinks."
"Gloria Jeans. The name is odd. Where does it come from?"
Kate shifted impatiently. "I believe it's a chain."
"An American chain?"
"Yes."
"I see." Dermot looked down at this coffee. "Why are we here, Kate?"
She drew a deep breath and dove in. "I'm interviewing for a position as a dietician in a Dublin clinic. If I get it, I'll be using my degree. I wanted to tell you because it means I'll be moving away. If I don't get this job, I'll look for another, somewhere else, somewhere away from Tralee. I wanted to know your feelings about sharing custody."
He stared at her, his eyes glazed with shock. "You're really serious," he said at last.
"I am."
"What does your mother say about your plans?"
"I haven't told her. I wanted you to be the first to know."
"Have you thought of Evan?"
"How do you mean?"
"He'll be away from his family, his friends, everything familiar."
"He's five years old, Dermot. He'll adjust. It will mean opportunity for him as well. Dublin is a city with history and culture, good schools, interesting people."
"Is Ritchie O'Shea going with you?"
Kate stared at him. "Not you, too, Dermot. I can't believe you asked that question."
"Is he? Spell it out, Kate. Yes or no."
"No. There is nothing between Ritchie and me beyond an old friendship. If I don't get this job, I'll look elsewhere, in Cork, Limerick, even London."
"America?"
"No. As much as I'd like to, I won't go there. It's too far away. I want you to see Evan regularly."
"Have you given up on opening your own business, the special diets idea?"
"Sorry?" She looked genuinely baffled.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I suppose Liam got it wrong. All right, then. You've told me. Aren't you putting the cart before the horse? You might not get this one."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Whether I do or not, I wanted to prepare you. Even if this position doesn't come through, I'll get something, Dermot. I want to use my knowledge. I want my mind to be challenged. I don't want to work behind the counter of a hardware store or behind a desk at the council office. I want Evan to see me reach my potential. I want to teach him to follow his dreams, not to settle into a job because it makes sense for his family."
Bitterness colored his words. "You're talking about me."
"It's a way of life around here. You're not alone. It's the way we live. Leave school, get a job, any job to survive until retirement, collect your pension, sit back and be grateful you don't have to work anymore."
His face was flushed. He stood. "I don't want to argue with you, Katie. Consider your message delivered. When you secure a position somewhere, we'll talk about a schedule for Evan. I have to go back to work, mundane as it is."
"Dermot—"
He held up his hand. "You've said enough."
She watched him walk out of the shop and cross the street. Stirring her coffee, she waited, resigned, for the familiar guilt to wash over her. One minute ticked by and then another. She felt sorrow and regret and a fresh, clean feeling she remembered from her college days, a feeling of progress. Then she frowned. What had Dermot meant about starting her own business? She must ask Liam.
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