My Life in Shambles(64)

“Ach, yer mam. I hope she’s well and doesn’t mind ye gallivanting around Ireland.”

“So far she doesn’t,” I tell her just as Gail sticks her head out from the kitchen.

“Howya, Valerie,” she says. “Can I borrow ye for a moment?”

Oh damn. I was hoping I’d get stuck with furniture polishing duty.

I nod, pasting a smile on my face and hurry over to her.

“What can I do for you?” I ask.

She points with her knife at a bunch of vegetables on the cutting board. “Here,” she says, handing me the knife. “If ye could cut those up into chunks for the Shepherd’s pie.”

“Sure,” I say, cutting them slowly because I’ve never been that skillful with a knife. I’m fast when I’m typing but when I’m wielding something sharp and have to be extra precise, then I turn into a clumsy mess.

Meanwhile Gail is coating a fish with a layer of flour and frowning at the way I’m working. “Not used to cooking, are ye?”

I know what she’s getting at, I’m just waiting for her to say it.

“I lived in New York. Manhattan. For years. Most apartments don’t even have proper kitchens. You eat out all the time there.”

“I’ve been to New York. I know what it’s like,” she says, sprinkling spices on the fish. “But you’re not planning to move back there, are ye? Padraig’s career is here. And so, ye better learn how to cook.”

That’s what I thought she was getting at.

I give her a sweet smile, refusing to let her ruffle me. “Oh, I am sure I’ll pick it up eventually. Until then, well, there’s always you.”

Her face turns grim and she puts her back to me.

I roll my eyes.

After that, I start chopping faster so I can get the hell out of there, so maybe that was her strategy all along. Then Nan pulls me aside and gives me the task of polishing the silverware while she does the washing.

“So, uh, how many do I do,” I say, looking at the drawers of fancy looking silverware in the china hutches.

“The normal amount,” she says, carrying the basket of laundry to the back door.

“But I thought this was an engagement party.”

She pauses. “It is, don’t tell me yer daft.”

“So how many guests are coming?”

She just stares at me for a moment and I know she’s calling me an eejit in her head. “One for me. One for Colin. One for Padraig. One for you. One for Gail. One for Major. Any more questions?”

I shake my head and she continues on her way. I watch out the back door as she heads over to the laundry line. It’s been lashing down rain the last few days but today it’s sunny and cold again and I noticed the moment it’s sunny, she heads right outside. Maybe the fresh air is how she’s able to live so long.

Well, I guess when she said she was throwing us an engagement party, it didn’t mean that other people were invited. It seems like it’s going to be a normal dinner for us, albeit with fish and sparkling silverware.

Oh, and the fact that his father is supposed to present the ring to Padraig.

My stomach starts to hurt, sharp stabbing pains. While I’ve been distracted from the whole fake relationship thing with Padraig’s diagnosis, and it’s become easy and normal to be around the B&B with the family, the whole charade of it all has slipped my mind.

I hate the fact that he’s going to give me her ring.

I’ve hated it from the start and I know I don’t really get a say because it’s not my mother’s ring, but still. It makes me uncomfortable.

But we can’t back out of it now. All I can do is just hope there isn’t a fuss.

When I’m done polishing, I decide I need some fresh air. I put on my boots and coat and head outside, strolling down the frosty driveway to the road. The sun is blinding but after days of rain, it’s exactly what I needed. I wish Padraig were out here with me because I noticed he gets more depressed the longer it rains, but he needs his sleep, too.

I end up walking for about an hour, past round stone huts surrounded by bramble, wide green fields dotted with sheep, rabbits running out from the thickets, blackbirds soaring up high. There are farms and colorful houses and everyone I see waves at me like they know me.

I could live here.

The thought surprises me, considering I’ve always been a city girl. But there’s a peace about this place. The way that life slows down just a little and people take the time to look you in the eye when they’re talking to you. Even Dublin doesn’t operate like an aggressive, go-go-go city. It’s soft and it’s kind and good for your heart.

So, great. Both this damn country and Padraig have totally and completely captured my heart and I’m helpless against it.

I head back to the house when my back starts to hurt and my hips feel stiff. I think about my physiotherapy sessions and how Padraig will likely start physiotherapy soon. Sounds awful to think, but a lot of his next steps rely on when his father will pass away.

Speak of the devil…

When I turn up to the B&B, I spot Colin sitting on the low stone wall that runs along the driveway. He’s just in a sweater and pajama pants, no coat, and as I get closer, I see he’s only got slippers on his feet.

I start hurrying over to him. “Mr. McCarthy,” I say anxiously. “Are you okay?”