He was a gentle kisser, not too rough or demanding. Just like his personality, he was comfortable, making me want him more. I pulled away and gazed into his eyes. I wanted to say thank you, but felt strange thanking him for permission to let go of my structured life and encouraging me to let life unfold naturally.
“Will you trust me to show you what Ireland is all about?” he asked.
I kissed him again and nuzzled against him. “If it means wearing a trash bag out in the streets of Dublin, then so be it. It’ll be a Halloween I’ll never forget.” I leaned back on my arm and jabbed him in the chest. “You better not leave me like you did last time.”
He kissed me again. “Promise.”
Willie Daly’s words echoed in my head. It’s someone you least expect.
Chapter 20
That night at dinner, I sat beside Jaime and across from Connor and Deirdre. A large bowl of mashed potatoes sat in the center of the table. Green specks poked out of the ivory puree, and in the center sat a puddle of butter.
“Cead mile failte,” she said, sticking a spoon in the bowl. “That means welcome. Rory, I wanted to share our Halloween traditions with you. This, here, is colcannon.”
I licked my lips. “Looks delicious. What is it, exactly?”
Jaime’s lopsided smile stirred my belly. “I told you already. Mashed potatoes.”
“Why is it green?” I asked.
“Kale,” Connor said.
Deirdre held out her hands and Connor took one in his. “Potatoes, onion, kale, butter, and milk. That’s all. Before we eat, I’d like to say grace. Seamus?” Her right eye looked at Jaime, and her left eye remained closed. I immediately closed my eyes and grabbed Jaime and Connor’s hands, creating a ring around the table.
“Slainte. To friends, family, and food. Amen.” He squeezed my hand before releasing it, and I looked away to hide my reddening face.
“So.” Deirdre clapped her hands. “Colcannon is a traditional Halloween meal. Usually, there’s a ring inside, and the person who gets it will get married in a year, but I left it out tonight. I have a surprise for later. Would you like some?” She held her hand toward me, palm up, requesting my plate. I passed it to her, motioning her to stop after she dropped two heaping spoonfuls in the middle.
“Halloween originated in Ireland. Did’ja know that?”
I shook my head, blowing on the steaming hot potatoes to avoid another burn on my tongue, like last time.
“It originated two thousand years ago at a pagan festival. We’ve always been about fun.”
“I never knew that. This is delicious, by the way.” I wasn’t crazy about kale or the bitter aftertaste, but the salty butter enhanced the earthy greens.
“Also, what you call jack-o’-lanterns originated here, too. Except instead of pumpkins, we used turnips.”
I imagined a white turnip with a carved face and pictured a mummy head. “Carving pumpkins is one of my favorite things to do for Halloween,” I said.
Deirdre snapped her fingers. “Drats. I almost bought some turnips today, but didn’t think we’d have time to carve.” She placed another dish on the table. “This here is barmbrack, another Halloween tradition, originally used as a fortune-telling device at the Celtic festival, Samhain.”
Connor cleared his throat. “Barmbrack is something my mammy made and was my favorite Halloween food when I was a kid.”
Looking at the brown bread with light and dark raisins almost reminded me of a fruitcake my grandmother made for Christmas. I had never liked it, and used to dissect the insides until a mountain of jelly candies sat on my napkin before throwing it away.
Deirdre placed her hand on Connor’s. “I rarely bake this, but tonight’s a special night. Barm comes from a brewery, and we use it as yeast. We bake it with raisins and little surprises. Little trinkets. Each trinket symbolizes something for the coming year.”
Jaime cut a thin slice and spread butter across the side. “Ma, what’s in the bread?”
I expected a list of ingredients; instead, Deirdre rattled off objects. “A stick, a ring, a coin, a rag, a pea, and a thimble.”
I widened my eyes and then looked at the slice of bread Jaime had placed in front of me. “That’s in here?” I pointed to the flat slice on my plate.
“Yes and no. I hid charms representing all those items and wrapped them in parchment paper so the cake is still safe to eat. I think we all should dig through and see what we find.”
The four of us ripped our barmbrack into tiny pieces, searching for parchment paper and charms. More than half the bread remained uncut.
