“Eh, you’re better off without them.”
“I ignored all the signs.”
“Can I cheer you up? My parents and I decorate for Christmas every December eighth, and I’d love you to come to my house and be a part of it.”
I kissed his soft lips and draped my arms around his neck. “Thank you. I would love that.” Eagerness brewed at the thought of seeing Connor and Deirdre one last time before I left for America. I wanted them to know how special they made me feel by including me in all their traditions.
“And then, Rory Stanley, I want to whisk you away for a romantic night in a castle.”
My eyes widened, and I pulled back to see his face. “Are you sure? That’s way too much money.” In all my time with Scott, he never took me away for a romantic weekend, let alone to a castle. My heart throbbed, hoping he didn’t back out at my hesitancy.
“Consider it a Christmas gift from me. I hope you never forget this semester.” He picked up my hand and kissed each finger. “You may not realize this, but I am completely smitten with you.”
I wanted to tell him I was smitten too, but the words wouldn’t form. Scott and Marty’s betrayal, my father’s infidelity, and my mother’s indifference iced my heart. My vulnerability so soon after Marty’s confession held me captive. Instead, I kissed his neck, and he sighed. “I can’t wait! Next weekend?”
He nodded, and I jumped up clapping my hands. “I’ve always dreamed of sleeping in a castle,” I said.
He pushed my hair out of my eyes and kissed my nose. “Princess Rory, you deserve it.”
A haunting question from that seasick day dripped out of my mouth. “Jaime, are you my leprechaun? Or, uh, my fairy? Are you saving me from my evil parents and arranged marriage?” I chuckled, knowing how ridiculous I sounded.
“Our story isn’t over yet. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Chapter 34
“Rory, dear, today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception,” Deirdre explained, “And to celebrate, we set up our Christmas tree.”
“Do you do this every December eighth?” I asked.
“Yes, and the tree goes down on January sixth. That’s Twelfth Night, the night the three wise men showed up with their gifts for the baby Jesus. If you take down your decorations before or after Twelfth Night, you’ll bring your baggage into the new year. No one wants that, right?”
“No, not at all.” I thought about the baggage I would carry into the new year: Scott, Marty, school, and my parents. I carried baggage like a prized possession and wished my family had some tradition of leaving it at the door.
She sat before me, and I gulped when I saw an ax gently swinging from her gloved fingers. I’d never seen one in person before, and this was the length of a newborn baby, hanging to her knees.
“When I was a wee one, we spent the day shopping in Galway before returning home for dinner and setting up the tree.”
“That must have been really nice.” I glanced at Jaime through the small window, standing outside with Connor hooking up the trailer to the truck. “So, are we cutting down a tree or going shopping?”
“It’s a splendid day to cut down a tree. We have trees growing in the back acres. Not too many, not enough to sell and turn a profit, but enough to decorate our home year after year.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather not do the cutting.” I widened my eyes at the sharp, shiny ax.
“No worries, dear. I’m the one who usually picks out the tree while the boys chop it down.”
Deirdre placed the ax against the coffee table and walked to the kitchen to stir the mulled apple cider simmering on the stove. Hints of cinnamon, cloves, and apples rose from the pot when she removed the lid.
“Thank you for having me today. I know it’s an important day for you and your family, and I’m happy to be here.”
“Aye, I should be the one thanking you.” She scooped cider into a mug and passed it to me. The hot cup immediately warmed my hands, and I inhaled the sweet aroma.
“Why?”
“Well, you make my son happy. I once met his girlfriend.” She air-quoted the relationship. “In fifth class, and I haven’t met anyone since. Not even during secondary school.”
“What’s fifth class? How old was he then?” The vocabulary around education confused me.
“Oh, about ten. It was nothing serious, just the girl down the street. Cute thing. They always played together. He’d bring her over, and they’d play outside. One day, I made them sandwiches, and he handed her a flower, announcing her as his girlfriend. It was sweet. It meant nothing, but still sweet. I knew then that he’d make a great husband when he found the right lass.”
