“They are Claddagh rings. A few of them were passed down from my mother, and others are rings I’ve bought over the years. The Claddagh ring was traditionally a wedding ring in Ireland, though that’s not the case anymore.” She hands me a cup of tea, and I follow her to the table. The downstairs remodeling is fully complete now, and my favorite room is the enlarged kitchen and dining room. It manages to be both elegant and homey at the same time.
We take seats at the large, thick wooden table with matching chairs. “There is one tradition that is still upheld in Ireland, though, when it comes to Claddagh rings.”
She hands me a plate of homemade cookies, and I lick my lips as I select one. Roni is always baking, and there is always cake in this house. It only gives me an additional excuse to drop by daily. “What is it?” I ask before taking a bite of the sumptuous chocolate chip cookie.
“It’s said that if it’s a leap year and the woman proposes to her partner, the marriage will be a long and happy one.”
“And women in Ireland still do that?”
“Yes. And get this.” She waggles her brows. “If the man says no, he must compensate her with an expensive gift. Or so the legend goes.”
“I bet the men don’t do that.” I stuff the last piece of cookie into my mouth.
“Probably not, but I like to think no man rejects any woman who has the guts to propose to him on February twenty-ninth.”
“You’re a huge romantic.” I grin at her.
“I am.” She sips her tea. “I’ve been reading romance books since I was ten, and they’ve definitely influenced my relationships. I’m lucky I married a man who appreciates romance and finds ways to show it.” She nudges my shoulder. “Your dad is like that too.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a big ole romantic at heart. He’s always leaving little love notes in envelopes for Mom, and if she’s had a long day at the studio, he gives her foot rubs and runs her baths, and he regularly does the grocery shopping because he knows Mom hates it.”
“Tony is like that too, and it’s those little gestures, the things that show he’s thinking about you and trying to find ways to meet your needs and support you, that mean more than flowers and chocolates. Though I still like getting those.”
“That’s so amazing. I have always dreamed of finding a love like that.”
A twinkle glints in her eye, and I brace myself. “You know, Callan told me when he was fifteen, he’d only ever have one girlfriend, and she would be the one.”
My cheeks are so hot I feel like I need to douse myself in cold water. “Um, yeah, he mentioned that to me.”
“I know you’re both young and anything can happen, but sometimes you just know, and if it happens to be you, love, I would be overjoyed. We both would be. Callan is so happy, and a lot of that is thanks to you.”
This is a lot. Too much pressure, even if we were dating for real. But we’re not. It’s all fake, and right now, I hate that we’re deceiving his mom. She’s going to be so disappointed when it ends, and Callan returns to Ireland in June.
I hop up, desperately needing some air. “I’m, ah, just going to go see if Callan is finished.”
“Astrid, wait.”
Roni pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry, love. I overstepped, forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I say, squeezing her tight. If this were the future and my relationship with Callan was real, I would love nothing more than to call this woman my mother-in-law because she’s the best, and I love spending time with her.
“Callan has struggled a lot the last couple of years, and seeing him so content and happy means everything to us.” Tears well in her eyes as she holds my hands. “You bring out the best in my son, and you’re the most wonderfully special person, Astrid. Wanting you to be the one for Callan comes from the best place.” She releases my hands, placing hers on her chest, in the place where her heart lies. “But you’re only seventeen, and I’m being ridiculous. It’s the romantic in me.” She laughs, swiping at her tears.
“It’s okay. If it helps, I really like Callan, and he makes me happy too.” I can give her that because it’s true, even if our relationship isn’t.
“I’m glad he’s treating you right, love. Let me know if he isn’t, and I’ll box his ears.”
A laugh tears from my lips. “You raised him well, Roni. He’s a true gentleman.” Memories of his fingers deep inside me surge to the forefront of my mind with the worst timing. It’s a miracle I don’t go up in flames.
“Go on, honey. I’m sure Callan needs a break. We all know how he feels about that green bathroom.” Callan and his dad are upstairs ripping it out because the contractors are coming in tomorrow to build a new non-green one. We’ve gone for a classic white toilet, sink, and tub with a fully tiled main bathroom. Arainforest shower will go on one side, and the new design even leaves room for a tall white unit to hold towels and toiletries.
The tiles we have chosen are exquisite. White porcelain with a mix of silver and gold veins. We’ve gone for a larger tile to make the room look bigger. It reduces the grout lines and tricks the eye into thinking it’s a seamless look. It will be relaxing and luxurious, and hopefully, Callan won’t feel like puking every time he goes in there.
I walk up the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky steps. Tony is planning to do the stairs last after all the workmen have finished traipsing up and down.
“I’m sorry for some of the things I said,” Tony says, and I stop on the second-to-last step, unwilling to interrupt whatever conversation they are having.
“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” Callan replies, and I cringe, not wanting to eavesdrop. But if I move to turn around, I’ll probably give myself away and ruin the moment.
