“It’s fine,” Vanessa hands me extra napkins.“Jack and I can sit in there with them, and?—”
“Not necessary.”Mason breezes back in.“I explained to Hannah that leaves or not, we need them to watch the other kids.She’s not happy, but she gets it.”
Before I can explain any further or make sure Cillian’s feelings aren’t hurt, Richard’s arriving with Jack right behind him.
I hear Sam’s audible sigh when Richard exits his car alone.“Where’s his dad?”I ask.
She shrugs.“Guess we’ll find out, but as long as he’s not here, that’s fine with me.”Her smile always lifts my spirits.“But either way, it’s definitely something to be thankful for.”
I can’t even imagine having a possible father-in-law who’s that imposing and fancy.I’m terribly relieved I’m not the one meeting his father.Seeing him at that show for five minutes was more than enough of the duke for me.
The rolls finish baking right on time, and buttering the tops keeps me busy while Vanessa shepherds Jack and his kids inside and they all make idle chitchat with Richard and Sam.
Rían shows up with a very cute blonde, and I’m actually a little impressed.I mean, he’s a good-looking guy, but I didn’t think he’d have a lot of local pull, given that he’s a horse trainer for a small and very new resort.Maybe that’s a better job in Ireland than I thought.“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“How can I help?”Caitlin-the-blonde-girlfriend asks.“I’ve never been to an American Thanksgiving, but I’ve always wanted to.”Her giggle’s cute.
“I’m a little embarrassed,” I say.“I got in a rush and burned the turkey.”I grimace.“It’s kind of the central point of most Thanksgiving celebrations.”
“I hear there’s stew instead,” Caitlin says.
“Word travels fast,” I say.
“Well, I’m friends with Ailbhe.”She smiles, like that should mean something to me.
I blink.
“Mrs.Murphy’s daughter?”Her eyebrows shoot up.“She told me she got sick, and that caused you some inconvenience lately.”
“OH.”I shake my head.“Of course.Yes.I’m sorry—I saw her name in a note from Mrs.Murphy before I ever heard it read aloud.I thought it was pronounced Al-beh.”I pull a face.“It’s not an American name, and Mrs.Murphy almost always just says, ‘my girl,’ or ‘my daughter,’ so I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her name said properly.”
Caitlin laughs.“Ah, sorry.Yeah, she told me that you had to handle everything alone yesterday.She felt quite bad about it.That’s why her husband was happy to rush the large stew order for Cillian.”
Small towns are curious places.We aren’t connected in Lismore at all, but sometimes it feels like everyone else has known each other since birth.“He got the stew from Mrs.Murphy’s son-in-law?”
“Lucky that her husband’s still feeling fine.He’s staying at their restaurant for now, since they can’t run their business if they’re both ill.”Caitlin laughs.“Running your own business is amazing, until it’s not.”
“What do you do?”I ask.
She blushes.“I do hair—colors, cuts, that sort of thing.”
I reach for her arm, my excitement quite overcoming me.“You’re kidding.”
Sam somehow heard from across the room, and she entirely abandons her conversation to practically sprint over to us.“Did you say you do hair?”
Caitlin’s eyes go big and round.“Uh, yes, that’s right.”
“I’ve been driving to Waterford,” Sam says, “and I can’t keep doing that.Please tell me you have room for a new client.”
“I found her first,” I say.“Get your own hairstylist.”
Caitlin finally realizes we’re kidding, and she smiles.“Oh, well, I’m sure I can fit you both in.”
“Actually, that’s great for her,” Rían says.“She’s only been doing it here for a few months.She finished school in Dublin and stayed there to work, and just finally came back home.”
She swats his arm.“Don’t tell them that.It makes me sound like I’m no good.”
“Well, you have three new clients and our kids,” Vanessa says.“Your hair turns into a high-maintenance disaster in your forties, apparently.”She runs her hands through her shiny russet locks.“Two years ago, no grey.Now?”She shakes her head.“It’s horrible.”
