“Heaven help me,” she groaned. “I’m goin’ to sleep. I’m not sure I want you to kiss me, knowin’ where your mouth has been,” she added, crawling into bed.
Sean laughed.
“I’ll brush my teeth. Wait for me.”
She didn’t.
* * *
Sean smiled when he crawled in next to her. She was sprawled sideways across the bed, and he gently moved her over and covered her up. Despite her complaints and wails of embarrassment, she responded beautifully every time he touched her. His adorable bride was not only funny and witty, but touchingly innocent in the ways of the world. He’d have to take good care of her, protect her and devote his all to making their marriage strong.
Looking at her sweet face, her glorious hair spread across the pillow, he realized there would be times it would be difficult to be firm with her. She made him laugh and a laughing man was not very effective when he was trying to get his point across.
He’d already found a house for them. In fact, he’d put in a purchase offer, something she would not take kindly to if she didn’t care for it, but he could not let the huge Victorian home go to auction.
Structurally it was sound. He’d inspected it himself, but it needed a lot of work to make it the home it should be. Maeve wasn’t afraid of hard work and neither was he. Together they would be able to tackle the job.
It would take months, maybe years if he was realistic, but it would be worth it in the end. On the large corner lot, the sloping lawns needed tending, but there were six bedrooms and Sean hoped to fill them all in time. It would have to be a labor of love restoring the original mahogany woodwork and hardwood floors. There would be wallpapering and painting, and new railing for the wrap around veranda, but he could picture them sitting on a porch swing watching their grandchildren at play.
Many of the fixtures were old, but the huge chandeliers could glow once again. The curved stairway to the second floor could shine with new varnish and the attic was big enough they could add more bedrooms to the third floor if need be. He especially loved the huge claw foot bathtub and had even climbed into it to see if his large frame would fit.
Tomorrow they would be heading across the Atlantic. From New York City, they would go upstate by train to the modest city that co-existed with the air base he would be working at. It was there their new life would begin. He wanted to give his wife a life of prosperity, happiness and love. He hoped she would not be too angry with him for choosing their home without her. Seanhoped she would love the house as much as he did; he prayed she would love it as he dropped off to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Thirteen years later
Maeve sat on the porch swing holding a sleeping Bridget in her arm.
“Maggie, I don’t want to see that again,” she said sternly. “You must not pull your sister’s hair.”
“She won’t give me my doll,” insisted eight-year-old Margaret with her hands on her hips.
“Why does she always get the best doll?” whined five-year-old Colleen.
“Your doll was nice too,” Maeve scolded, “before you decided to cut all her hair off. A fine thing too, when you just got her for your birthday.”
“I don’t care,” Colleen cried, jumping up and making a grab for Maggie’s doll. Maggie screamed and held the doll above her head as she took off at a dead run.
“Give her to me,” Colleen screeched, chasing her.
“Rory, come and take the babe while I get after those two,” Maeve called to her oldest son who was playing with a basketball in the driveway.
“When’s Da coming home?” Rory asked, bounding up the porch steps. “They aren’t quite so bad when he’s here.” Reaching down, he took his sleeping sister from his mother’s arms.
“I don’t know,” Maeve replied. “He should have been home last night, but he was delayed. A fine husband he turned out to be, bringin’ me across the ocean, givin’ me all these children to tend to and then goin’ off on a business trip,” she snapped.
Rory sat on the swing and smiled. Ma was all sass and vinegar now, but she’d be just as happy to see their da as the rest of them despite her complaining.
“Patrick, get your finger out of your nose,” she barked as she went inside the house letting the screen door slam behind her.
“When is Da coming home?” Patrick asked. “He promised to get me a new tire for my bike.”
“He’ll be here when he gets here,” Rory replied, rocking the swing when his sister began to fuss. “What are you complaining about anyway? You’re never asked to mind the baby.”
“That’s because you’re the more responsible one, and Ma think’s I’ll drop her,” Patrick said with a laugh as he plopped down beside his brother.
“Maggie, Colleen,” Maeve hollered up the stairs. “Come down here and I don’t want to hear a word of complaint out of either of you. ’Tis time to start supper.”
