by Jan Moran
Davina patted Fianna’s hand. “Let me deal with them.”
Aside from the disaster, Fianna still had to focus on business, which was the main reason she’d agreed to do the show. “Have you heard from any of the buyers who were present?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“One step at a time, I suppose. I’ll follow up with them soon.” Publicity was welcome, but what Fianna really needed was sales. She chewed her lip as she thought of how much this had cost her. She’d drained her savings to put on a first-class show, hoping to gain retail orders and expand distribution, which would in turn drive licensing opportunities. This had been a monumental gamble for her. And now she was on the losing end. Her head throbbed at the thought.
Davina rose regally from the sofa and started for her bedroom. “I plan to have a swim and massage before the rehearsal dinner tonight. I’m booking a massage for you, too, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“You’ll not hear that from me.” Fianna rotated her aching neck. She also had to work on Lizzie’s dress to have it ready for the final fitting she’d promised her sister today.
Would Lizzie actually go through with the wedding?
Fianna gathered her violet pashmina shawl around her against the evening chill and gazed at the stately home before her, silhouetted against the clear night sky. The rehearsal dinner was being held at Shane O’Donnell’s family home. She had Lizzie’s wedding dress covered in a protective plastic bag flung over her arm. She’d finished it just in time before leaving the hotel.
The O’Donnell House, as it was known, was surrounded by a thicket of trees and set on a high promontory overlooking the ocean. A golfing club was located nearby, where the O’Donnell’s were members. They were quite well to do, though Gerald O’Donnell’s eldest brother had inherited the majority of the vast wealth and land holdings of their father and his ancestors.
Therefore, Shane’s cousin Doyle stood to inherit one of the largest fortunes in Ireland—a fact that didn’t escape Mary Margaret Fitzgerald.
“Fianna, must you wear those high heels? Goodness, you’ll tower over Doyle.” Her mother walked beside her, reciting a litany of instructions.
“I don’t want to discuss this, Mam.” As if the embarrassment from the fashion show disaster wasn’t enough, she also had to face Doyle and his friends this evening. She’d give anything for an escape hatch right now. If Lizzie disappeared, she was definitely going with her.
“The entire county knows you rebuffed him, but I know there’s still hope.” Mary Margaret gave a sharp nod. If nothing else, she had faith in Fianna’s ability to land Doyle O’Donnell.
Fianna stopped on the stone path, letting the rest of the family walk on without them. “I’ve told you I have absolutely no interest in Doyle. We are not getting married.”
“You should reconsider. A woman has to look out for her future. As your mother, I must guide you in these matters.” Mary Margaret pressed a hand to her chest and took a series of short, sharp breaths.
At first Fianna thought her mother was merely acting, but then she saw the gray pallor in her face. “Mam, are you all right?”
Her mother turned her face from her. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
Something in her mother’s voice registered an alarm.
Ahead of them Davina turned around. She hurried back to them and touched her sister’s arm. “Mary Margaret, do you need to sit down?”
Fianna took her mother’s other arm. She and Davina guided her mother to a bench on the lawn.
“I don’t know what came over me. Give me a moment.”
Fianna shot a glance at Davina. “This is not about Doyle or Lizzie. Which one of you is going to tell me what’s going on?”
Davina rested her hand on her sister’s shoulder and spoke softly. “Do you have something you want to say to your daughter?”
Mary Margaret raised watery eyes to her. “Why don’t you tell her while I catch my breath?”
Fianna’s heart raced as Davina pressed her lips together. “Your mother has been recently diagnosed with hypertension. Her doctor is trying to get her blood pressure under control with a new medication, as well as dietary and exercise changes. She’s scheduled to see a cardiologist for more tests after the wedding. But right now, stress is a large issue she must learn to manage.”
“Oh, Mam, I thought there was something wrong. I wish you’d told me sooner.” Fianna was crushed with a combination of concern for her mother and guilt over the way she’d spoken to her. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve said. Why, the strain you’ve been under…” She shook her head, feeling ashamed of her part in the arguments they’d had.
“I’m sorry, too, my dear. I’ve meant well, really, but I guess I’ve said harsh things to you, and I regret it. It’s just hard to control my feelings.” Mary Margaret began to weep. “I’ve always been the sturdy one in the family, able to take care of everything and everyone. Now look at me, falling apart.”
“You have taken care of us, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed.” The stress of the wedding couldn’t be good for her mother.
Her mother went on, catching her breath between soft sobs. “But now, I realize I won’t live forever. All I want is to see my girls settled. Emily has her family, and I’m sure they’ll get back on their feet someday. Lizzie and Shane are soon married, but I’m so terribly worried about you, Fianna. Have I let you down?”
Davina slid her arm around Mary Margaret. “Shh, that’s enough worry for you. Fianna’s a smart one, she is. No need to worry.”
Fianna blinked, and as she did, tears spilled from her eyes. She brushed them away with an unsteady hand. Never had she imagined that her capable mother would have issues such as this. Not yet, anyway. Not until they’d made their peace. Fianna took her mother’s hand and stroked it. She was still far too young.
“I know you want what you think is best for me, Mam. But I’m happy with my choices, and I won’t settle for a husband like Doyle who’d try to squash me under his thumb. I don’t love him, and I wouldn’t be able to keep from telling him exactly what I thought of him.”
Mary Margaret laughed softly through her tears. “You’ve always been my outspoken, headstrong girl, you have.”
Fianna wrapped her arms around her mother, and Davina did the same. The three women comforted each other. Mary Margaret sniffed. “I tried to be strong for you, and for everyone in my family.”
“You were, but it’s our turn now,” Fianna said. “You taught us well.”
“I want you to know how proud I was of you yesterday. What a show that was—without the disaster, of course. And your designs! Why, they’re stunning. I never dreamed you were so talented.”
“Thanks, Mam,” Fianna said, her words catching in her throat. Her mother’s words touched Fianna deeply. She realized she’d been yearning for her mother’s approval all her life. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she listened.
Mary Margaret caught her breath and went on. “I hate to admit it, but for years I’ve been envious of the bond that you and Davina have with regard to fashion. I could never understand it. I thought fashion was frivolous, and yet, you’ve both made a living from it. Fianna, I saw how good women feel when they wear your clothes.” Mary Margaret drew her hand across her daughter’s damp cheek.
“That’s exactly what I want for them, to make them feel good about themselves and to give them confidence and creative expression.” Several women at the show had worn Fianna’s earlier designs. She’d been surprised to see that in Ireland.
“And Davina, how happy people were to see you on the runway again. People love to see you wear beautiful clothes. I think it gives them something of beauty to dream about. I could see it in their faces at lunch. For women our age, especially. You’re their champion.”
Davina rummaged in her vintage Dior handbag and withdrew a packet of tissues and passed it around. “I thought we might need these tonight. I just didn’t know we’d need them before we reached the house.”
“I’ll stay and go with you to the doctor, Mam.” Fianna thought about her friend Verena, who’d lost both her parents in an accident. Fortunately, Verena still had her grandmother, Mia. And then there was Scarlett, whose father had passed away. She thought of Niall, whose wife had died so suddenly. She closed her eyes, wishing that she’d seen him when he came to visit her at her shop.
This was the first time she’d had to face a parent’s mortality, and it scared her. Fianna prayed her mother would be all right, but she now understood that life held no promises. It could be sliced short at any moment. Fianna was no longer a rebellious teenager; it was imperative that she make peace with her mother, especially because she lived so far away.
“Promise me one thing, then,” Mary Margaret said, dabbing her eyes.
“What’s that, Mam?”
Her mother managed a wan smile. “That you’ll forget everything I said about Doyle.” She gazed up at the imposing house. “And now, let’s go see if Lizzie actually made it.”
15
AFTER FIANNA HAD collected herself upon hearing her mother’s sad announcement about her health, she made her way into the O’Donnell House with Mary Margaret and Davina. Inside, Fianna gazed around. She’d been in the house many times over the years, but now she looked at it with a fresh designer’s eye.
The large Georgian-era home had cherry red walls and dark polished wood floors over which hand-woven rugs were arranged. Flowers graced the entry and living room, and in the dining room an extended cherrywood dining room table was set with vintage Waterford crystal and china that Fianna knew had been in the family for generations. The sweet spring scent of white lilies permeated the rooms.
“Fianna!” Lizzie rushed to her side and hugged her. “I’m so relieved to see you,” she whispered in her ear.
“How are you doing?” Fianna asked. Davina and Mary Margaret greeted her sister, and then were swept into the welcoming arms of family and friends. She saw Doyle across the room. He waved and smiled—a little too broadly, Fianna thought, for a man who’d just been jilted. Was her mother right? Was he not ready to give up? She sighed in exasperation.
Their families had known one another for centuries and their ties dated back to a lingering feud over horses or land or someone’s wife. So many ancient stories floated around. Who knew what had really happened?
Her father and the O’Donnell clan had met in school and played sports together. They’d become friends and tried to heal the wounds of the past in the family—a task that hadn’t been easy with the older generations. Lizzie and Shane were the first to join the families together. For as long as Fianna could remember, her mother had talked about what a fine match she and Doyle would make, too.
Lizzie nodded toward the staircase. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tell you about what’s happened. Is that my wedding dress?”
“It is.” Fianna whispered back, “Are you still planning on wearing it?”
Without a word, Lizzie clasped her hand and Fianna followed her. On their way, a plain brown-haired woman of about their age stepped in front of them.
“Hello, Lizzie.”
“Hi, Brona.” Lizzie turned to Fianna. “Have you two met?”
Fianna remembered the woman from bar. She’d called her a bitch. “Not by choice.” She gave her a tight smile.
“Brona is Shane’s cousin,” Lizzie explained.
“Cousin by marriage,” Brona said with words so sharp they could’ve sliced through them.
“I’m sure we’ll see you around later,” Lizzie said.
They hurried away. Fianna whispered “She’s dreadful. I hate that you have to pretend to be nice to someone like that.”
Lizzie shrugged. “Comes with the territory.” She pushed open a door to a guest bedroom splashed with pink cabbage rose wallpaper and decorated with an overstuffed floral headboard and chairs.
Lizzie sank onto the bed, her mint green lace dress flaring around her, and sighed. “I’ve been talking to Shane.”
A clock next to the bed ticked loudly in the silence. Fianna placed the dress on the arm of a chair and sat beside her. They might never get around to trying on the dress she’d worked on, but Lizzie’s happiness was far more important. “That’s good. Do you want to tell me about it?” Better they talk now about their desires and differences, rather than after the wedding.
“Shane doesn’t want all this,” Lizzie said waving her hand to indicate the house.
“It’s a responsibility, that’s for sure. Is it what you want?”
“No! What a heavy anchor this is. Actually, I don’t know what I’ll want ten or twenty years from now, but I don’t care about it today. We’re young and we’ve got time before we think about settling down and having a family. I just need time, Fianna. I need to find out who I am and what I want to spend my life doing. Do you understand that?”
“Of course I do.” Fianna thought about her life, and her mother and Davina, and how the choices they’d made when they were younger had set in motion the course of their lives. “Life goes quickly. Does Shane know what he wants to do?”
“Yes, and there’s the problem.” Lizzie leapt to her feet and paced the room, tossing her wavy blond hair back from her face and pressing the palms of her hands against her temples.
Fianna waited for the story to unfold. She had a feeling this rehearsal dinner was going to take quite a turn.
“Shane doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps in business. He wants to study medicine. He feels a calling to be a doctor.”
“A calling is a noble thing. Would you have a problem with that?”
“The problem is where he wants to do it.”
“Not in Ireland?”
Lizzie slowed her pacing by the window and stared into the distance. “He wants to practice in Africa, or India, or even South America—wherever doctors are needed to administer to the poor to raise those on the lowest rungs of the world’s society.”
Fianna released a slow breath. “I see.”
Lizzie turned back to her. “He says there are already so many children who need attention. Why should we bring more into the world?”
“I can just imagine what his parents will say to that.” The O’Donnell’s were a traditional family, and Shane had been groomed to take over the family business when his father retired. “What do you think, Lizzie? Is that a life you’d want to share?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, twisting a tissue she’d drawn from her pocket.
“That’s honest. Getting married is a life changing decision, and this new information must be staggering to you.”
“I had no idea Shane was thinking about something like that. Med school, the travel, leaving our families. Would he ever want to have children of our own? And what would I do?”
“It would be awfully daunting. That’s not just a job, it’s a passion. A calling, to use his words. You have to decide if you can share that dream or not.” What would she do in Lizzie’s position? She could hardly fathom it. Falling in love was more than kisses and sex and holidays. It was the building of a life with someone and the sharing of dreams. If one partner’s dreams were fulfilled, but the other one’s were not, could the marriage survive? Was love really enough?
The thought of Niall drifted into her mind. He had a gift, a passion, a calling, too. Should she have been so quick to label him and leave him? She swallowed a lump lodged in her throat. Would the path not taken haunt her forever?
Lizzie sat beside Fianna and rested her head on her shoulder. “I followed your advice, Fianna. We had dinner and wine—okay, a lot of wine—and I asked him what secret desire for his life he harbored in his soul. But now that his dream is out in the open, it changes everything. I love Shane, and the only thing I wish for him is his happiness. He should have a right to do what he wants in his life.”
“We only get one shot at it, that’s for sure. But what about you? You’re my sister, and I want the same for you.”
Lizzi
e didn’t answer. In the silence, the ticking of the bedside clock grew louder, warning of the need to make a decision soon. Lizzie’s gaze traveled to the dress resting on the chair. “Do I really need to try on the dress?”
“No.” Fianna held her sister and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s finished, and I’m sure it will fit. You’re free to do whatever you want with it.”
Lizzie raised her face to Fianna’s. “Thank you for understanding. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Niall sat in an old wooden chair with his feet propped on a weathered table and gazed over the stone walls of the turret rooftop to the endless sea beyond. Shorebirds and hawks circled at eye level, hunting for prey. Clouds were gathering in the west and the moist air was laden with the scent of rain.
He strummed the guitar he held in his lap, working out the words to the last of his new piece. The music that had poured out of him after he’d met Fianna was some of the best he’d ever written, and he wished he could share it with her.
He’d been thinking about returning to Los Angeles to see her. He could stay at the Beverly Hills Hotel, like he used to before he and Laila had bought the house in Malibu. He liked the little village of Beverly Hills, especially the cafes and the family run shops that hadn’t yet been bought out by Gucci, Chanel, or Cartier.
Not that he didn’t like to pop into one of those stores and buy a special gift for Kaitlin or his mother, but his style was more Gap than Gucci, though he remembered Gucci did have leather goods that lasted forever. He was a man who appreciated quality, especially in music. And women.
Fianna. How could a woman with crazy eyes have beguiled him so quickly? He grinned to himself. That was a good title for a funny little song for her. He thought of the song Willie Nelson had written, “Crazy”. Maybe he was crazy for feeling what he did for her. He’d been through a lot of expensive therapy after Laila died. Was he on the rebound?
He chastised himself for not waiting at her shop the day he’d dropped by. He probably could have gotten her phone number from Johnny, through his girlfriend Scarlett.