Becoming the Whiskey Princess

by Toni Aleo

“It’s a part of life, Amberlyn, to be scared. The other thing, I know it’s in there, the trust, the believing. Ya just have to find it again. It’s lost in the shitstorm my ma has caused. I can’t help ya find it; ya won’t let me. So go on, I’ll be waiting.”

  Tears stream down my face as I shake my head. I don’t want to be in a shitstorm without him. I want us to face it together, but why don’t I say that? What is wrong with me? Why am I so fucking scared?

  Clearing my throat, I close my eyes before glancing back at him, sucking in a deep breath. “Do I kiss you goodbye?”

  His eyes soften then. “Do you still want to?”

  “Declan, I still love you. More than anything. I’m just so fucking scared.”

  “There isn’t anything to be scared of, though. I’m not gonna to hurt ya, change ya, or anything else ya can come up with. I want only to love ya back.”

  A tear runs down my cheek, splashing against my hand. “I’m just scared.”

  Holding my gaze, he nods. “Fine, go on in there, then. Maybe Fiona can help ya with your fear since I can’t do shite, apparently.”

  “It isn’t that; it—”

  “Go on, Amberlyn,” he says, interrupting me. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “So you don’t even want to talk about it?”

  Looking back at me, he glares. “Amberlyn, do ya want to talk? ’Cause I’ve tried, and you want to leave. I bring ya here, and now ya want to talk? I don’t know what to do here, lass, and you aren’t helping me at all. Tell me what I have to do to make you feel better, to make this fear go away. I want you to be confident in us.”

  “I am.”

  “Then what do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly because I don’t. I don’t know how to make this fear go away.

  “Sure. Then, go on with ya,” he says, shaking his head.

  I watch him for a moment, tears still streaming down my face as I try to figure out what to do. Do I leave? Do I stay? I have no clue. I’m so inexperienced when it comes to men, but I’m not stupid. I’m scared, and there has to be a reason for that.

  Biting my lip, I wipe my face before asking, “So do you want to kiss me goodbye?”

  Looking over at me, he just looks so sad. “Yer killing me, love.”

  “I know,” I answer with a slow nod.

  “But, I do. C’mere,” he says, his brogue thicker with all the emotion in his voice. Reaching for me, he holds my face for a second, his eyes searching mine. “This isn’t goodbye, though. You’ll go in there. Talk a bit with yer cousin and hopefully decide to believe me when I say I’m not gonna change ya.” Before I can say anything, his lips press against mine, my eyes drifting shut as we slowly kiss. I want to get lost in his kiss; I want to forget his mom altogether, but what if I’m right for feeling like this? What if I go upstairs and Fiona begs me to leave him?

  Will I?

  Could I?

  Pulling my mouth from his, I know it won’t be easy, but I need someone’s input. I need to talk to someone.

  But what I really need is my mom.

  Getting out of the car, I go to shut the door as Declan says, “I love you, Amberlyn.”

  Unable to look at him because I know if I do, I’ll lose it even more, I say, “I love you too.”

  I then shut the door and head to the front door. After I knock on it, Fiona opens the door and a huge grin comes over her sweet face. I must have pulled her from bed; she’s wearing sweats and a tee with her hair pulled up on her head. She looks a little pale and I worry she’s sick, but before I can ask, she looks at my bag and then back at me, her brows furrowed.

  “Oh no, what happened?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah, of course,” she says ushering me in, holding me close to her. “Yous didn’t break up, did ya?”

  I shake my head, my tears coming faster down my cheeks. Sitting on the couch, she takes my bag, throwing it on the floor before gathering me into her arms.

  “Now tell me what’s wrong?”

  I explain it all. How I feel like I don’t fit in, how his mom is always trying to make me into this person I’m not, how I found my mom’s picture in her study, and all about their past. Then about Declan and my fight.

  “He’s out there, waiting. Like a fucking gentleman, and it kills me, Fiona. But what if I’m making a mistake?”

  She nods, her head leaning on mine as she sucks in a deep breath. “But what if leaving him would be the biggest mistake of your life?”

  Hiccupping on a sob, I close my eyes. “I don’t want to leave him. I want to be with him, but I don’t want to be what they want me to be.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “It’s hard though. ‘Being an O’Callaghan, you have expectations,’ you’re the one who told me that from the beginning.”

  Pulling back, she looks at me, a grin forming on her lips. “And you’ve not become one of them. You are still the same girl you were when you came here, just more in love than anything.” Moving a piece of my hair out of eyes, she holds my gaze as she goes on, “What is a name, Amberlyn? Just ’cause that name is one thing doesn’t mean it’s you. He isn’t going to do that to you. He loves you too much.”

  “I’m just scared.”

  Holding me tightly, she whispers, “My dad once told me that fear is a liar. That it makes you believe something that isn’t true. Or something that will never even happen. Do you really, in your heart, believe that Declan would have you be anyone but who you want to be? Hasn’t he been the one changing? I mean, the Declan now versus the one before, whoa! And you? It’s easy to see you’re loved. You’re glowing. He wouldn’t dim that for nothing. He feeds off yer light. I mean ya ask him to move out of his house and he’s considering it; that’s huge since he wants to live there till his dying day, yeah?”

  “Considered it. He’s probably waiting for the moment to tell me he doesn’t want to go, and then it starts. I’m stuck in that damn house ’cause I’m not going to leave him. I love him. That’s probably why he wanted me to wait till after we were married. I’m not going anywhere, then!”

  Looking deep into my eyes, Fiona shakes her head. “Do ya really think that? I mean, everything I’ve seen, he’s bent over backwards to make sure you had, or he went against everything his parents said. He’s been doing that from the beginning. Is it really this, or is it because she did your ma dirty and you still don’t like her?”

  “It isn’t that I don—”

  “Ya don’t like the woman, and that’s fine. Who really likes their mother-in-law? Well, minus Kane’s ma; she’s a true sweetie.”

  I shrug as tears flood my eyes. “I don’t know. It just bothers me that she felt she needed to warn me of how Mr. O’Callaghan changed her.”

  “Did ya think maybe she isn’t happy and sees how happy you and Dec are? That she is losing her son to ya? Misery loves company, Amberlyn.”

  “I know,” I say with a nod. “But I don’t want to think of her as being deceptive like that.”

  “Well, don’t. But don’t hold Declan to it.”

  “No?” I ask. “What if it’s a sign to run?”

  “Would ya run?”

  I look at her with wide eyes. “I came to your house.”

  “’Cause ya knew I would tell ya to go back,” she says just as the door opens and Kane comes stomping in.

  “I smell like hell. Don’t come near me ’cause I’m going right back out.”

  “Didn’t plan on it,” she calls back at him. “Where ya off to?”

  “Well, since yer best friend and my best friend are fighting, I’m gonna go sit with mine and get smashed while yous two cry in ya ice cream or whatever ya lassies do,” he says as he rustles through the fridge.

  With a grin, she says, “Love ya, honey.”

  “Love ya too. Get yer head out yer arse there, Amberlyn,” he calls before going back out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Fiona grins over at me and says, “Ya know, I love tha
t man.”

  I roll my eyes. “’Cause he’s a good guy. You two complete each other.”

  “Yer right. Do ya think he’d love Declan the way he does if Declan weren’t a stand-up guy?”

  Looking down, I shake my head. “I don’t think he isn’t. I’m just scared to lose myself.”

  “Ya won’t. Yer too strong, Amberlyn.”

  I know this. I do, and I know that I am being a little ridiculous, but something is holding me back from getting up and going back home with Declan.

  “Amberlyn, what do you want?”

  Looking down, I bite my lip. Tears gather in pools in my eyes, making my vision blurry. I know what I want. “I want my mom.”

  “Aw, sweetie, come here.”

  As she gathers me in her arms, I don’t know why I said that. Yes, I want my mom—I would do anything to have her back—but maybe it’s because I need her here. I need to hear from her that I am being dumb and that I won’t change. That I’ll be me no matter what. I want her to meet Declan and love him the way I do. I want my dad to walk me down the aisle and tell me how gorgeous I am as he gives me away. Is this really what my problem is?

  “Didn’t ya tell me that she loved Declan in your dream?”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I nod. “She did.”

  “Okay, don’t ya think that means something?”

  “Yeah,” I say, nodding my head. “I just miss her.”

  A sob escapes my lips as I fall into her lap, closing my eyes tightly as I cry. She doesn’t say anything as she runs her hands through my hair, slowly massaging my head as we sit in complete silence. Gathering me tighter to her, she kisses my forehead.

  “What if ya went back to the States?”

  Opening my eyes, I look up at her. “Huh? What for?”

  “To go see her. Yer da too. Maybe it will make you feel better, and maybe it will also help with knowing that you’ll never change because they raised ya.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe it’s the fact that everything is changing so fast, ya know? You need that reassurance. Go back to your roots and get that. I think it might help.”

  Holding her gaze, I think that through. It’s a good idea. Maybe it will help. But then I shake my head. “The wedding is in three weeks.”

  “Yeah, so? Go this weekend. We can go dress shopping when you get back. I look good in anything.”

  I scoff as I nod, but then my grin falls. “I really don’t want to leave Declan behind though. He might think I’m leaving him or something.”

  She laughs. “Well, tell him of course, but also, how ya gonna say you don’t want to leave him, but you come over here unsure if ya should marry him?”

  I shake my head as I laugh. “I love him and maybe I’m blinded by that. That’s why I would change.”

  With a deadpan look, she asks, “That’s dumb. Ya haven’t changed yet, why ya going to later?”

  She does have a point.

  Standing up, I grab my bag and lean to her, kissing her forehead. “Thank you.”

  She smacks my ass playfully. “Anytime. Call me when ya get back so we can go shopping.”

  “I will,” I say, opening the door. Declan and Kane look up from where they are drinking beers against his car.

  “Hey there, ya get yer head out yer arse?” Kane calls to me, and Declan smacks his chest.

  “Shut up, Kane,” I say as I walk toward them.

  “Well, here’s to hoping, yeah?” Kane says, smacking his shoulder, but then he pauses, whispering something before he turns to head toward the apartment. When he reaches me though, he leans into me, giving me a side hug and then whispering, “He’s really hurting over this, Amberlyn. Don’t go over there saying Fiona helped you to realize yer outta ya Godforsaken mind thinking he would change ya ’cause he’d never do no such thing. His ma is off her rocker too. Don’t listen to a word from her. He loves ya, okay? Let him help you realize this. All he wants is for ya to be happy. Okay, lass?”

  Looking up into his dark eyes, I smile. He loves his friend so much, and maybe I was completely out of my mind for thinking Declan would do anything but love me completely. Hoping to convey that to him, I nod my head before saying, “You smell like death, Kane.”

  Giving me a lopsided grin, he nods. “I know, see ya.”

  “See ya,” I say, and then my gaze meets Declan’s. Leaning against the car in all his sexy glory, he holds his beer by the neck of the bottle, his eyes trained on me. Sucking in a breath, I head toward him and his eyes don’t leave mine as I stop before him. Neither of us says anything for a moment, both of us searching each other’s eyes as we stand in the last light of the day.

  Clearing my throat, I say, “Hey.”

  “Howya,” he says, taking a pull of his beer. “That didn’t take long. Only two beers.”

  I nod as I look down, kicking the dirt. I hate feeling like this. I just want to go back to us. Before all this. I’ve messed everything up, and I feel that the root of the problem is my grief. I’m so scared to lose the person my parents molded me into that I’ll believe anything that could threaten that.

  “So?”

  I look up, biting my lip. “I want to go back home for a visit. I miss my mom and dad a lot.”

  He nods his head. “Before or after the wedding?”

  “Before.”

  He looks down, swinging the bottle at his side. “When?”

  “This weekend.”

  Looking up at me, he holds my gaze. “I’ll make it happen.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to. I just wanted to let you know where I was going.”

  “I want too. I’ll have our jet take ya.”

  Surprised, I ask, “You have a jet?”

  “Yeah,” he says with a nod.

  “That’s cool, I guess.”

  “Eh, being O’Callaghan has its perks. Today though, no perks. Just a shitestorm.”

  I smile as I look back down, wringing my hands together. He then asks, “Are ya coming home?”

  I meet his gaze and shrug. “If you want me to.”

  “Of course I do,” he says, reaching for me and wrapping his arms tightly around me. Nuzzling my neck, he kisses it as his fingers dance along my ribs. I can smell the beer on his breath and it reminds me of the pub. Of the first few days here when I was a crying heap of sadness. He helped me out of that, but yet, I’m trying to push him away.

  Why? What is wrong with me?

  “I want to go with ya and meet yer parents, Amberlyn.”

  Cuddling my nose in the crook of his neck, I feel how hot his skin is underneath my lips as my tears splash against his face. I want that more than anything, I do, but I really don’t understand how he still wants to be around me after all the hell I’ve caused. Whispering still, he says, “I also don’t want to be away from ya a second longer.”

  Kissing his neck, I nod my head. “I don’t want that either.”

  “So we’ll go together?”

  Pulling back, I met his gaze as my eyes drip with tears. “I would like that.”

  I can barely see the two tombstones that sit before me.

  My eyes are full of tears and my lip starts to wobble as my heart pounds in my chest. There are flowers all over both their graves, and I wonder if my uncle had something to do with this. I spent most of the morning at my old family home, packing and going through my parents’ things and also the things I left behind. It was hard, but I was happy with what I kept.

  Which was almost everything.

  Declan has been very sweet, saying that we’d “find a place for it” whenever I asked if I could have it shipped back home. He has been a saint since we left Fiona’s. I assumed we would leave that Friday, but he had us on the jet this morning with arrangements for us at a hotel with the promise that we could stay as long as I wanted. When I told him that I wanted to have stuff shipped, he had a moving company at the house within an hour. I’m not sure how my uncle feels about it all, but then, he is getting my house at a steal of a price, so he wi
ll be okay.

  My only complaint so far is that we haven’t talked much. It’s been very simple yes-and-no questions. It’s weird and I don’t like it, but then I think that maybe he is giving me space to think. I never did tell him that we were good, but then he never asked. All he’s really been doing is talking on his phone or checking emails. Even when I was going through everything, he was on his phone. I don’t know if it’s his way of letting me be or what. I know he still cares and loves me—he’s done nothing but show that since we left—I just wish he’d get off his phone. But then I feel like an asshole because he’s missing work to be here with me. We are not there to do last-minute planning for the wedding because I wanted to come home. He won’t even answer his mom’s calls. He’s shutting down on me, on everyone, and it’s all my fault.

  He brought me here to see my mom and dad. Here I am, and I have no clue what to do or even how to move.

  Seeing their names on the tombstones is so very real. I am used to seeing my dad’s name. There wasn’t one Wednesday or Sunday a month that we didn’t come to clean off his grave and set new flowers out. The flowers that lie on their graves now are gorgeous, and I’m surprised that someone took the time to put them there. Especially if it was my uncle since he hated my dad. My mom always said that he thought my dad was bad news, but he was completely wrong.

  My dad was a great man.

  Looking at his grave, I swallow my sob as I read the words that will be etched in my brain for the rest of my existence.

  Tomas Albert Reilly

  7-2-1970 to 9-23-2007

  His soul to Amberlyn.

  His heart to Ciara.

  “Wow, that is beautiful,” Declan says from beside me, and I look back at him, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand.

  Glancing back at the stone, I close my eyes, wanting to hear him say it to me. But I don’t hear anything. Nothing, except my sobs. Whispering, I say, “He always said that to us. That my mom had his heart and I had his soul. I was the one who told her to put it on his tombstone.”

  Lacing his fingers with mine, he brings my hand up to his lips, kissing it softly as he cocks his head to my mom’s. “I think that’s my favorite though.”