Bev waited until the two young women left with their autographed copies before she spoke pushing her black-rimmed glasses back on the bridge of her nose. “You look positively horrible.” Leave it to Bev to speak with such honesty. “Thanks.”
“Well, I do have to call it as I see it. Hey, count yourself lucky. Even at your worst, us poor slobs don’t stand a chance.” How could anyone keep up? She was in a kickboxing class four days a week, hiking once a month with her family, and of course every year there was the cross-country race that she and her brother, Connor, trained for nine months out of the year. Was it a wonder that her six-foot frame looked like it belonged to a top model? “Roger is history, isn’t he?”
“Nothing gets passed you. Are you a mind reader or something?”
“No. It has been over your usual two-month standard. That’s about when you dump them.”
“You mean they dump me.”
“Mentally, you’ve already sent them packing. I’ve seen you in action. You fall fast and hard, then within a week you have seen through their superficial existence.”
“I’m still trying to figure out what draws me to them.”
“That’s easy. It’s your strong mother instinct. None of these men, if you could even call them that…were men. They were little boys that haven’t found themselves, and have no direction in life other than being your boyfriend. No goals, no ambitions, and you soon realize that you can’t change them.”
“Are you a shrink now too?”
“If I need to be.” They were silent for a few moments then Bev leaned forward. “If you’re going to keep picking these guys with the capital L stamped on their forehead, then just sleep with them quickly and toss them aside.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why? Men do that all the time to women. They don’t seem to mind.” “Well I do. I want a meaningful relationship.”
“Still looking for the knight in shining armor, are you?”
“Don’t forget the white horse.” They both laughed, before Bev became serious.
“That’s a fairytale, honey. There aren’t any men out there like that. I know. I’ve been married three times.” “My mother found my father.”
“Then he’s the last of the breed.” She shook her head. “My advice to you is use the bastards then move on.”
“I’m selfish, Bev. I want the real thing. You know, to fall in love. Until that happens, I won’t take that next step in the relationship. I’m willing to wait it out.”
“What are you saying? That you never slept with any of the guys you dated?”
“Do you mind keeping it down?” Aislinn looked around to see if anyone overheard.
“How in the world do you write steamy romance novels like you do, if you never experienced the real deal?”
“I’m human, Bev. I have desires. I just never let it go that far. Jumping in bed only confuses the issue.” For a moment wistfulness in her expression stole across her face. “He’s out there. I just haven’t found him yet.”
“Here’s a little hint, he ain’t likely to be standing in the welfare lines.” “Ha, ha. Do you mind if we stop talking about my personal life? I have
books to sign.”
“Fine. I’ll fetch us some coffee before the official line up begins.” She left A.J. as another Hennessy follower walked up.
A couple of hours flew by with an occasional slow point where Bev pulled out her planner and was able to corner Aislinn on two more book signings, and a guest appearance on the local radio station.
“Don’t forget, I’ll be gone a month.” “A month!”
“Ireland with my family. We’ve had this planned for a year. You know, a return to the roots sort of thing. My father migrated from the Emerald Island.”
“Any family left over there?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but I think that my pop was homesick. It’s been over twenty years for him.”
“Maybe you can use this little excursion as a research tool for your next novel. You’ve started on it, haven’t you?”
With the breakup, she hadn’t exactly felt like writing. She hedged trying to think of a plausible excuse, other than the obvious. She turned away startled to see that someone was hovering over her.
Even Bev was taken aback. “Where did she come from?” slipped out before she could stop herself.
The lady had to be the oldest person either one of them had ever seen with so many wrinkles that it was hard to tell where the lines ended, and where the next ones began.
“Do you wish to have an autographed book?” Aislinn asked feeling almost uneasy by the way the woman was just staring at her.
She finally spoke her voice raspy thin, “Tá sé in am agat imeacht.”
“I’m sorry we don’t speak…” Beverly began only to realize she wasn’t sure what language the woman had used.
“Céard a deir tú?” Aislinn answered in the same gibberish making Beverly’s jaw drop.
The old woman just nodded and handed Aislinn what she had been cradling against her chest. Aislinn stared at the decrepit, leather-bound book that had been placed in her hands. She glanced up again to ask the woman what she wanted her to do with it, but she had already moved away, disappearing behind a line of school kids that had just entered the store. Aislinn jumped up, weaving around them trying to wave the woman down. She rushed outside after her, but it was as if the woman had simply disappeared.
“What was that about?” Beverly asked when Aislinn had returned, “and what language were you conversing in?”
“Irish. The woman spoke Gaelic.” She opened the book that was handwritten in the old script.
“That looks absolutely ancient.” Beverly looked over her shoulder to have a closer look.
“I know and for the life of me I cannot think of a reason why she would have given it to me.” On the front-page the initials F.O. were inked in a heavy hand. “I guess it was asking too much for there to be a name and address where I could send it back.”
“Looks like a journal. Are you able to read it, A.J.?”
“I’m sure if I looked it over I could translate most of it.” Aislinn turned the pages carefully so not to tear the fragile parchment.
Beverly glanced at her watch. “We’re about finished here if you want to head out now. I can tell you’re just itching to get started.”
“Thanks, Bev. I’ll let you know if there’s anything interesting.”
Chapter 4
She read it again. She almost felt that she could hear the anguish in the words that were written, and her heart went out to the man that had grieved
so deeply.
“Cailleadh roimhaois é. He died before his time,” the person had written.
“I was too late to save him. It was my fault for not seeing the trap that was waiting for us. I have seen death, but this was like nothing that I have ever witnessed. What my dear cousin had endured in the last moments of his life could have been avoided. How I wish that I could somehow turn back time,
so that I may stop the slaughter from ever taking place. I sent him to a torturous death. He fought well that much was obvious for there were many of the enemy scattered in bloody piles around him.
I could not let them take his body away to do with as they wished, for there was no doubt that they would have mutilated it without a thought. He was, after all, to them, just a man that had betrayed them. It never amazes me how they make these lies up to suit their needs. I have hidden his body well, in an unmarked grave, but of sacred ground. Forgive me, cousin, for not protecting you. Forgive me.”
Aislinn closed her eyes as grief squeezed at her heart. The passages had left her drained as if she was reliving the final scene from memory rather than words that were written. An odd feeling since she didn’t know these people that had lived so long ago, and yet…there was a sense of a connection. Where she could almost see the man’s face that the author had spoken of with such reverence.
Aislinn glanced at the clock on the
wall with a sigh. She knew that she had to put the journal down, if she was ever to get ready to go over to her parents’ for dinner. It was almost five o’clock and she promised Connor that she would pick him up on the way.
At the Hennessys, dinner was skinless, grilled chicken on a bed of wild rice. Aislinn helped to throw together a tossed salad. She was grateful that so far no one brought up the fact that there was an empty seat where Roger used to sit. Thank God, Ireland had been a family vacation, and she hadn’t purchased a ticket for Roger to go with them.
“We want to make a full sweep of Ireland.” Conner poured himself another glass of wine. “I think I could get some pretty nifty pictures for the magazine. The place is full of castles and ruins and it’s so green. How could I go wrong?” Her brother was a freelance photographer with a gifted talent where magazines sought him out, rather than the other way around.
“I think as long as we follow our plan, and utilize our time wisely, we can see about everything,” Francine Hennessy added. Their mother was a well- organized person. They could pretty much depend on her to handle that aspect of the itinerary.
“Pop,” Aislinn looked at her father, “where exactly do the Hennessys hail from?”
“At one time there were four Hennessy Septs spread all over Munster and Leinster. There were towns named Ballyhennessy. Our stronghold was in the north Offaly and near the hill of Croghan and Kilbeggan. We shared its lordship with the O’Holohans. This was where you would have found our family but after the Norman invasion the clan went south to Cork, Limerick and Tipperary…the Pale.” He added the last with almost a sound of disgust.
“Is there anyone still there that you know?” Connor asked.
“Nay.” Their father shook his head almost sadly. “Everyone is long dead and buried I suppose.” Francine reached across the table gently placing her hand on his. Aislinn always wondered why her father spoke of his ancestors with that subtle melancholy of someone who was speaking of a close endearing relative that had just passed away. What she could remember, his family had all perished long before Connor or she had been born.
“Didn’t you have a friend?” Connor snapped his fingers. “What’s his name? Fierce Ax, wasn’t he from Ireland too?”
“Aye. Knew my family well that man did.” Donagh’s blue eyes glimmered with the memory of him. “I miss him more times than not,” his voice had taken on a husky tone, and he quickly rose from his seat hoping no one noticed how emotional he had become. “Let’s clear the table and take out the maps,” he added gruffly.
While Aislinn and Connor were cleaning up, Francine pulled her husband aside not fooled in the least that he had nearly broken down. “Are you sure that you want to go back?”
“To me own home? Aye, I am ready to face the ghosts. The question is, are ye all right with it? Ye are not worried?”
“I am, but I can do this as long as I am with you.” She hugged the brawny man of hers, and he wrapped his arms lovingly around her slim form, making her instantly feel like she was well protected.
After the plans were set, Aislinn went out to the porch. She wrapped a large blanket around her and sat down on the lawn chair. She noticed that there was a full moon on this clear night.
She hadn’t been out there long when her father had decided to join her. He handed her a mug that contained freshly brewed coffee.
“Yer mother thinks that ye will catch a chill.” Aislinn took the cup, warming her hands against the ceramic.
“This was just what I was hoping for. Are you going to join me, Pop?” Donagh pulled up another lawn chair. They just sat there, father and daughter enjoying the company without saying a word. They could always do that without it seeming uncomfortable, but after a moment Aislinn realized by the way her father was fidgeting that he wanted to discuss something with her. Finally, he spoke, “Aislinn.” He only called her by her given name when
he was going to speak of something of great importance. “I worry about ye finding yer way.”
She chuckled. “I think that you should worry about Connor.”
He shook his head. “Nay, it is ye that I worry about. Are ye all right with this parting of ways that ye and Roger have taken?”
“Yeah, Pop. He wasn’t the one.” She sighed deeply with regret. “The right one is very important. We are two halves of a whole.”
“And we should fit together like we were never apart. I know, Pop. Like you and Mom.”
He nodded. “Daoine d’aon mhianach, Kindred Souls. I had prayed for a woman, the likes of yer mother. I was blessed. Be patient and ye will find that someone too. Aye?”
She looked at her father and smiled. How wonderful it would be to find a love like her parents with that inherent strength that made marriage last a lifetime. “I almost forgot. I wanted you to take a look at something. I could make out most of it, but I thought you might be interested in it, too.” She put down her mug and went inside the house to grab her backpack. She retrieved the journal and handed it to her father.
“What is this?” He took the book from her.
“I had a visitor today at my book signing. She spoke Gaelic.” Donagh gave his daughter a startled look. “The old tongue?”
“How she knew that I would understand her is beyond me. Then she handed me this and disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” His graying brows furrowed.
“I guess I’m being a little dramatic. I lost her in the crowd. Now look.” She leaned over her father’s shoulder. “See how old it is?”
Donagh had already scanned a page and he knew of what time and place it had come from. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he glanced at his daughter who was intrigued by the mystery, but all he could feel was apprehension.
“Aislinn will be the one to go, Francine.” Donagh felt his wife move beside him and he slipped his arm around her small waist. They waved goodbye to their children as they pulled out of the driveway.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because she is searching for something that she cannot find here. I believe it is the same pull that drew ye to me.” He looked down at his sweet woman he had married twenty-six years ago. She was still so beautiful, and if it were possible, he loved her even more today. “But will she be ready?”
“We trained her well, Francine. She’s versed in the languages. She is strong physically and mentally as well. She is prepared.”
“I still worry if we are doing the right thing. Maybe she won’t find what she is looking for in Ireland. Maybe we shouldn’t have insisted that she….” “Shush now.” He gently silenced her with his finger on her lips. “It has already been written. Ye will see. It is like the old woman had predicted.” Francine sighed knowing that her husband was right, but still it didn’t make her feel comforted with the fact. “The past must be set straight for the future to be secure.”
“Aye. She is of Hennessy blood…”
“You do know that I had something to do with her existence too.”
He chuckled. “I was getting to that. She has the strength to survive and the know how to do it. We should count ourselves lucky that she was an able pupil.”
“This is our daughter you are speaking of.”
“Are we not her parents? We are here to teach her the way of the world so that she can enter it without stumbling on her first go. And if she should fall, we have ensured in her the strength to rise from the ground and go full force again. Strength, self worth, and determination are wonderful gifts to bless a child with, Francine. We accomplished just that.” He gently hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. “We did that, mo ghrá.”
Chapter 5
They were actually going to Ireland. The flight was uneventful, at least after Connor drank himself into oblivion. When the pilot announced that they were flying over the island, Aislinn nudged her brother awake.
“Wha…t?” He yawned. “Are we there?”
“Just look, Connor.” She leaned back so that he could take a peak. “Yeah. Looks
a little flat.”
“Is that all you can say?” She touched the window. “It’s like home.” “What did you say?”
She hadn’t realized she had spoken the words out loud. “Nothing, Connor, go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we land.”
“Good by me.” He punched at his pillow as if it would make it softer then settled down and shut his eyes.
After landing, they managed to obtain their rental and have a light dinner before retiring. The next day, they were ready to hit the pavement. Connor had just entered the room and tossed the travel guide to Aislinn before he threw himself down on the bed. “Mom had the book in her suitcase. What was
it that you wanted to see?”
“Trinity College for one. They have the books of Kells there. It’s a must.” She flipped through the guidebook. “St. Patrick Cathedral and….”
Connor sat up leaning his forearms against his knees. “I happened to catch something that I wouldn’t mind seeing.”
Aislinn brows arched high up on her forehead. “What is it? So help me Connor if you suggest another pub, I’m going to strangle you.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “That’s for later. I want to see St. Michan’s Cathedral. Flip to page eleven. It’ll tell you all about it.”
After skimming through it, she looked up at him. “You want to see the mummified bodies? That seems a little morbid, don’t you think?”
“On the contrary, my dear sister, it sounds absolutely fascinating.” He sprang from the bed. “Come on, let’s get Mom and Pop on the move. It looks like we have a full day ahead of us, if we plan on walking the city.”
As they passed the Inns Quay and turned toward Church Street, they could see the Square tower. “That’s it.” Connor pointed to it. “That’s St. Michan’s. The church was originally built in 1095. Then sometime in the 1600s they rebuilt a larger church on the same site to accommodate the congregation.” Connor stopped to adjust the lens of his camera for a picture.
Lost in the Mist of Time Page 2