by Jane Tara
She went outside and it was more of the same. Crystal and Hilary were on their knees, planting some flowers around the newly dug flower beds, chatting to each other. Rhi was amused to find the buttoned-up Hilary was friends with Crystal.
Crystal let out a throaty laugh. “Not many people I get down on my knees for, Rhi.”
“You’re naughty, Crystal,” Hilary tittered.
“And Hilary usually only gets on her knees to pray,” Crystal said to Rhi.
Another titter from Hilary.
“How’s it looking inside?” Crystal asked.
“Come and have a look.”
Crystal wiped a wrist across her forehead. “I’m fine, love. I haven’t been in there for years. Perhaps once it’s finished.”
Rhi noticed Hilary give Crystal a sideways look.
Everyone was working so hard that they didn’t even realize it was lunch time until Sal Sanderson and her sister Beck from the Wharf Restaurant rolled up with baskets of sandwiches and soft drinks in their van. With their almost white-blond hair, tan skin and pretty faces, they looked like your typical beach babes, but they were also amazing chefs and their restaurant was one of the most popular in town.
“We’ve been swamped with some functions, Rhi, and haven’t been able to help out. So we’re feeding you instead.”
“You didn’t have to do this!” Rhi was stunned by their generosity. By everyone’s.
“Beck is just hoping for a role in one of your plays,” Sal said.
“She can have the lead in all of them after this feast,” said Rhi.
“She went to drama school and has never given up the dream.”
Beck laughed. “I channel my creativity into food now. But I’ll do anything to support this place.”
“Did you bring food?” Jake walked across the grounds. “You girls are awesome.”
Sam and Annie joined them and Rhi noticed as Sal gave Sam a shy smile.
“I just realized how hungry I am,” Annie said, giving both Beck and Sal a kiss. She took one of the baskets. “I’ll start handing these out.”
Jake picked up another basket and headed for the theater entrance. “I’ll eat these,” he called over his shoulder.
“We’d better get back to the restaurant,” said Beck. “Leave the baskets out the front. We’ll pick them up later.”
Sal gave Sam a little wave over her shoulder as she walked to the car. Rhi turned to see if anyone else had noticed. Crystal had, and gave her a wink.
“Finally, things are about to get interesting.”
Chapter 18
Brigid puffed away at her third cigarette of the evening, ignoring Lugh’s glares and Taran’s fake coughing. She was in no mood for dinner tonight. She wanted to be alone. Cutting off Rhi’s money hadn’t sent her running home. Brigid needed to think of something that would.
“So tell me about this new album, Finn,” Lugh said, trying to gloss over his wife’s foul mood.
“I go into the studio next week.”
Lugh nodded his head “It will be marvelous, I’m sure.”
“I’m trying some different things with it. I don’t know…I need a change musically, but not sure what that means yet.”
“As long as you don’t buy a theater in Bumblefuck, Idaho, I’m sure it will mean positive things,” Brigid snapped.
Taran bit back a yawn. “She’s renting it, Mom.”
Brigid shot him a look. “And you, Taran? How was your week?”
“Fine.”
“Surely you can give us more information than just ‘fine.’”
Taran looked intently at his mother. Lugh often put his foot down about things, but he certainly didn’t challenge her like Taran did. Taran’s very presence riled her at times. He treated her with derision. She simply didn’t intimidate him at all. While one glare from her could wither the strongest men, Taran always matched her stare and indicated that he was bored. He found her amusing, annoying and certainly petty. It drove her crazy.
“What have you done this week? Broken any hearts? Stolen any girlfriends?”
“D, all of the above.”
“What about work?”
“There’s a gallery in Boston that is interested in my work. I’ll drive up there in a couple of weeks and meet with them.”
“You should visit Rhiannon while you’re up that way,” Lugh suggested.
“I might.” Taran couldn’t bear committing to anything. He even abhorred committing to a phone plan, let alone real plans in advance or, horror, a relationship. “I’ll think about it closer to the time.”
“When are you going up, Mom?” Finn asked.
“When hell freezes over and women embrace cellulite.”
Taran let out a laugh. “You really are in a charming mood tonight, Mom.”
“Taran, I’m tired from work, that’s all.”
A woman tentatively approached the table. “You need to know—”
“Oh just fuck off will you,” snapped Brigid. “What do we need to know? That we’ll burn in hell? That your vengeful bloody god will strike us down?”
The woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, I was going to tell you that your show saved me.’”
Brigid looked shocked. “Oh. I don’t mind knowing that.”
Lugh reached out a hand to the woman. “How did it save you, dear?”
“I followed your instructions to get out of a real bad relationship. I disconnected energetically from it. Saved my life. Thank you.”
“No, thank you. We appreciate you sharing that with us, don’t we, Brigid?”
“I do, honey,” she said plastering a smile across her face. “I thought you were one of those god-botherers.”
The woman looked relieved. “Oh no, I haven’t been to church since Jesus wore sandals.”
“I apologize for snapping,” Brigid said, clearly not.
“Don’t you worry. Enjoy your dinner.” The woman gave them all a nod and scurried away.
Brigid let out a weary sigh. “Since Jesus wore sandals? We really need to find a new local. The clientele here has gone to the dogs.”
Lugh gave his wife a look that said zip it, and turned his attention to his sons. Brigid actually did as she was told, which was rare. But she wasn’t in the mood to challenge Lugh. He might normally be extremely patient and even-tempered, but watch out if you crossed the line. He had great respect for their fans. While she admired this about her husband, she really had no idea why. Most of them looked like rejects from a Renaissance faire. Her own respect was faked, although only she knew that.
Brigid lit another cigarette and stared into space. Her thoughts drifted to the only thing she’d been able to think of for weeks.
*
Brigid was reeling. This was not part of her plan. Just when she was being offered the opportunity to make something of herself, her dearest friend was going to stand in the way.
“Please understand, Bridge.” Crystal was pleading now, still in her bed sheet. “I don’t want to be famous, like you do. I don’t want to be in the public eye.”
“So you’re ruining my chance because of that?”
“That’s unfair.”
“The producer was clear…he wants two witches for this show. Two!”
“That’s your fault for writing about me in the article without my permission.” Crystal pulled the sheet tight.
“I didn’t use your name, just the details of our life together. Of you and I being best friends.”
“Don’t pull that card on me, Brigid. I am your best friend. And if you were mine, you would understand why I can’t do this.”
“Well, I don’t,” Brigid snapped.
“You need to find someone else for this.”
“Oh yeah, witches are a dime a dozen.”
“They are in New York.” Crystal was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. “How about Lugh Wall? He’s a very powerful witch, and has had a huge crush on you for months.”
Brigid rolled her eyes. “Not my type.” She sat in front of Crystal so they were eye to eye now. “Please, Crystal. Be a friend.”
Crystal was immovable. “I am your friend. But I can’t do this.”
“Is it because of whatshisface in there?” Brigid nodded toward Crystal’s bedroom door. “You’re besotted. He’s fogging up your brain.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Don’t let him get in the way of our friendship.”
“I’ve never felt this way before.” Crystal looked at Brigid, begging her to understand. “But this isn’t because of him. It’s the craft, Bridge. I don’t judge you for wanting to commercialize it. I don’t. But it’s not my path. I’d be more than happy just working from my own shop, and practicing solitary. That’s my path.”
“This is my moment, Crystal.”
Crystal nodded. “It might be. But it’s yours. Not mine.”
“So you’ll destroy our friendship over this?”
“I don’t believe it’s so flimsy.”
Brigid smiled at Crystal. She always had been naïve.
Chapter 19
By the time St Patrick’s Day rolled around, Rhi felt as if she’d been living in Hamlet for years. She was enjoying her work, her theater, her new friends and the little town. So far there wasn’t a single thing she missed about New York, except for her father and brothers.
Rhi spent the day cleaning all the light fittings. Some were simple brass and glass ones while fothers were fiddly glass chandeliers. Her brain was ready to explode by the time she was finished, but she was happy knowing one more job could be crossed off the list. She locked up and headed into the center of town.
Hamlet was decked out in green. There were shamrocks and streamers everywhere. The town was throwing a huge party, with various events planned for the weekend.
Annie was waiting outside Crystal’s with Sam and Jake. She was wearing blue jeans and an emerald blazer with emerald stones at her ears and throat. Her hair was pulled into a chignon to show them off.
“Am I Irish enough?” she said as she kissed Rhi hello.
“Perhaps you’d prefer a pint of Guinness to this,” came Tye’s voice behind them. She thrust a tray of takeaway coffees at her friends. “Sorry they’re not green,” she said. “But they’ll warm you up.”
“Exactly what I need,” Rhi said.
Tye propped the tray against the shop, and then the five of them made their way to the edge of the pavement. It was crowded by Hamlet’s standards, but there was still plenty of room to move.
“So Rhi, what do you think of Hamlet today?” asked Annie.
“Very…green,” Rhi said.
“Looks like a leprechaun threw up,” Sam said.
“A giant leprechaun…and he exploded all over town,” Jake added. “Attack of the killer leprechaun zombies.”
“And you wonder why you can’t get a date,” Annie said.
Sam gave her a wry smile and moved over to Rhi. “This parade has been the same since we were kids. I think they use the same float.”
“Don’t build it up too much, Sam,” Jake called. “Let Rhi be pleasantly surprised.”
Annie pointed at the end of the road. “They’re coming.”
They heard the music first as the procession made its way toward Main Street and then finally turned the corner.
“Don’t blink,” quipped Tye. “Or you might miss it.”
It certainly didn’t compare to New York’s St Patrick’s parade, but what it lacked in size it made up for in enthusiasm. There were music and balloons and streamers. The dance ensemble from the local school gave an Irish jig their best shot. Michael Flatley would have cried but the rest of the town lined the streets and cheered. Tim McCartney wheeled his three-year-old triplets in a green wheelbarrow with McCartney Clan painted on the side. There was also a float with the head of the Irish Heritage Society waving atop it, the high school marching band, three firefighters and two police, a James Joyce Readers’ Association, and a dyke on a bike. Everyone felt she had the wrong parade but gave her a warm cheer anyhow.
Afterward, Annie turned to the others. “That was seventeen seconds I’ll never get back.”
“Don’t be bitchy,” Sam teased. “I remember you used to head that parade up each year, dancing that jig.”
“I know, and I’ve apologized to everyone in town since.”
“Give us a little jig now,” Sam teased.
“In your dreams.”
Tye threw an arm around Jake and Sam. “We’ve gotta love you and leave you. We need to set up for tonight. Let’s go, you two.”
“See you at O’Reilly’s,” Annie called after them, as Rhi gave them a wave.
“What now?” she asked.
“I think we should head back to yours, crack open a wine, and find you a decent outfit for tonight.”
Rhi looked down at her jeans, covered in dust. “I happen to like this look.”
“I’m not adverse to it myself, but tonight you need to dress for Paddy. Ceridwen is playing and the whole town will be turning out with their best Irish face.”
“You guys sure do take it seriously.” Rhi slipped her arm through Annie’s. “C’mon then.”
Back at the cottage, Rhi headed straight upstairs. “Make yourself at home, Annie.”
“I will…seeing I own it.”
Rhi showered and then rifled through her wardrobe. She’d lived in nothing but jeans and sweatshirts since arriving in Hamlet. She dug out an old favorite from the back of her wardrobe: a belted emerald green jersey dress that clung in all the right places. It had long sleeves but a short hem, so she paired it with brown boots with sky-high heels. She let her freshly washed hair hang loose, threw on a couple of bangles, and was ready to party.
Annie whistled as Rhi walked down the stairs. “I sure hope you have a permit for that.”
“You told me to dress up.” Rhi shrugged, taking the glass of wine Annie offered.
“I didn’t mean for you to look that hot. Now no one will look at me.”
Rhi laughed. “Rubbish. Sam and Jake can’t take their eyes off you.”
Annie flicked at one of her fingernails, as though she was cleaning something under it. “I’ve been thinking about what you and Tye said over at my place, about choosing. And I think I should encourage them to…date other women.”
Rh nodded. “That’s up to you, but one of you will have to move on first. You can’t keep this up forever.”
“No. It’s unsustainable.”
But Rhi still didn’t believe Annie was convinced.
*
O’Reilly’s was already packed when they arrived.
Rhi signaled Stan. “Do you have a red with my name on it, Stan?”
“One look at you, Rhi, and I have more than a red with your name on it,” Stan called, as he grabbed a bottle and an opener. “You’ll like this one. A playful Pinot.”
Annie’s face lit up and she motioned for someone to join them. Rhi turned to see Crystal making her way across the room. The woman moved with sexy grace, greeting everyone she knew, and many she didn’t know, along the way. Dressed in head-to-toe fluorescent green she looked like a huge leprechaun with expensive jewelry. Only Crystal could get away with such an outfit without looking ridiculous.
“Don’t you look bright?” said Annie.
“I love green. It’s very healing.” She gave Rhi and Annie a kiss each. “Looking lovely, ladies.”
“Do you have any Irish in you?” Rhi asked her.
“I haven’t for many years,” Crystal said cheekily. She perched herself on the barstool and ordered a Guinness. “Excellent source of iron,” she explained to Rhi. “I find the good in all my guilty pleasures. That’s the secret to a guilt-free life.”
“Give us an example,” Rhi asked.
“Chocolate is full of antioxidants, as is red wine. The occasional cigarette is the perfect antidote to a constant habit. Casual sex with Larry is good for my blood flow and skin. Live without an o
unce of regret, and no harm will come to you.”
“So you have no regrets?”
“None I’m sharing.”
A large man in his seventies wearing a bowler hat and a cravat walked past and gave Crystal a wave.
Crystal leaned in to Rhi and chuckled. “Apart from him. He’s a regret.” And she threw her head back and laughed, and Rhi joined in. She thought Crystal was nothing short of fabulous.
The bar filled up quickly. Many faces were familiar but there were a lot of out-of-towners as well. O’Reilly’s and Ceridwen were famous for their St Patrick’s Day celebrations. Stan had some extra staff on, including Jules, who gave Rhi a wave. In return for helping out at the theater, Rhi had bought a bunch of Avon products that she would probably never use.
“How’s that lip plumper, Rhi?” Jules called over the noise.
“Better than collagen, Jules. Very Angelina Jolie,” shouted Rhi, trying to make her lips look fuller as she spoke.
“I popped one of those cuticle moisturizers aside for you. Just let me know when you need it.”
Rhi gave her a nod and silently wondered if her cuticles needed their own moisturizer.
A murmur rippled around the room and Rhi noticed that the band had made their way to the stage. Her eyes flickered over Tye in a white shirt with a dark green shamrock across the front, but rested on Tad. Why oh why did the man have to be so good looking?
Tad settled into his seat and raised his head, locking eyes with Rhi across the crowd for a brief moment. Then, rocking to a silent rhythm, he began to play a haunting melody. After a moment Sam joined in on the guitar, followed by Jake on the whistle. Finally Tye’s voice rang out across the room and time was lost in the lilting sounds of Ceridwen. Their music, perfect and glorious, took over Rhi’s body and seeped into her soul.
Ten minutes; thirty; one hour passed and then it was over and all Rhi was left with was gratitude. She cheered along with everyone else, the spell broken by doing so. The band had played some of their familiar tunes but had mainly stuck to Irish folk ballads in honor of St Patrick. It had stirred deep memories in Rhi, of long forgotten lives in lands forever altered. She turned and looked at Annie, who was dabbing her eyes and trying not to ruin her makeup. They locked eyes and then burst into uncontrollable giggles.