Loving Irish

by Katy Regnery

  Reaching up to massage his jaw with his thumb and forefinger, he nodded. “For Rory. He’s been on my case to shave it for months.”

  “You look…” Familiar. Handsome. Heartbreaking. “…good.”

  “You look beautiful,” he said softly, his voice lowering so that only she could hear him. His smile faded away, the expression on his face changing until it almost appeared that he was in pain. But his gaze was so steadfast, she couldn’t look away. Between them, his chest rose and fell, his breathing audible in her ears. Hers did the same, every cell in her body leaning into him, toward him, like a flower to the sun.

  “I…I…” She didn’t know what she wanted to say; too many words jumbled in her mind. I wish things had turned out differently? Thank you for all the work you did on my house? Thank you for nurturing my daughter? I can’t stop thinking about you? But she couldn’t seem to form meaningful words. Instead she just nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

  He took a deep breath then offered her a small smile and his bent elbow. “Well, like it or not, we’re partners.”

  “What?”

  “Best man and matron of honor. Partners.”

  “Oh,” she said, dropping her eyes to his elbow and realizing that he was offering it to her. They were going to walk down the aisle together. And tomorrow, they were going to do it again, in a church, while his brother and her best friend bound themselves to one another until the end of time. “Right.”

  He searched her face, keeping his elbow extended. “Will you take it?”

  And she felt it—right then, right there:

  If you don’t want him…if you never want him again, make an excuse to go find Jenny, or go talk to Brittany, or use the ladies’ room. If you want to close the door on forever, say no. Right now, right here, say no and walk away.

  Still looking deeply into his eyes, she reached up with a trembling hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, watching the worried lines smooth out on his handsome face and wondering if her heart could stand the risk of loving him out loud again.

  CHAPTER 8

  While the beginning of the evening had started in a place of high and intense emotion, the rest of it had been light-hearted, full of fun, and uneventful.

  They rehearsed the ceremony twice, then immediately filled the other half of the room to party. Cocktails were followed by dinner and then by toasts and singing.

  Hallie and Jenny were seated at a table with some of Hallie’s old friends from Summerhaven and a few acquaintances from Boston, while Ian sat with his sister, parents, cousin, and other visiting Havens several tables away. And yes, they did meet on the buffet line over the chicken piccata once, and he did catch her eyes once as Finian sang “Lock Up Your Daughters,” but Tate had poked her in the ribs, stealing her attention away.

  “Who is that?”

  Hallie looked at the table where the Havens were singing, her eyes landing effortlessly on Ian. “Who? Ian?”

  “No, Hal. I know who Ian Haven is. He hasn’t changed a bit.” She gestured with her chin. “The brown-haired one with the guitar. Some younger Haven brother we never met?”

  Hallie shook her head. “Nope. That’s their cousin. Finian.”

  “Oh,” she said, nodding like she should have known. “That’s Finian, huh?”

  At about the same time, Finian had looked up too, still singing his heart out—Where girls are good-looking we’re looking for fun! Oh, we’ll chase them and catch them and love them! So lock up the last one—as he grinned at Tate.

  “He’s trouble, huh?” she asked, a catlike smile on her lips.

  Hallie shrugged. “I don’t know him.”

  As the song wound down, Tate looked away from Finian, turning to Hallie. “I’ve been meaning to ask: what’s it like being around that rat, Ian Haven, again?”

  She didn’t like Tate calling him a “rat” but set that feeling to the side.

  Hallie took a deep breath. “Confusing.”

  Tate’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Confusing? Why? What the Sam Hill are you confused about? ’Member Vicky?”

  “I remember Vicky,” said Hallie with a sigh. “But that was a long time ago.”

  “A leopard don’t change its spots,” said Tate, taking a sip of champagne. “If you’re smart, you’ll steer clear of him.” She leaned over and kissed Hallie’s cheek. “I gotta powder my nose. You coming?”

  Hallie smiled at her friend and shook her head, turning to look at Jenny, who sat beside her, resting her weary, little head on the table. “Big day tomorrow, and my baby’s fading. I think I better get her home.”

  “See you tomorrow, Hal.”

  “See you tomorrow, Tate.”

  Jenny had fallen asleep in the car, and Hallie carried her inside the cottage. After she was settled into bed, Hallie removed her makeup and changed into pajamas. For a minute, she thought about making a fire and pouring herself a glass of wine, but her weariness won the draw, and she got into bed instead, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling as she thought about her evening.

  On one hand, there was Ian—handsome as hell, and so kind to her and Jenny. She’d taken his arm when she probably shouldn’t have, but that damned tenderness inside of her was asserting itself, making itself known.

  On the other hand, there were Tate’s words—Tate, who’d been a witness to what had happened with Ian—telling her not to get tangled up with him again.

  Unsurprisingly, perhaps, Hallie ended up dreaming about a gentle leopard who couldn’t change his spots, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much she wanted him too. And when she woke up the next morning, she was still tired.

  But today is Brittany Manion’s wedding day, she reminded herself, smiling as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. And God couldn’t have offered a lovelier day for it, she thought, walking over to the window. Sun sparkled on the lake, and puffy white clouds floated across the sky. It didn’t look as warm as yesterday, but that was okay. It was a crisp, cool autumn day. Perfect for a wedding.

  “Mommy!” exclaimed Jenny, running into the bedroom. “It’s Auntie Britt’s wedding day!”

  “I know!” said Hallie, impulsively grabbing her daughter around the waist and picking her up for a cuddle.

  And to her delight and relief, Jenny grinned at her mother, placing her little hands on Hallie’s face. “I love you, Mommy.”

  An arrow to the heart.

  I’m dead.

  It had been months since Jenny told Hallie that she loved her. Months of not speaking and anger and sadness. Months of Hallie second-guessing her worthiness as a parent. Months of wondering when and if her child would “bounce back” as the doctor had predicted.

  Somehow it had happened. Jenny was restored to her. And it filled her heart with so much joy, she couldn’t contain it. She squeezed Jenny close. “I love you too, baby. You’ll never know how much.”

  “Mommy, you’re hugging me too hard!” cried Jenny, and Hallie leaned back a little to look into her daughter’s face.

  “Sorry. I’m…I’m just so excited about today.”

  “We’re getting our hairs done and our fingers painted.”

  “We sure are,” said Hallie, thinking they’d better shake a leg because they needed to meet Brittany and Tierney at the beauty salon in Meredith in about an hour.

  “And then Auntie Britt’s going to get all dressed up like a princess.”

  “And you too, Jen-Jen.”

  “And you too, Mommy. Like last night.”

  “Last night?”

  “You looked beautiful, Mommy. Mr. Haven said so.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He told me. He said, ‘Your mommy is the most beautiful woman in this room.’ Then he smiled and shook his head and said, ‘I take that back. Your mommy is the most beautiful woman…in the whole world.’”

  “Ian said that?”

  “Uh-huh,” said Jenny nodding with a chipper grin. “He likes you lots, Mommy.”

  “Jenn
ifer Giovanna Silveira, are you playing cupid with me and Mr. Haven?” she asked, trying not to smile back at her minxy little girl but losing the fight.

  “Does that mean I want him to kiss you like Ariel and Eric?” she asked, referring to her favorite Disney movie. “Yes!”

  Hallie shook her head at Jenny, making a silly face, then tickled her belly until they were both giggling.

  Finally, Jenny wiggled out of her arms. “I’m making cereal. You come and eat breakfast, Mommy, okay?” Then she ran out of the room to go make two bowls of cereal.

  Sitting on the bed, in the bright autumn sunshine, Hallie marveled at her mended relationship with Jenny. She recalled that the morning after they’d arrived at Colby Cottage, Jenny had slapped her bowl of cereal away. Several weeks later, here she was, cheerfully fixing them breakfast. It felt so good. And she breathed deeply, knowing that she had one specific person to thank.

  He deserved to hear the words. He deserved to know how much he’d helped her.

  In fact, all he’d done since she’d arrived back in Summerhaven was help her.

  And what is love, if not helping someone you care for and expecting nothing in return?

  “Mommy! Breakfast time!”

  Scooting off the bed, Hallie joined her daughter for breakfast, then quickly got them both dressed and out the door, driving twenty minutes to the salon in Meredith and getting there just as Britt and Tierney were pulling in.

  “Good morning!” called Brittany, who was holding a tiara and veil covered in clear plastic.

  “Auntie Britt!” cried Jenny, running to her godmother. “You’re getting married today, and I’m a cupid!”

  Hallie cheeks flamed as she caught up with her daughter. “Hi, ladies! What a beautiful day for a wedding.”

  “Or for playing cupid,” deadpanned Tierney. She cocked her head to the side. “So it was you. All those years ago. You were the one.”

  There was no use denying it. Hallie nodded her head. “It was me.”

  Tierney winced, looking away from Hallie for a moment before turning to her again. “It destroyed him. Not that I blame you. I know he did something terrible to you. But whatever it was, he wasn’t the same after it happened.”

  Hallie knew this because Brittany had filled her in on Ian’s steady decline after she’d left Summerhaven Camp that July. At the time, she’d felt vindicated by his behavior—she felt that he ought to feel terrible about what he’d done. But now, it hurt a little to think of Ian spiraling down like that.

  “He made a choice,” she said softly.

  Tierney held Hallie’s eyes, her voice gentle, but insistent. “Maybe he made a mistake.”

  “Maybe,” said Hallie, thinking about his face that morning—his shocked and confused expression, like he had no idea how he’d ended up in bed with Vicky. And she thought about the work he’d done for her, despite her cold treatment of him. What did it all add up to? She was still trying to figure it out.

  “I think he still loves you,” said Tierney carefully, her green eyes so much like Ian’s, Hallie couldn’t look away. “If you don’t love him…if you can’t love him…tell him that.”

  “I already have.”

  “Yeah.” Tierney nodded as though she should have already known that. “That’s Ian. He might give up on himself sometimes, but he’ll never give up on someone he loves. He once told Rory that of the three of us, Rory was the heart, I was the soul, and he was the entertainment.” She chuckled softly. “He was right about everyone but himself. He is entertaining sometimes, but his purpose is deeper.”

  “What is it?”

  Tierney offered Hallie a small smile. “Ian’s the glue.”

  “Um…hello? It’s my wedding day!” Britt, who was holding Jenny on her hip, grinned expectantly at her friends. “Are you two finished with Ian?”

  “For now,” said Tierney.

  Not by a long shot, thought Hallie, though she kept the words to herself, following her friends toward the salon.

  “I’ve never been here,” said Britt, “but all the ladies in my book group said it’s the best place in town. It just opened.” She put down Jenny to open the door, leading the way to their morning of beauty.

  Hallie looked up at the sign over the posh salon that read “The Fountain of Youth.” With a bubbling fountain in the courtyard in front of the business, it was a pretty clever name. In fact, she was still musing over the wittiness of it when she suddenly realized that it had a double meaning.

  Fountain.

  Like Lafontaine.

  Like Vicky Lafontaine, who looked up from behind the reception desk with a cheerful grin when they walked in.

  “’Morning, ladies! Welcome to the Fountain of Youth!”

  “Vicky? Vicky Lafontaine?” asked Britt, her breathless voice telegraphing all of the shock that had made Hallie’s blood run cold as soon as she matched the salon name with Vicky’s face. Brittany whipped her head around to look at Hallie, her expression horrified.

  Hallie felt like a fish on land, her lips parted, her lungs empty. She wanted to run, but Jenny had taken her mother’s hand and was looking up at her. “Mommy? Is that Auntie Britt’s friend?”

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to scream no. But all she could do was stare at the woman who’d once been the girl that shattered her dreams.

  “Oh, my Lord! Is that Brittany Manion? Give me a hug! It’s been years!”

  Vicky bustled around the counter in her chic black cocktail dress and high heels, pulling Britt’s stiff body into an awkward hug.

  “I never stop by on Saturdays, but my receptionist called-in sick today so I came by to help! I had no idea you were coming in!” Vicky leaned away, her eyes landing on Britt’s veil. “And it looks like it’s a big day for someone!”

  “I’m…I’m getting married.”

  “Here?” asked Vicky.

  “At, um, Summerhaven. Um, do you own this place?”

  Vicky nodded. “I do! Fountain of Youth. Get it? Fountain? Like Lafontaine? Although that’s not my name anymore. It’s Rodney. Victoria Rodney. I married a banker in Boston who had a lake house on Winnipesaukee. We bought this place over the summer. It’s his little tax write-off and my little hobby.”

  Leave, thought Hallie. Leave before she notices you! Just grab your child, turn around, and go. Britt and Tierney will understand. Go! Just go!

  But she was frozen in place, staring at Britt and Vicky’s unlikely reunion with a sort of horrified fascination.

  “We come up every other weekend. Gabe likes to fish, and I was bored so he bought me this,” she said, gesturing to the salon with an elegant hand. “Keeps me busy when we’re up here in the wilderness,” she finished, finally letting her eyes wander to Tierney, whom she looked at in surprise. “Is that Tierney Haven? Oh, my God! You’ve changed!”

  The Tierney of their youth had been bookish and awkward, but there was no trace of her now. With long, black hair and huge green eyes, the adult version of Tierney Haven was a knockout.

  “You haven’t,” said Tierney, taking a step back to stand beside Hallie.

  Vicky’s eyes slid to Hallie and her jaw dropped. “And—oh, my God!—Hallie? Hallie Gilbert? Is that you?”

  “It is!” exclaimed Jenny. “My mommy’s name is Hallie!”

  Vicky stared at the child. “Mommy? Oh, my. Hallie had a baby.”

  “I’m not a baby,” said Jenny with a frown.

  Vicky dismissed Jenny with a shrug, her eyes trailing up Hallie’s old Saint Laurent jeans and ivory cashmere boat neck sweater. “You always had style, Hal.”

  “Thanks, Vicks,” she said without smiling, her voice relaying all the bitterness and hatred she felt.

  She turned away from Vicky, catching Britt’s worried eyes, which flicked to the door then back to Hallie. Do you want to leave? Forcing herself to think about someone other than herself, it occurred to Hallie that it would be impossible to find another salon with four available appointments for washes, blow dries, updos,
manicures, and pedicures at the last minute. They were stuck. She shrugged, forcing herself to give Brittany a wan smile.

  “Well!” exclaimed Vicky. “This is fun! Let me run back and make sure everyone’s ready for you and we’ll get started, okay?” Tossing her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder, she sauntered into the back of the salon, out of view.

  Hallie finally took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping and her body weak. Vicky Lafontaine. Fuck. What a fucking nightmare.

  “Unbelievable,” she whispered.

  “Hallie!” Britt grabbed Hallie’s hands, holding them tightly. “You say the word and we’ll go. I promise. We will walk out of here and—and—and well, we’ll just do our own hair and nails.”

  Taking a deep breath, Hallie let it go through pursed lips. “No. I’m not doing that to you. I’m not letting her do that to us.”

  “Can someone clue me in?” asked Tierney.

  “Can we tell Tierney?” asked Britt, and Hallie nodded, finally giving Brittany permission to spill the beans. She turned to her almost sister-in-law. “As you’ve already guessed, Ian and Hallie secretly dated the summer we were seventeen.”

  “So how does Vicky figure in?”

  Brittany winced. “He cheated on Hallie with Vicky. Hallie found out, left camp, and they never saw each other again. Well…until last month when Hallie moved back up here.”

  “Oh, God. Oh, Ian, what did you do?” muttered Tierney, her voice laced with disgust. “Come on.” She looked up at Hallie. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Tierney.”

  Vicky returned with a flourish. “Britt, I have Nadia ready for you. Tierney, you’re with Inga. And the child is with Stacey.” She looked at Hallie. “Hallie, Johann is finishing up with another client. Can I get you a cup of coffee while you wait?”

  Hallie shook her head, taking a seat in the reception area while Britt, Tierney, and Jenny were shepherded to the back.

  Wow, thought Hallie, looking up at Vicky, who drummed her shellacked nails on the black marble reception counter as she reviewed an appointment log. This is the definition of awkward.