Wild Irish Dreamer (The Mystic Cove Series Book 8)

by Tricia O'Malley

  “We’ll talk later,” Aislinn said, and continued into the pub.

  “Talk about what?” Keelin said and looked from Fi to Aislinn. Narrowing her eyes, she looked more closely at Fi. “What’s going on with you?”

  Taking a deep breath, Fi looked to the ceiling and counted to three. Goddess save her from meddling family, she thought, and pasted a smile on her face.

  “Nothing at all, Keelin. Just Aislinn being nosy. You look lovely,” Fi said, and not just as a distraction technique. Keelin had aged well, her curvy body just as generous as it had always been, her strawberry-blond hair only highlighted by the brilliant white strands that now joined it. She’d braided her hair back from her face, leaving the rest to tumble down her back, and though lines now etched her lovely face, in Fi’s estimation they only served to make her more beautiful. Keelin had been like a second mother to her, and every year she grew more stunning.

  “You’ll not be able to keep secrets from this bunch, as you well know,” Keelin reminded her. “When you’re ready, you come tell me what’s bugging you.”

  “What’s wrong?” Morgan asked from behind Keelin’s back and Fi bit back a groan. Morgan – a knockout beauty from the day she was born, from what Fi could tell – looked nervously over Keelin’s shoulder.

  “Morgan, lovely to see you. It’s been a while. How was your trip to the States?”

  “Oh, it was so much fun. We did all the tourist stuff that I’ve been wanting to do my whole life! We went to Times Square in New York and the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. I’m so glad we took this trip.”

  “I can’t believe you traveled in a van for three months. Together. And didn’t kill each other,” Fi said, grabbing onto any conversation that would steer the watchful eyes of her aunties away from asking too many probing questions.

  “Well, I’ll say we had our moments. But Patrick – well, he’s good at smoothing my moods by now, you know. Oh, there’s Kira. I haven’t seen her since she finished up her master’s. Kira!” Morgan called Aislinn’s daughter over to them.

  “Kira! It’s been, what, like three years?” Fi asked, holding her friend for an extra-long hug.

  “Well, if you weren’t so busy traveling all the time, maybe you’d bother to visit us once in a while.” Kira, a strong mix of mystical and pragmatic, wore her hair long and her heels high, and had a sharp mind for business. Under Morgan and Aislinn’s tutelage, she’d become a wildly successful photographer, had rocketed both her mother’s galleries and her own work into successful world-renowned businesses, and now divided her time between Grace’s Cove and traveling.

  “Like you’re one to talk,” Fi said. “Weren’t you just in Nairobi?”

  “South Africa, actually,” Kira said. “Things are well?”

  “As can be. Kira, you look fantastic,” Fi said, admiring Kira’s outfit. She wore slim leather pants paired with combat boots and a wispy lavender lace shirt, and her hair was left messy and tumbling down her shoulders. One feather earring hung from a delicate silver chain at her ear, and mixed metallic necklaces clamored for space at her neck. She should have looked ridiculous, and yet it all worked for Kira.

  “Thanks, as do you. Though you look…” Kira trailed off at Fi’s glare.

  “If one more of you tries to read my aura or whatever, I’m going to scream.”

  “I don’t need to read your aura to know you look tired. Those dark circles under your eyes will tell me just fine.” Kira nodded to Fi’s face. “You’re lucky you’ve a makeup team to do you up nice, or you’d look haggard in the pictures.”

  “Did I say I missed you? I think I forgot what a bitch you are,” Fi said.

  “I thought that was what you liked about me,” Kira said, her grin spreading a mile wide in her lovely face.

  “Remains to be determined,” Fi muttered, then laughed when Kira poked her in the ribs.

  “Ladies,” Cait called from the bar, “I’ve got mimosas. Today is going to be a long day, so remember – water between drinks. And food all day.”

  “She’s speaking like we aren’t Irish,” Grace said, squeezing between Fi and Kira. “This isn’t our first bit of craic.”

  “No, but you know Cait loves driving the train. Might as well let her,” Kira said, turning and hugging Grace close. Despite her mood, Fi’s heart warmed and she threw her arms around her girls. She’d missed these two. So many of her memories included the both of them. It was nice being around people who really knew her. That was the one thing about traveling all the time – she was constantly meeting new people, and had to fill in her backstory. In some respects it was nice, because Fi could always control the narrative and be someone new if she wanted to be. But in other respects, it was lonely. There was nothing like spending time in the company of people who knew her through and through.

  “What’s up with you?” Grace demanded, turning to look at Fi’s face.

  Scratch that thought. Fi rolled her eyes and turned away. “I swear, if one more person asks me that…”

  “Asks you what?” Cait popped up at Fi’s elbow and Fi looked around desperately for a mimosa.

  “I think it’s definitely time for alcohol,” she muttered. Ignoring her mum, she went the bar and grabbed a mimosa. Taking a few quick sips, she let her nerves settle as she looked out at the group.

  They’d kept it small, for Grace wasn’t one for huge crowds anyway, and the group consisted of their nearest and dearest: Keelin, Margaret, Cait, Aislinn, Morgan, and Kira. The only person missing was Fiona, and Fi raised a glass to her.

  “I’m here. You know that,” Fiona barked out from over Fi’s shoulder.

  Fi almost dropped her drink. “Damn it, Fiona. You should be knowing better than to sneak up on a body like that,” she griped, turning to glare at her.

  “If you’d stop blocking your power so much you’d have seen I’ve been here the whole time,” Fiona said, smiling warmly out at the group of women who had descended upon the hair and makeup stylists. Grace circled the rack of dresses and turned with her hands on her hips to look at Fi in question. When she saw Fiona, she bounced over to the bar and took a mimosa in her hand.

  “Fiona! You’re here.”

  “Of course I’m here. Once the stylists are gone, I’ll make myself more known to the group. For now, just know I’m always here with you. Today should be a fun and powerful day for you all. When women come together to celebrate love, it’s magickal.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Grace sighed, tipping her glass to take a sip. “I hadn’t thought I’d be sentimental about all this, but I can’t help it. I’m so happy and I just want everyone to feel this way.”

  “Not everyone gets their love. You’re lucky,” Fiona pointed out. “Some people never let themselves see what’s right in front of them and miss their chance.”

  “Yes, some people do,” Grace said, slanting a look at Fi.

  “All right then, everyone!” Fi pushed away from the bar, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “The theme for the hen party tonight is going to be Un-Bridaled. You get to choose a ridiculous bridal gown to wear all night and yes, we will have games. Feel free to choose from any dress on the rack; I bought a ton in different options as I didn’t know what you would like. Pick your favorite and then let the makeup team work their magic.”

  Squeals greeted her announcement as the women attacked the rack. Fi choked back a laugh as Gracie launched herself into the thick of it, loudly declaring that she was meant to get the worst dress of all.

  “Can we just let today be about Grace?” Fi turned to Fiona.

  “For now, yes. You’ve a good heart, Fi. Listen to it.”

  Chapter 16

  “May I just say, you all look…” Fi struggled to find the appropriate word.

  “Like a bridal cake?” Aislinn twirled in her ruffled explosion of organza and satin. She resembled a cupcake or a cockatiel, Fi couldn’t decide.

  “Like a hooker?” Keelin struck a pose in her body-hugging sequin
and lace number, which was just a shade past slutty into indecent.

  “Like I should be in an eighties music video?” Kira asked, admiring her huge shoulder-padded stuffed sleeves on her ruffled dress.

  “Like a doily?” Cait asked, looking down at her lace hoop skirt in bewilderment.

  “Like Madonna?” Gracie said, voguing around the room in her white leather, lace, and pearl dress. How Fi had been lucky enough to find such a dress, where no fabric or embellishment was scorned, was beyond her, but she’d known instantly that Gracie would love it.

  “Like I’m waiting for my long-lost lover to come back from war?” Morgan asked, twirling in her dress, which did indeed look like a cross between a milkmaid’s uniform and a ghostly apparition staring out to the water.

  “Like I’m the last girl at the ball?” Margaret asked, twirling in her princess gown with horrific pink ruffles and tucks cascading across the wide skirt.

  “And you… Fi. Goddess above, but I think you look like a dominatrix,” Gracie decided and then let out a peal of laughter at Cait’s horrified look.

  “She’s not far wrong,” Kira whispered.

  Fi choked back a laugh as she looked down at her “gown.” Made primarily from white latex, it hugged every inch of her body, making her look wet and shiny. Then the intrepid designer had decided to add crisscrossing ribbons of pearls to all of the dress, and fluttery lace sleeves. A part of Fi enjoyed rocking such a dress, as she’d normally never be caught dead in something like this.

  “It’s a look, that’s for sure,” Fi commented.

  “And how do I look?” Fiona asked, materializing in front of the women now that the hair and makeup people were gone. The women turned as one, shouting their appreciation as Fiona twirled in a slinky satin number. Keelin and Margaret hugged each other, a sheen of tears in their eyes, as they smiled at Fiona. Fi knew it wasn’t often they got to “see” her – that particular gift fell to Gracie. For years, Gracie had acted as translator for the family, filling them in on any necessary messages from Fiona. But in moments like this, being able to physically see Fiona again was astounding.

  “Who knew you’d finally show up in my bar and be a trollop? I should’ve guessed that about you,” Cait teased, though Fi knew her mum well enough to know she was just as affected by Fiona’s presence as the rest of the group.

  “Well, if I can’t have a little fun now that I don’t have to worry about my reputation…” Fiona shrugged.

  “I don’t think you ever really cared about your reputation to begin with,” Margaret said.

  “True enough. What a boring life I would have lived if I’d spent my time worrying over other’s opinions.”

  “Now that everyone is here,” Fi said, bringing the attention back to her, “it’s time for our first game. I have a little scavenger hunt planned.”

  The women cheered.

  “After that, we’ll meet in Aislinn’s backyard for part two of the evening. Part three will reconvene back at here at ten p.m.”

  “What’s part two?” Gracie demanded.

  “You’ll find out when you get there,” Fi said.

  “And three?”

  “If I didn’t tell you two, why would I tell you three?”

  “You’re an odd sort; who’s to say?”

  “Since when am I odd?”

  “You’ve always been odd.”

  “Says the woman who calls on storms when she’s in a bad mood and hunkers in her cottage muttering spells all day,” Fi said, and laughed when Gracie made a motion as though to cast magick over her.

  “Be careful, or I’ll be mixing up a particular brew just for ye,” Gracie warned.

  “That is terrifying.” Fi turned. “Okay, ladies, here are your tasks. Let’s see what you can accomplish. You can do this in teams, on your own, or as a whole.”

  “Oh, let’s go as a whole. It’ll be more fun that way,” Morgan said.

  Fi refrained from pointing out that they wouldn’t be able to determine a winner if they went as a group. This was Gracie’s party; she could choose.

  “Grace?”

  “A whole. Much more fun.”

  “As a whole it is then,” Fi said, and turned to the door. “And there are no rules. You may use all tools and power at your disposal.”

  “Ohhhh, game on,” Gracie cheered.

  “First up, steal a kiss from Mr. Murphy.”

  “Oh, that’s not a challenge.” Kira rolled her eyes. “He kisses everyone.”

  “You have to find him first,” Fi said.

  “Oh, you’ve gone and hidden Mr. Murphy,” Cait laughed.

  “What else is on the list?” Gracie grabbed it from Fi’s hand, laughing as she read, “Guess the number of condoms in the jar. Where’s the jar? Hmmm, persuade Mrs. Culligan to give us all free scones. That’s going to be a tough one – that woman is tighter than Fi’s dress.”

  “I’ll take care of Mrs. Culligan. Many a time she’s had a free pint in here,” Cait said.

  “Dance down Main Street and get three wolf whistles.” Grace laughed, and Fi snatched the sheet back from her.

  “That’s enough. Onward, ladies, onward,” Fi cheered.

  They poured out of the pub in an explosion of lace and ruffles, and headed toward the little downtown in hopes of finding Mr. Murphy.

  “This is really lovely, Fi. You’ve done a good job here,” Cait said, falling into step beside Fi.

  “Thanks, Mum. I think she’ll have fun tonight.”

  “She already is. Just look at her.” Cait nodded to where Gracie was dancing in front of one of the café windows, much to the delight of the patrons inside.

  “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? Did you have another dream?” Cait asked, as they slowly followed the group bounding down the road ahead of them.

  “I did, yes, but it’s something I need to figure out on my own.”

  “Is it? You know I’m always here,” Cait said, squeezing Fi’s arm.

  “I know you are. And I’m ever so grateful for you. It’s just… complicated.”

  “Liam,” Cait said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “No. Yes… maybe not. I don’t know. Maybe him. Maybe your gift of the apartment building. Maybe just looking at my life,” Fi said.

  “You know I’m not one to meddle,” Cait began, and Fi shot her a look. “Fine. I meddle sometimes. But in this, I’ll step back. I can’t speak to what’s going on with you and Liam unless you tell me what’s in your heart. For now, I’ll say, give yourself some space to grow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You always hold yourself to this rigid view of what your life is supposed to be like. Anything that makes you veer from that path gets kicked away. I admire your tenacity, but I also think you might want to take a more flexible approach to your future. You can’t know what it holds.”

  “Well, I kind of can. Sometimes, at least.” Fi squeezed the bridge of her nose as the dream flashed before her eyes again.

  “Predicting the future doesn’t mean one particular way is your future, Fi. We all have choices. You can change your path at any time,” Cait reminded her.

  “And if my predications show me several futures?”

  “You choose your path based on all the information at your disposal.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Fi sighed.

  “Stop lagging! I’ve found Mr. Murphy. He’s hiding in the back of Mary Margaret’s deli. Let’s get him, ladies!” Gracie screeched, and a crowd of satin and lace went running.

  “Let’s go!” Cait grabbed Fi’s arm and together they raced down the street in time to see Gracie dip Mr. Murphy in an Oscar-worthy kiss. The old man’s cheeks bloomed an alarming shade of red, and the entire group of women cheered.

  “I think that’s the first proper kiss he’s had in years,” Cait decided, coming to a halt as she shook her head at the spectacle.

  “Sure and it’s a lovely kiss,” Mr. Murphy said.

  “Such a great k
iss, I think it makes me want to dance,” Gracie said.. Hooking arms with Fi, she pulled her into the mix as they all began to boogie their way down the high street.

  It was a vision the town talked about for years – the day traffic came to a halt as the magickal women of Grace’s Cove took to the streets and, for a moment, time stopped as the women danced their hearts out.

  Chapter 17

  “I had no idea you could kick so high. And in that dress,” Keelin laughed at Margaret as they all piled into Aislinn’s backyard. The scavenger hunt was complete, and much to everyone’s delight, Fi declared them all winners. Grace’s Cove had ground to a halt as the women terrorized it in their ridiculous bridal gowns, and Fi was certain the pictures would haunt them for years.

  “I still have some moves, I’ll have you know,” Margaret said, doing a sassy little cha-cha-cha step as she made her way to where Fi had set up round two of the party.

  “What’s your plan now, Fi? We all sit in a circle and sing songs?” Gracie giggled.

  Fi had laid out a large picnic blanket in Aislinn’s garden, and set cushions in a circle. Fairy lights twinkled in ropes above them – thankfully, no rain had ruined their outdoor excursions yet. Fi doubted that even the elements would dare to betray Gracie on one of her big days.

  “Something like that,” Fi said, stopping to pick up a small package she’d placed on the table. “Everyone, pick a cushion and settle in.” The women, still laughing from their exploits, dropped to the cushions in relief.

  “There’s an extra cushion,” Kira said, pointing.

  “That’s Fiona’s cushion,” Fi explained. She could just see her presence outlined there, wavering – but her color was pure and everyone knew she was near.

  “Now, to the serious portion of our night,” Fi said.

  “Uh oh. I don’t have to be walking through fire and the like, do I?”

  “No, that’s for the fun portion of the night,” Fi teased, and Grace grinned at her.

  “In all seriousness – and because I know this will matter to you, Gracie – all of us have come together to give you a gift that we hope you know holds all of our love for you.”