A Wedding at O'Mara's (The Guesthouse on the Green Book 6)

by Michelle Vernal

  ‘Bling, darling,’ Cormac elaborated for her before turning to Quinn. ‘You don’t have to be a psychiatrist to work out that her compulsive spending was a reaction to the anxiety she was feeling. I’ve seen it time and time again on Rodeo Drive where my boutique is. Women throwing the cash around to try to make their problems go away.’

  Quinn nodded. He got it, he did, but what he didn’t get was why she hadn’t trusted him. He put voice to this.

  Aisling dug her nails into her palms and her voice was tinny. ‘I do trust you. It’s me I didn’t trust.’

  Quinn looked bewildered but didn’t get a chance to probe further because Cormac was pointing at him. ‘You’re on.’

  ‘Um,’ Quinn hesitated.

  ‘Come on, you’re a chef, you should be good at expressing your feelings.’

  He found the right words. ‘I never wanted a big wedding, Aisling, but I didn’t want to upset you because you were a force to be reckoned with. You’d ask my opinion but I could see you didn’t want it, you wanted me to agree with whatever you were suggesting. All I wanted was to say our vows, me and you in front of our family and friends. Then celebrate with a party at the restaurant. Simple.’ He gave a shrug as though he still couldn’t believe how hard it had all gotten.

  There was truth in his words. Aisling knew it had been her way or the highway. Her face felt hot and not because of the spots, they’d finally disappeared, but because she’d been so unfair. ‘I’m sorry, Quinn.’

  Cormac looked at Aisling and then at Quinn. They both looked to him wondering what he’d say next. ‘Do you love, Aisling, Quinn?’

  ‘Of course, I do.’

  Aisling’s eyes welled and a plump tear formed on her lower lashes.

  Cormac nodded – this was going exactly how he’d planned. ‘And, Aisling, do you love Quinn?’

  ‘More than anything.’ The tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘Do you remember the Beatles?’ Cormac asked.

  This was getting weird, Quinn thought. ‘Yeah, who doesn’t?’

  Aisling agreed with his sentiment.

  ‘Well as Paul sang, all you need is love.’

  Aisling and Quinn locked eyes. It was Quinn who spoke first. ‘Shall we start again?’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  Quinn reached over and brushed the tear from Aisling’s cheek. Cormac cleared his throat and got up from his seat. Humming the classic Beatles tune, he decided his work was done. It was time to leave them to it and he wouldn’t mind another slice of that brownie either.

  Chapter 35

  Noreen’s case lay open on her bed and she folded the last of the necessities she’d need for her stay in Dublin, placing them carefully around the vase she’d bought for Aisling and Quinn. It was well padded and she’d be sure to tell Terry not to be throwing her case around when he put it in the boot. He and Rosamunde would be here shortly to pick her up. She’d hang her outfit from the handle about the window in the back of the car. She checked her watch again wishing the hands would turn faster. It was still a good twenty minutes until they were due to collect her and she was unable to settle, thanks to the nervous excitement about what lay in store these next few days. Emer, she’d gleaned from Rosamunde, was living an hour out of Dublin and planned on meeting her mammy, daddy, and the rest of her siblings, who were also spread far and wide these days, at the church. Sadly, her marriage had broken down this last year and as such she’d be attending on her own. She wasn’t bringing her children either who were nearly adults now and had no interest in attending the wedding of a sort of cousin they barely knew.

  The thought of Emer’s children nearly grown up was a reminder of the lost years and Noreen pushed those rogue thoughts away. The past couldn’t be changed; it was what lay ahead that mattered.

  Chapter 35

  The day of the wedding

  Uncle Cormac was indeed her fairy godmother, Aisling thought, admiring the way the tiny crystals on the bodice of her dress sparkled under the light. She felt like a princess. He’d insisted on footing the bill for hers and her bridesmaids’ dresses. ‘Aisling,’ he’d said bossily, ‘I have dedicated my life to fashion and a girl should have the dress of her dreams on her wedding day but a pumpkin carriage,’ he’d shaken his head, ‘she does not need.’

  ‘You’ve got my something borrowed?’ Roisin checked, and Aisling dutifully lifted the heavy fabric of her gown to display the garter belt her eldest sister had worn at her own wedding. Roisin grinned, ‘I hope it brings you the sort of wedding night I had.’

  Aisling wrinkled her nose at the thought of Colin and Rosi doing the deed. She knew they had to have done so at least once or they wouldn’t have had Noah but still she preferred to think her nephew had been an immaculate conception.

  ‘He was many things, my ex-husband—’ Roisin continued.

  ‘A chinless feck for one,’ Moira piped up.

  Roisin ignored her, ‘But in those early days believe it or not, he was quite the ride.’

  There was a collective gagging sound from Moira and Aisling.

  ‘What are you on about?’ Mammy bustled over. She’d been practising her mysterious mammy-of-the-bride look as she peered out from under the hat sitting heavy on her head thanks to the weight of all those feathers. If she were to venture into rural Ireland she’d be in danger of being pecked at by hens, Moira had said upon seeing it.

  Feathers aside, Aisling thought, giving her mammy the once-over, she did look beautiful and she had a spring in her step of late that made Aisling wonder about this man friend of hers. When she got back from her honeymoon, she’d sit down with her and make her talk. The offer of tea and a bun at Bewley’s should do the trick. Adrenalin ricocheted through her. She’d be a married woman by then, she’d be Mrs Aisling O’Mara-Moran sitting down having a very adult conversation about relationships with her mammy.

  ‘I’ve given her the something blue,’ Moira chirped up.

  Aisling had been touched that, despite her sister’s constant referencing of her student poverty, she’d splashed out what funds she had on a pearl studded, pale blue hair slide, fixing it in her sister’s hair herself. She’d stood back admiring her handiwork. Aisling had decided not to ask her if she’d splurged her bookkeeping earnings to buy the barrette. The odds had been on her winning the great weight loss race and she hadn’t disappointed. Moira, as such, was in the money. Bronagh’s sulk had only lasted a day, by the end of which they were all sick to the back teeth of hearing how Aisling had had an unfair advantage because she wasn’t suffering the ravages of the menopause.

  The gift that had brought tears to her eyes along with shrieks from Moira that she was not to cry or her mascara would run, was from Maeve. It finally felt right to call Quinn’s mammy by her name. She’d knocked on the door to the family apartment at the guesthouse earlier that morning having made the journey especially so she could present Aisling with a delicate gold chain with a single pearl set in a daisy filigree of white gold. ‘It was my mammy’s, Aisling,’ she’d said. ‘I wore it when I married Quinn’s dad and I want you to have it now.’

  Aisling knew it was her way of welcoming her into the family and she was touched. She was also relieved her hat wasn’t bigger than Mammy’s or there’d have been ructions.

  Leila was making the rounds of the living room checking over her charges. She had been a superstar these last two days dealing with all the cancellations. With a smile of satisfaction on her face, Leila announced. ‘Well, I think we have time for a glass of bubbles before Ned arrives.’

  ‘Mummy, can I have bubbles?’ Noah beseeched Roisin. He was bored of all the primping and fussing.

  ‘No, you can’t. Bubbles aren’t for children.’

  ‘Ah sure, a tiny sip won’t hurt him, Roisin,’ Maureen bossed. Her grandson was back in her good books after yesterday’s misdemeanour. She’d been mortified when she’d introduced him to Cormac and he’d asked if he had a gerbil on top of his head. Cormac had not been amused.

&nbs
p; Leila popped the cork and did the honours, passing out the flutes.

  ‘Thanks for this, Leila.’ Moira said, raising her sparkling grape juice.

  ‘You’re a bad influence, Mammy,’ Roisin said, seeing mammy give her grandson a tiny taste.

  Aisling held up her glass, clearing her throat. ‘You all look so beautiful, and Noah you’re very handsome. I’m so blessed to have you in my life and thanks so much for putting up with me these last few weeks.’

  There was a collective murmuring and Aisling picked up on Moira saying that, yes, she had been a pain in the arse but they all loved her.

  She took a sip of the golden liquid, feeling giddy with happiness as the bubbles pinged in her mouth. A few mouthfuls later, the phone rang and Roisin answered it, announcing that Ned was waiting for them downstairs. Mammy led the charge.

  ‘Mammy, don’t you be doing that that thing you’re after doing with your hat, or you’ll trip going down the stairs,’ Roisin ordered, following behind her, a firm hold on her son’s hand lest he have any thought about racing off to drag Mr Nibbles along with them. The thought of the gerbil getting loose in St Theresa’s made her skin prickle.

  They burst out the doors of O’Mara’s to where Ned was holding the door of the limousine open for them. The blonde one had convinced him to do a cut price church run. It was a first, he thought, wondering how the mammy one was going to get in the back with that rooster on her head.

  Chapter 36

  ‘To Mr and Mrs Moran!’

  Mercifully her brother-in-law had finished his long-winded speech although Aisling thought, she needed him to make a tiny correction. She tapped him on the arm before he sat down. He leaned over to listen to what she had to say before straightening and clearing his throat.

  ‘Excuse me but that should have been to Mr Moran and Mrs O’Mara-Moran.’

  ‘To Mr Moran and Mrs O’Mara-Moran.’ Glasses were raised.

  Maureen’s eyes prickled at the thought of how proud Brian would have been of his middle daughter today. Cormac did you proud in more ways than one she told him silently, reaching for Cormac’s hand under the table and giving it a squeeze. He returned it. She blinked those rogue tears away. Today was a happy day and as such she turned her attention instead to the bistro. There were no fancy table arrangements, although they had followed her seating plan. Dinner had been the house speciality here at Quinn’s, bangers ‘n’ mash. Paula was doing a superb job of keeping the wine flowing she saw, watching the girl scurry from table to table. Too much of a good job given how some were imbibing – her heathen brothers for starters. She gave Frankie and Brendan a hard stare and they put their glasses down. Her other brother, Colm, was in danger of a frozen neck. He hadn’t moved from his position, inches away from Cindy’s cleavage, for fear of missing something, since he’d sat down. She’d have words with him later if Patrick didn’t sort him out before then. Her son was glowering at his uncle. At least Roisin, Moira and Leila would be happy. Cindy’s bosoms had taken the onus off them.

  There was no compère. but Shay and his band were going to play shortly and were setting up on the stage now. It had all gone very well, she thought, sitting back in her chair feeling satisfied with how the day had panned out. She heard Aisling’s laughter peeling across the room and she looked across at her radiant daughter. There was no doubt she was having the best day of her life. Quinn was no longer at her side and she assumed he’d gone to mingle. A finer son-in-law she couldn’t have wished for and Maureen knew if she’d been given the chance to handpick the man Aisling would marry it would be him. Brian would have too.

  A foreign beat flared up making her and most of the other guests jump. She saw Aisling’s eyes widen, her hand fly to her mouth. Maureen swivelled her head to follow Aisling’s gaze to the area in front of the stage. Holy mother of Jaysus, there was Quinn spotlighted doing some fancy footwork as he quickstepped across the floor to the cha-cha-cha rhythm his face a study of concentration. He paused to gesture for Aisling to join him and Maureen held her breath, not knowing how she’d manage to do whatever it was she was about to do on the dance floor weighted down by that dress of hers.

  Aisling didn’t know either but she knew she’d do her best because it didn’t matter one iota if she cocked up. She had Quinn and that was all that mattered.

  NOREEN AND EMER WERE sitting next to each other, relaxed and content in each other’s company as the evening moved away from dinner and into the dancing. The table in front of them had long since been cleared, leaving a cluster of drinks – some full, some dregs. She was thin, Noreen thought, soaking up the sight of her niece in her turquoise dress as she sat engrossed in the band. She’d a pinched look about her that time and an unhappy marriage had wrought. No doubt she’d found her aunt much changed too, she mused. Despite the obvious etchings of age, she’d always see that little girl so eager to help her and Malachy in the shop when she looked at her though.

  Emer felt her gaze on her and turned slightly in her chair. She smiled at her aunt and took her hand in hers giving it a squeeze. Noreen squeezed back. A burden had been lifted from her shoulders tonight. Weddings were about new beginnings and the loneliness she’d felt since Malachy’s passing had eased at the knowledge their niece was back in her life.

  ‘Shall we have a dance, Aunty Nono?’

  Noreen was quite sure she’d be able to dance the night away so light did she feel. ‘In a minute, Emer. I promised Cormac the first dance.’

  Emer gave her another smile and turned her attention back to the band, her toes tapping to the Irish beat. She too felt light, and freer than she had in a good long while. Life hadn’t been kind to her since her husband had left and as for their children, well, they were selfish mares the lot of them. All too caught up in their own lives to spare a thought for their poor mammy, left on her own struggling to make ends meet. She’d be alright now though. Aunty Nono had a tidy nest egg, and sure she was entitled to a generous helping of it, who else would she leave it to?

  The End

  Hi! I hope this latest instalment in The Guesthouse on the Green series made you smile, or even better laugh out loud. If you enjoyed Aisling’s journey to the aisle then leaving a short review on Amazon to say so would be wonderful and so appreciated. You can keep up to date with news regarding this series via my newsletter (I promise not to bombard you!) by subscribing here: http://tiny.cc/0r27az

  To say thanks, you receive an exclusive O’Mara women character profile.

  Book 7, The Guesthouse on the Green Series

  Maureen’s Song

  Release date: 11 May, 2020

  Pre-Order here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=B084H6XK96

  Sometimes life is like a country and western song...

  Maureen O’Mara’s had a lot of changes these last few years. She lost her beloved husband, Brian, had a fresh start by the seaside away from the family guesthouse and took up numerous new hobbies, the most recent being line dancing. She’s ready to make one more big change too because she’s met a man. Not just any man either. A man who makes her smile, has her humming country music tunes and tapping her toes to the beat. He’s also someone who understands the pain of losing a spouse.

  Maureen would like to keep things as they are but he’s making noises about introducing her to his family and she can’t put him off forever. He wants to meet her girls too but what happens when your children have their late parent on a pedestal? And what will the O’Mara girls have to say when they find out about their mammy’s new manfriend’s interesting erm, hobby?

  Find out in Maureen’s Song.

 

 

 
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