Becoming the Whiskey Princess (35 page)

“Yeah, so? Go this weekend. We can go dress shopping when you get back. I look good in anything.”

I scoff as I nod, but then my grin falls. “I really don’t want to leave Declan behind though. He might think I’m leaving him or something.”

She laughs. “Well, tell him of course, but also, how ya gonna say you don’t want to leave him, but you come over here unsure if ya should marry him?”

I shake my head as I laugh. “I love him and maybe I’m blinded by that. That’s why I would change.”

With a deadpan look, she asks, “That’s dumb. Ya haven’t changed yet, why ya going to later?”

She does have a point.

Standing up, I grab my bag and lean to her, kissing her forehead. “Thank you.”

She smacks my ass playfully. “Anytime. Call me when ya get back so we can go shopping.”

“I will,” I say, opening the door. Declan and Kane look up from where they are drinking beers against his car.

“Hey there, ya get yer head out yer arse?” Kane calls to me, and Declan smacks his chest.

“Shut up, Kane,” I say as I walk toward them.

“Well, here’s to hoping, yeah?” Kane says, smacking his shoulder, but then he pauses, whispering something before he turns to head toward the apartment. When he reaches me though, he leans into me, giving me a side hug and then whispering, “He’s really hurting over this, Amberlyn. Don’t go over there saying
Fiona
helped you to realize yer outta ya Godforsaken mind thinking he would change ya ’cause he’d never do no such thing. His ma is off her rocker too. Don’t listen to a word from her. He loves ya, okay? Let him help you realize this. All he wants is for ya to be happy. Okay, lass?”

Looking up into his dark eyes, I smile. He loves his friend so much, and maybe I was completely out of my mind for thinking Declan would do anything but love me completely. Hoping to convey that to him, I nod my head before saying, “You smell like death, Kane.”

Giving me a lopsided grin, he nods. “I know, see ya.”

“See ya,” I say, and then my gaze meets Declan’s. Leaning against the car in all his sexy glory, he holds his beer by the neck of the bottle, his eyes trained on me. Sucking in a breath, I head toward him and his eyes don’t leave mine as I stop before him. Neither of us says anything for a moment, both of us searching each other’s eyes as we stand in the last light of the day.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Hey.”

“Howya,” he says, taking a pull of his beer. “That didn’t take long. Only two beers.”

I nod as I look down, kicking the dirt. I hate feeling like this. I just want to go back to us. Before all this. I’ve messed everything up, and I feel that the root of the problem is my grief. I’m so scared to lose the person my parents molded me into that I’ll believe anything that could threaten that.

“So?”

I look up, biting my lip. “I want to go back home for a visit. I miss my mom and dad a lot.”

He nods his head. “Before or after the wedding?”

“Before.”

He looks down, swinging the bottle at his side. “When?”

“This weekend.”

Looking up at me, he holds my gaze. “I’ll make it happen.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I just wanted to let you know where I was going.”

“I want too. I’ll have our jet take ya.”

Surprised, I ask, “You have a jet?”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod.

“That’s cool, I guess.”

“Eh, being O’Callaghan has its perks. Today though, no perks. Just a shitestorm.”

I smile as I look back down, wringing my hands together. He then asks, “Are ya coming home?”

I meet his gaze and shrug. “If you want me to.”

“Of course I do,” he says, reaching for me and wrapping his arms tightly around me. Nuzzling my neck, he kisses it as his fingers dance along my ribs. I can smell the beer on his breath and it reminds me of the pub. Of the first few days here when I was a crying heap of sadness. He helped me out of that, but yet, I’m trying to push him away.

Why? What is wrong with me?

“I want to go with ya and meet yer parents, Amberlyn.”

Cuddling my nose in the crook of his neck, I feel how hot his skin is underneath my lips as my tears splash against his face. I want that more than anything, I do, but I really don’t understand how he still wants to be around me after all the hell I’ve caused. Whispering still, he says, “I also don’t want to be away from ya a second longer.”

Kissing his neck, I nod my head. “I don’t want that either.”

“So we’ll go together?”

Pulling back, I met his gaze as my eyes drip with tears. “I would like that.”

I
can barely see the two tombstones that sit before me.

My eyes are full of tears and my lip starts to wobble as my heart pounds in my chest. There are flowers all over both their graves, and I wonder if my uncle had something to do with this. I spent most of the morning at my old family home, packing and going through my parents’ things and also the things I left behind. It was hard, but I was happy with what I kept.

Which was almost everything.

Declan has been very sweet, saying that we’d “find a place for it” whenever I asked if I could have it shipped back home. He has been a saint since we left Fiona’s. I assumed we would leave that Friday, but he had us on the jet this morning with arrangements for us at a hotel with the promise that we could stay as long as I wanted. When I told him that I wanted to have stuff shipped, he had a moving company at the house within an hour. I’m not sure how my uncle feels about it all, but then, he is getting my house at a steal of a price, so he will be okay.

My only complaint so far is that we haven’t talked much. It’s been very simple yes-and-no questions. It’s weird and I don’t like it, but then I think that maybe he is giving me space to think. I never did tell him that we were good, but then he never asked. All he’s really been doing is talking on his phone or checking emails. Even when I was going through everything, he was on his phone. I don’t know if it’s his way of letting me be or what. I know he still cares and loves me—he’s done nothing but show that since we left—I just wish he’d get off his phone. But then I feel like an asshole because he’s missing work to be here with me. We are not there to do last-minute planning for the wedding because I wanted to come home. He won’t even answer his mom’s calls. He’s shutting down on me, on everyone, and it’s all my fault.

He brought me here to see my mom and dad. Here I am, and I have no clue what to do or even how to move.

Seeing their names on the tombstones is so very real. I am used to seeing my dad’s name. There wasn’t one Wednesday or Sunday a month that we didn’t come to clean off his grave and set new flowers out. The flowers that lie on their graves now are gorgeous, and I’m surprised that someone took the time to put them there. Especially if it was my uncle since he hated my dad. My mom always said that he thought my dad was bad news, but he was completely wrong.

My dad was a great man.

Looking at his grave, I swallow my sob as I read the words that will be etched in my brain for the rest of my existence.

Tomas Albert Reilly

7-2-1970 to 9-23-2007

His soul to Amberlyn.

His heart to Ciara.

“Wow, that is beautiful,” Declan says from beside me, and I look back at him, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand.

Glancing back at the stone, I close my eyes, wanting to hear him say it to me. But I don’t hear anything. Nothing, except my sobs. Whispering, I say, “He always said that to us. That my mom had his heart and I had his soul. I was the one who told her to put it on his tombstone.”

Lacing his fingers with mine, he brings my hand up to his lips, kissing it softly as he cocks his head to my mom’s. “I think that’s my favorite though.”

Glancing at my mom’s stone, I fully expect to lose my mind crying, but I don’t.

I smile.

Ciara Lynn Reilly

5-16-1970 to 5-25-2014

The heart of Tomas.

The best mom in the whole entire world to Amberlyn.

Reading the words on the tombstone, my tears start to fall faster, but my grin remains. I’m drawing strength from Declan as he moves my hand into his other, while his hand moves up and down my back. Kissing my temple, he whispers, “That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. When I die, do something like that for me, yes?”

I shake my head, closing my eyes as I lean into him. “Please don’t leave me first. I couldn’t do it.”

“Neither could I,” he says. “So let’s wait till we’re old and gray, yeah, and die together.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say, even though I know that is the silliest thing we could ever plan for. Life is the most uncertain thing in the world. One day things are great, next day they aren’t. One day you’re alive, the next you’re dead. There is no promise for the next breath. It can be taken from you in a blink of an eye. There is no guarantee.

But in this moment, maybe I can hope that Declan and I will go together.

Content and ready.

Kissing me again, he says, “Ya gonna say hi to them? Wanna put the flowers down?”

I nod silently as I walk closer, dropping to my knees as I crawl onto their graves. I know that it’s silly, but I feel closer doing this. I used to lie on my dad, so did my mom. We’d lie for hours the first year of his death; it’s morbid and silly, but it was comforting to us. And it is now.

To my surprise though, Declan drops to his knees beside me and we go to work, brushing off the little bits of leaves and other debris that has gotten on their graves. Since the flowers are fresh, we leave them but add in mine, making the front of their graves so bright and vibrant.

The day is dreary. It’s about to get supercold here, but that didn’t stop me from getting bright pink and blue flowers for my mom and orange ones for my dad. When I was younger, they were the ones we brought my dad. My mom used to say that it would make him laugh to know we girlied up his grave. It always made me happy then, and it doesn’t fail to do it again.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” I say as I wipe away some bird poop on my mom’s grave with the rag I brought just for that. “Came to visit. Sorry, I didn’t come sooner. As you both know, I’ve moved to Ireland like you wanted, Mom.” My voice breaks a bit, and I swallow my sob as I go to clean my dad’s. As I scrub, I blink back my tears as Declan’s hand rests on the middle of my back. “Things are great. I’m going to school, I work for Shelia, and I met someone. His name is Declan. He’s here too.” I swallow around the lump in my throat as I continue to scrub. “I love him so damn much and things are moving fast, but we are getting married in two weeks,” I say as his hand comes up into my hair, cupping my neck. “I’m happy, he makes me happy, but I do miss you guys. So much.”