Shamrocks and Secrets (17 page)

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Authors: Cayce Poponea

BOOK: Shamrocks and Secrets
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I expected to hear from Patrick at some point during his trip, but it had been four days without a word and I started to worry a little. I remembered how my dad had seemed to know a little more than he let on so I called him.


Hey, Dad.


Hey, Christi. Missing Patrick?

he chuckled.


Al
l right, Dad, cut the shit and tell me what you know.

He laughed even harder.

Well, it seems the apple doesn

t fall far from the tree, you

re just as questioning as I am. You should have become a detective like your old man.


Whatever, Dad, what do you know. Why haven

t I heard from him?


Sorry, Sweetheart, the only thing I can tell you is that he

s in Ireland and he
should
be back in a few days.


I don

t like the way you say should, what aren

t you tell me?


Oh, I

m not telling you plenty, you

ll have to wait and hear it from Patrick.

Men

such useless creatures

ugh!

More days passed and still no word from Patrick. Thankfully, I had my sister

s wedding to help plan, as well as Paige

s. I had bigger worries on my mind, though. What do I get Patrick for his birthday? What did you get the man who owned nearly the entire town? He could buy anything he wanted, and then it hit me, the one thing he couldn

t buy. I giggled as I began to put my idea into action.

Dinner was to be at Thomas and Nora

s, family only, a very small affair. Most people would think that was maybe ten to fifteen people, but most people would be wrong. We are Irish after all.

There had to be at least sixty people sitting around three huge tables that were arranged in a horseshoe design. Everyone had a drink in their hand and was laughing and enjoying themselves. I scanned the room, but I didn

t find the guest of honor.


He isn

t here,

a voice sounded in my ear.

I turned to my left and found Thomas standing with a martini glass in one hand and a beer in the other.

I chuckled as I questioned,

Are we double-fisting it tonight?

He laughed and then handed me the martini glass.

Patrick said this was your favorite and I swore I

d make certain you had one the minute you got here.

I took a drink and then smiled at him,

Thank you.


Absolutely, let me introduce you to a few people.


A few? Thomas, we have
got
to work on your definitions.

I met so many uncles, aunts, first and second cousins, that I was certain I would never remember everyone

s name. Everyone, and I mean everyone, already knew everything about me.

I was well into my third martini when I had just about decided he wasn

t going to show. Something had to have happened in Ireland. Maybe his plane had been delayed, or he had decided to celebrate in Ireland.

As I began to take the final sip of my martini before telling everyone goodnight, the front door opened and in walked a very gruff-looking Patrick.

Whenever I had ever seen Patrick, he had always been well-groomed and dressed impeccably and always in tailor-made clothing. His hair now looked as if he hadn

t washed it all week, and his jeans were torn in several places. I finally noticed how quiet the room became as Patrick got closer to me. I found it odd that none of the men were greeting him. I took a look around the room to find that everyone had formed a circle around us.


Uh, Patrick?

My voice shaky as I turned again to look around the room.


Mo ghra.

(My love.)


What

s going on? Is everything okay?

I was getting nervous. I hadn

t seen him in a while and honestly, his current appearance was unsettling.


Na biodh eagla ort, le do thoil, beidh me ag insint duit goch rud

(Don

t be afraid, please, I will tell you everything.)

His voice was so calming and I watched as he motioned for me to come closer to him.


Christi, do you remember the story I told you about the promise my great-grandfather made to my great-grandmother?

I could only nod my head as I turned once again to scan the room. It was then I noticed my sister and my father standing beside Thomas and Nora. My father

s arms were crossed and he had a look of pure joy across his face.


Sweetheart, in my family, the men continue that tradition when they decide to marry. We go through a rite of passage if we want to prove to our elders that we

re indeed ready for that step.

I couldn

t speak. Here stood the man I had tried so hard to push away, telling myself and everyone who would listen that I could never be what he needed. And here he was telling me he had been proving to his family that he was good enough for me.


I

ve spent the past week in the hills surrounding the very village where they grew up and fell in love. I cannot tell you what I

ve had to endure, as that

s a secret I

ll pass on to our sons.

I noticed my father chuckle at Patrick

s words and Nora kissed Thomas

s cheek.


That first night I saw you, I watched you move around the room and I couldn

t take my eyes off you. You had me spellbound from that moment on. You had such confidence and I just knew my father had been right when he said you were perfect.

My eyes then shot directly to Thomas, he simply smiled, and then shrugged his shoulders.


Then you confirmed my opinion, when you showed up in my office and stood your ground.

I blushed at the memory, not one of my better decisions.

But in the end, even knowing who and what I am, you gave me a chance and you let me show you who I could be. And even after you agreed to wear my necklace, you showed grace and courage, and you even called me out when I was acting like an idiot.

I watched as Patrick reached into his jeans pocket and removed a piece of lace cloth. As he unwrapped it, I noticed an appliqu
é
of vines and letters. It was too small for me to make out from where I stood. He then held what looked like a green string.


I told you he gave her a shamrock when he left her and came to America.

He placed the lace on the table beside him.

I have a shamrock from the very same hill where he stood and promised to return to her.

I watched his fingers shake as he came closer to where I stood. His eyes locked with mine as he slowly lowered himself to one knee.


Christi, I

ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. You

ve made me want to be a better and stronger, and I swear to you that if you

ll grant me this one wish, on my birthday, I

ll die a happy man.
A bheidh tu posadh liom?

(Will you marry me?)

I could hear myself gasp as I looked into his deep green eyes. I looked to his outstretched hand that held the tiny shamrock.


Yes,

I heard myself answer as I felt the tears run down my face.

Patrick began to tie the end of the shamrock around my ring finger as the room was once again loud with laughter and applause.

I was quickly surrounded by the women of the room and engulfed in tight hugs. Patrick was quick to interrupt as he placed his dirty hands on my face and looked longingly into my eyes. He slowly leaned in and placed a soft kiss to my lips.


Christi, as I was sitting in the middle of the shamrocks on the hill, I was asking myself over and over if I was really good enough for you. Then I looked down and I saw this. I think it was a sign.

His left hand was open flat and in the center of his palm was a very old, very distressed three-pence piece. I could barely make out the jack rabbit that sat in the center. I remembered seeing coins like this at my grandmother

s house.


I read somewhere that Irish brides carried a penny in their shoe on their wedding day. Since you

ve already said yes, I

d love for you to wear this as you walk down the aisle.

Tears were flowing down my face. Patrick was my home and my heart, my every wish come true.


Patrick, of all the things you

ve given me, this is the one I

ll treasure the most. This is priceless.

He gently kissed my forehead,

I

d hoped you would.

I raised my face to meet his, our eyes locked as well as our hearts,

As will our daughters.

We both smiled at that.


I

m going to shower for the first time in a week, then I

ll come back, and put your real engagement ring on your finger.

I didn

t have time to say anything as he dashed out of the room.


Here, Christi, this is to keep that shamrock in.

Nora then passed me the piece of lace that Patrick had placed on the table. I took a closer look and found it was a beautiful handkerchief. The green vines I had seen were dainty little shamrocks that surrounded the initial

M

embroidered into the lace.


Her name was Christie, also. The villagers told her he would never return,

Nora spoke into my ear.

She worked as a lace maker and when he gave her the shamrock, she made this to keep it in. It

s now for you to keep and pass on to your sons.

I looked at the vine that was now wrapped around my ring finger. I could only imagine what it was like for her to wait for a man to make good on his promise while you heard negativity from all those around you.


I wish that it wouldn

t wilt, I

d rather have this, than all the diamonds in the world.


Shush now, or he

ll have a grove of these made so that he can get a fresh one daily. You hang on to it as I have mine. But, Lass, take the diamond he chose for you.

I laughed along with her as she placed the lace in my hand. I would treasure it forever, and if I was lucky enough to be blessed with sons, I would carry on the tradition.

Quicker than I thought possible, Patrick was back and tugging me away from his aunts.


Are they trying to discourage you as their ancestors did for my great-grandmother?

I sighed as I slid into his arms. I missed him so much and the feel and smell of my Patrick just made everything better.


Nothing they could say could change how I feel about you.


Well, I

m glad to hear that since I have this insanely beautiful ring I want to get on your finger.

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