“I… I honestly was not expecting this to look this good,” Fi admitted, running a finger over the bodice. “It’s really not my style.”
“Are these for a hen party?”
“They are. I thought it would be fun if we all dressed up a little ridiculous in dresses that maybe we wouldn’t choose for ourselves.” There, she was being honest without insulting the woman’s entire stock.
“This dress does not look ridiculous on you. However, I bet I can make it so. Give me a moment.” Turning, the woman bustled away, and Fi appreciated the fact that she was more interested in making a sale than in what the gowns were being used for. In a moment, the woman returned, her arms piled full with mounds of tulle and lace in a variety of colors.
“A veil,” Fi said, and laughed when the woman plucked the gaudiest one from the top and placed it on her head. They both stared at the mirror, and nodded together.
“Now it is ridiculous. But, I will say: When you marry, look for a dress in this cut. The shape” – the clerk kissed her fingers – “it is meant for you.”
“That’s a long way out yet,” Fi promised her, though she caught herself staring in the mirror, admiring her body in the dress.
“One never knows. Like a lightning strike, love can scorch your heart in an instant.”
Chapter 5
Gallagher’s Pub wasn’t open yet, but those who knew Cait well enough knew that the door was always unlocked in the mornings. Fi paused outside, admiring the new paint job on the shutters and trim that lined the pub’s tall narrow windows. Where the pub had once been green and red, now Cait had chosen a cheerful blue with a brilliant gold trim. Fi approved.
“I see the pub’s gotten herself a fancy new dress,” Fi called as she pushed the door open. Cait’s head popped up from behind the bar and for a moment, Fi’s heart squeezed. She’d seen her mum behind the long expanse of burnished wood more times than she could ever count. Gallagher’s Pub was Cait, and in all her travels Fi had never found another pub that hit all the right notes like this one did. Perhaps she wasn’t objective, as it was her family’s pub, but that was neither here nor there as far as Fi was concerned.
“You’re early!” Cait exclaimed, ducking under the passthrough and racing across the room to throw her arms around Fi. They matched each other in height and build, and rocked back and forth in an enthusiastic hug like two maddened pixies.
“I am at that,” Fi agreed. “I finished up work a few days early and now my schedule is clear for weeks.” She pulled back to study her mum’s face. Perhaps a new wrinkle or two around the eyes, but Cait looked as beautiful as ever – if not more so – as she aged. Fi had always admired her mother, not only for her strong backbone and quicksilver mind, but how she’d never let her beauty get in the way of what she wanted. Over the years, Fi had watched many a woman stumble over obsession with their looks, often not realizing they had so much more to offer the world. Perhaps it was the careless way Cait carried herself, as if to say, ‘Sure, I’m lovely to look at, but have you read the latest news reports?’ Her mum had a wide grasp of knowledge on a dizzying array of subjects, and ran her business with a steel-minded ferocity. Beauty was appreciated, but business acumen was revered. It was a trait that kept Fi on track as a solo entrepreneur.
“We get you for weeks! That’s fantastic. Your father has a surprise for you too.” Cait turned and whistled sharply over her shoulder, and Fi bit back a grin. It was the same whistle she’d heard for years and it could mean a variety of things, from “It’s time to come home for dinner” to “Stop fighting in my pub.”
“Oh, is it the long-lost daughter of mine?” Shane said, swinging through the two doors enclosing the kitchen.
“Da!” Fi laughed and embraced him, inhaling the scents of spice and Guinness that meant he was putting a stew together in the back.
“You’ve lost weight,” Shane decided, having pulled back to examine his daughter.
“Impossible. Not in Italy, at least.” Fi shrugged off his concerns.
“I’ve a lovely Guinness stew brewing. You’ll have some,” Shane ordered.
Fi rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Mum is letting you in the kitchen these days. Don’t you have enough to do with all your properties?”
“We’ve hired a property manager. It’s taken a load of work off, I’ll admit it,” Shane said as they walked toward the bar. The bar was the focal point of Gallagher’s Pub, its wood shined to perfection and worn from years of use and love. Behind the bar, bottles lined the wall on glass shelves, and a mirror reflected the restaurant back. Cait had insisted on the mirror so she could keep an eye on her customers at all times. Spreading back from the bar was a long room with cozy nooks and booths, all set up so people could cluster together in private or pull tables together for a night of music. More often than not, people would wander in with their instruments and take up residence in a booth, playing a lively tune for the crowd that inevitably gathered. None of this was ever planned, and there was no schedule posted proclaiming live music. It was just an accepted fact that music was always welcome at Gallagher’s, and Cait had left the musicians to sort the details out themselves.
“And put the man right under me feet all day,” Cait griped, popping under the passthrough and coming to stand behind the bar. “Tea?”
“Perfect, thanks,” Fi said, settling onto a stool and putting her purse on the bar. There was just something about a pot of Irish tea. She always missed it on her travels.
“You like having me around,” Shane argued. “Just look at all the projects I’ve finished for you.”
“I will admit, it has been nice to get a few things fixed here and there. But you’re here all the time now.”
“And you love it. When I wasn’t here, you’d complain about me being too busy.”
“Well, I can’t have you working yourself into an early grave, can I?”
“Some could say the same of you, working here every night.”
Cait waved that away. “’Tis hardly work, is it now? Just pulling a pint or two.”
“You’re still on your feet long hours.”
“Which is good for me health.”
“You owe me a holiday. An extended one.”
It was always the same with them, Fi thought, smiling as she added a dollop of milk to her tea. They’d bicker back and forth like this for hours if she didn’t intervene.
“A holiday sounds lovely, Mum. Have you actually considered it? Who would watch the pub?”
“Patrick would be fine to handle things,” Shane pointed out.
“Aye, he would,” Cait agreed, “but where would we go?”
“There’s so many places to see,” Shane said. “What about South America? Or Africa?”
“Could I see elephants?” Cait’s face lit up with excitement. “I must say, I’ve always wanted to see the elephants.”
“You could on a safari. I’ll look into it,” Shane said, pulling out his phone and typing something in.