AFTER FIANNA HAD collected herself upon hearing her mother’s sad announcement about her health, she made her way into the O’Donnell House with Mary Margaret and Davina. Inside, Fianna gazed around. She’d been in the house many times over the years, but now she looked at it with a fresh designer’s eye.
The large Georgian-era home had cherry red walls and dark polished wood floors over which hand-woven rugs were arranged. Flowers graced the entry and living room, and in the dining room an extended cherrywood dining room table was set with vintage Waterford crystal and china that Fianna knew had been in the family for generations. The sweet spring scent of white lilies permeated the rooms.
“Fianna!” Lizzie rushed to her side and hugged her. “I’m so relieved to see you,” she whispered in her ear.
“How are you doing?” Fianna asked. Davina and Mary Margaret greeted her sister, and then were swept into the welcoming arms of family and friends. She saw Doyle across the room. He waved and smiled—a little too broadly, Fianna thought, for a man who’d just been jilted. Was her mother right? Was he not ready to give up? She sighed in exasperation.
Their families had known one another for centuries and their ties dated back to a lingering feud over horses or land or someone’s wife. So many ancient stories floated around. Who knew what had really happened?
Her father and the O’Donnell clan had met in school and played sports together. They’d become friends and tried to heal the wounds of the past in the family—a task that hadn’t been easy with the older generations. Lizzie and Shane were the first to join the families together. For as long as Fianna could remember, her mother had talked about what a fine match she and Doyle would make, too.
Lizzie nodded toward the staircase. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tell you about what’s happened. Is that my wedding dress?”
“It is.” Fianna whispered back, “Are you still planning on wearing it?”
Without a word, Lizzie clasped her hand and Fianna followed her. On their way, a plain brown-haired woman of about their age stepped in front of them.
“Hello, Lizzie.”
“Hi, Brona.” Lizzie turned to Fianna. “Have you two met?”
Fianna remembered the woman from the bar. She’d called her a bitch. “Not by choice.” She gave her a tight smile.
“Brona is Shane’s cousin,” Lizzie explained.
“Cousin by marriage,” Brona said, with words so sharp they could’ve sliced through them.
“I’m sure we’ll see you around later,” Lizzie said.
They hurried away. Fianna whispered, “She’s dreadful. I hate that you have to pretend to be nice to someone like that.”
Lizzie shrugged. “Comes with the territory.” She pushed open a door to a guest bedroom splashed with pink-cabbage-rose wallpaper and decorated with an overstuffed floral headboard and chairs.
Lizzie sank onto the bed, her mint-green lace dress flaring around her, and sighed. “I’ve been talking to Shane.”
A clock next to the bed ticked loudly in the silence. Fianna placed the dress on the arm of a chair and sat beside her. They might never get around to trying on the dress she’d worked on, but Lizzie’s happiness was far more important. “That’s good. Do you want to tell me about it?” Better they talk now about their desires and differences, rather than after the wedding.
“Shane doesn’t want all this,” Lizzie said, waving her hand to indicate the house.
“It’s a responsibility, that’s for sure. Is it what you want?”
“No! What a heavy anchor this is. Actually, I don’t know what I’ll want ten or twenty years from now, but I don’t care about it today. We’re young, and we’ve got time before we think about settling down and having a family. I just need time, Fianna. I need to find out who I am and what I want to spend my life doing. Do you understand that?”
“Of course I do.” Fianna thought about her life, and her mother and Davina, and how the choices they’d made when they were younger had set in motion the course of their lives. “Life goes quickly. Does Shane know what he wants to do?”
“Yes, and there’s the problem.” Lizzie leapt to her feet and paced the room, tossing her wavy blond hair back from her face and pressing the palms of her hands against her temples.
Fianna waited for the story to unfold. She had a feeling this rehearsal dinner was going to take quite a turn.
“Shane doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps in business. He wants to study medicine. He feels a calling to be a doctor.”
“A calling is a noble thing. Would you have a problem with that?”
“The problem is where he wants to do it.”
“Not in Ireland?”
Lizzie slowed her pacing by the window and stared into the distance. “He wants to practice in Africa, or India, or even South America—wherever doctors are needed to administer to the poor to raise those on the lowest rungs of the world’s society.”
Fianna released a slow breath. “I see.”
Lizzie turned back to her. “He says there are already so many children who need attention. Why should we bring more into the world?”
“I can just imagine what his parents will say to that.” The O’Donnell’s were a traditional family, and Shane had been groomed to take over the family business when his father retired. “What do you think, Lizzie? Is that a life you’d want to share?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, twisting a tissue she’d drawn from her pocket.
“That’s honest. Getting married is a life-changing decision, and this new information must be staggering to you.”
“I had no idea Shane was thinking about something like that. Med school, the travel, leaving our families. Would he ever want to have children of our own? And what would I do?”
“It would be awfully daunting. That’s not just a job, it’s a passion. A calling, to use his words. You have to decide if you can share that dream or not.” What would she do in Lizzie’s position? She could hardly fathom it. Falling in love was more than kisses and sex and holidays. It was the building of a life with someone and the sharing of dreams. If one partner’s dreams were fulfilled, but the other one’s were not, could the marriage survive? Was love really enough?
The thought of Niall drifted into her mind. He had a gift, a passion, a calling, too. Should she have been so quick to label him and leave him? She swallowed a lump lodged in her throat. Would the path not taken haunt her forever?
Lizzie sat beside Fianna and rested her head on her shoulder. “I followed your advice, Fianna. We had dinner and wine—okay, a lot of wine—and I asked him what secret desire for his life he harbored in his soul. But now that his dream is out in the open, it changes everything. I love Shane, and the only thing I wish for him is his happiness. He should have a right to do what he wants in his life.”
“We only get one shot at it, that’s for sure. But what about you? You’re my sister, and I want the same for you.”
Lizzie didn’t answer. In the silence, the ticking of the bedside clock grew louder, warning of the need to make a decision soon. Lizzie’s gaze traveled to the dress, resting on the chair. “Do I really need to try on the dress?”
“No.” Fianna held her sister and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s finished, and I’m sure it will fit. You’re free to do whatever you want with it.”
Lizzie raised her face to Fianna’s. “Thank you for understanding. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Niall sat in an old wooden chair with his feet propped on a weathered table and gazed over the stone walls of the turret rooftop to the endless sea beyond. Shorebirds and hawks circled at eye level, hunting for prey. Clouds were gathering in the west and the moist air was laden with the scent of rain.
He strummed the guitar he held in his lap, working out the words to the last of his new piece. The music that had poured out of him after he’d met Fianna was some of the best he’d ever written, and he wished he could share it with her.
He’d been thinking about returning to Los Angeles to see her. He could stay at the Beverly Hills Hotel, like he used to before he and Laila had bought the house in Malibu. He liked the little village of Beverly Hills, especially the cafes and the family-run shops that hadn’t yet been bought out by Gucci, Chanel, or Cartier.
Not that he didn’t like to pop into one of those stores and buy a special gift for Kaitlin or his mother, but his style was more Gap than Gucci, though he remembered Gucci did have leather goods that lasted forever. He was a man who appreciated quality, especially in music. And women.
Fianna. How could a woman with crazy eyes have beguiled him so quickly? He grinned to himself. That was a good title for a funny little song for her. He thought of the song Willie Nelson had written, “Crazy.” Maybe he was crazy for feeling what he did for her. He’d been through a lot of expensive therapy after Laila died. Was he on the rebound?
He chastised himself for not waiting at her shop the day he’d dropped by. He probably could have gotten her phone number from Johnny through his girlfriend Scarlett.
Johnny. That’s who he needed to call. But it was far too early in California to call yet.
Niall continued working on the words to the music he’d composed. He had to finish it today. His friend’s wedding was the next day, and he’d promised to sing to surprise the wife. Evidently, she was a long-time fan.
Niall tried a couple of new versions of the love song he was working on, but he couldn’t seem to get the words quite right. What would he really like to say to Fianna someday?
Kaitlin stuck her head through the door on the turret rooftop. “I think we’re going to have to cancel that bike ride this afternoon. Smells like rain is on its way.”
Niall swung his legs off the table. “Then let’s go to the pub for a pint. I need to take a break anyway.”