seventy

Danny held the children’s hands as they trotted through the rain into the party pavilion. Droplets streamed down the glass walls but inside all was warmth and faery lights. Bunting and circular paper globes festooned the ceiling, which rose into circus tent peaks high above their heads. The children were all goggle-eyed wonder. “This is an air castle,” Petey said.

Near the entrance, Mrs. O’Brien manned a welcome table. She liked welcome tables; this way she could monitor the arrivals. She waved them toward her and cooed at the children for a moment before addressing Danny.

“Children’s activities start in about fifteen minutes. We’re expecting more families to arrive from late Mass. There will be an egg hunt and face painting and puppet shows. Plenty for the children to occupy themselves. You’ll see the stations around the marquee.” With a sour expression, she pointed to a chalk circle drawn on the ground. “And something called a ‘cake walk.’ That was Merrit’s idea from the States to replace our traditional cake dance.”

Danny surveyed the space, at the far end of which sat a stage with dance area. Pockets of lounging areas with circular padded benches lined one side of the marquee, while communal dining tables lined the other. The cake walk circle adorned the ground in the center of the marquee and big bunches of balloons marked various stations for children’s games.

“Where’s the egg hunt going to be?” Mandy said.

“On the other side of the rope. You can’t go there yet, or you’ll find the eggs too early.”

A braided cordon blocked off most of the marquee. The first arrivals blew in with the wet wind and congregated near the entrance. Mrs. O’Brien explained the food. “Picnic to start with a potluck buffet. That was also Merrit’s suggestion. Liam was generous enough to provide catering for later. There will be a no-host bar, too.” She sniffed. “I don’t approve of alcohol on Easter Sunday, but I suppose it can’t be helped.”

The children jerked on Danny’s hands and he released them to join several other kids gathered to wait for the egg hunt. There was something to be said for distraction. The children had been curiously silent about Ellen’s great Easter awakening, but he’d caught significant looks aimed in his direction that filled him with sorrow and frustration—frustration with himself that he didn’t know how to communicate the ultimate truth to them in a way they would understand. Sudden death would actually have been easier to explain to them.

Father Dooley had gotten it wrong when he’d said Danny would know what to say. Instead of a talk, Danny had plied the children with Easter baskets and their own egg hunt and Marcus’s famous Easter pancakes topped with jellybeans. Today was the best Easter Sunday of their lives, lootwise.

Footsteps clicked across the flooring, and he turned to see Merrit approaching with worry and nerves apparent in her clamped jaw and flushed skin. Mrs. O’Brien took one look at her, sniffed again, and abandoned her post to help organize the children.

Merrit caught Danny observing her and shrugged uncomfortably. She wore a fitted black dress that swung just above her knees, hair curled in loose waves and pulled away from her face, and enough makeup to make her unusual hazel-colored eyes glow. She cleaned up well but didn’t know how to walk in heels. She wobbled to a stop next to him. “Zoe did me up. I’ll be wearing flip-flops by the end of the day, you’ll see.”

“Where is she?”

Merrit pointed to one of the lounging circles, where Zoe sat talking to several other festival volunteers. “The latest on Nathan is that this morning I found him sleeping in Fox Cottage. He mentioned it being safer.”

“For who?”

“That was my first thought, too. None of this feels right, including Liam’s sudden good health. The other night at your house I meant to ask you if you could persuade him to see a new doctor for a second opinion.”

“I can do that.” It would be his pleasure, in fact, because Zoe’s healing hobby preyed on him, too. “Now, in fact.”

Liam sat at one of the communal tables with a cup of tea in front of him. Danny joined him and watched more children gather for the egg hunt.

“Quite the festivity you hatched,” Danny said.

“Ay, but Merrit brought it together. She had help, of course. Mrs. O’Brien is indispensable at such times. They’ve been working nonstop for the last two days.”

“And Zoe?”

“Ah, yes, Zoe.” He went silent. The tent shuddered with a wind gust that made the long poles squeal. “Merrit talked to you, I suppose.”

“She asked me to ask you to see a doctor. Humor her, would you?”

“There’s no accounting for it, but I’m improving. I feel better each day.”

“You can’t think it’s because of Zoe.”

More wind gusted. Outside, a solid grey sky promised more rain, and lots of it.

“You might have heard that Zoe claimed that she healed Bijou.” Liam sipped his tea. “I know how it sounds. Pure madness. I’ve been over it and over it, and I can’t figure out how Zoe faked it. She had a piece of glass with blood on it, and Bijou has a pink scar on one of her paws that Alan didn’t recognize. Explain that to me.”

“Perhaps the scar already existed.”

“How did Zoe know that?”

“That’s the interesting question. She noticed it previously, or even that day. Bijou loves to have her belly rubbed. She’ll display the bottoms of her paws to anyone.”

Liam looked skeptical. “All I know is that Zoe held Bijou’s paw the same way she holds my hand.”

Across the way, Zoe laughed with her companions. She’d piled her hair up in a messy ’do on top of her head with dangling curls brushing her shoulders. She was the living antithesis of the gloom trying to batter its way into the party. Like a spring nymph. Or maybe a spring siren.

“And,” Liam continued, “why would she stage such an elaborate demonstration for us?”

“Another good question. She could have said, ‘Fancy a healing session with me?’”

Liam grunted. “And received the full bolloxing for her efforts. I’m sure she’s tried that before.”

“With Nathan to begin with, and maybe her mother, too.”

“Ay, that may be the crux of her right there. Rejection.”

“Daddy issues?” Danny tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Or mommy issues.”

“Issues, anyhow.”

“So am I to understand that you don’t believe she’s healing you?”

“I didn’t say that, but I’ll relent and see a doctor.” He grinned. “If Merrit approached you about it, she must be anxious, indeed.”

A kid flurry attracted Liam’s attention. The egg hunt was about to start, which signaled the opening of the Earrach Festival. Merrit reappeared, wearing not flip-flops but a pair of low-heeled ankle-strappy numbers on her feet. She clapped her hands and called for the children to line up along the rope. Mandy pulled Petey with her to the edge of the line.

Danny smiled, knowing that his scrappy daughter had figured out they had a better chance of finding eggs if they focused their efforts along the edge of the marquee. He willed himself to enjoy this moment with them. The Ellen topic could wait.

Merrit held up the rope and a pair of gardening shears. Together, she and the children counted down from ten. The children screamed at the tops of their lungs. “Ten!”

“Nine!”

More people entered the marquee. Children tussled to stand in front. The marquee shook under threat from the wind.

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny spied Zoe waving at someone while shouting down the numbers with everyone else.

“Six!”

“Five!”

Danny followed her gaze to see Sid with his placid smile contemplating the festivities from the corner of the marquee, unobtrusive and unnoticed. He waved back at Zoe.

“Four!”

“Three!”

Liam nudged Danny with his elbow. Nathan hovered near the entrance. His lips moved in words aimed at no one. In his corner, Sid watched Nathan.

“Two!”

“One!”

Merrit cut the rope with a snap of shears, and in the ensuing chaos of screams and squeals and cheering adults, Danny lost sight of both Sid and Nathan.