Page 35 of Midnight Escape

Although many of the people attending weren’t Irish, a sense of home bled into her every pore, making her mourn for what she’d lost. Instead of allowing the drowning emotions to grab hold of her soul, she reminded herself that she’d eventually return home. She trusted Justin to make that possible for both her and her brother.

That thought tried to drag her down. She’d made friends in Baltimore who she’d come to love. But it wasn’t her home. It was a temporary Band-Aid to keep her alive while Justin cleared things up.

“All done,” Luke said, tossing his hands on his hips like Superman.

Pinning a smile on her face, she looked between him and Laura. “Thank you so much. You’re great friends.” From her experience that was true. While Cassie had been a great friend, she would’ve stood there chatting instead of helping Moira.

Laura narrowed her eyes at Moira. “What’s wrong? I know that fake smile when I see it.”

Luke nodded.

Having Danny with her would’ve made her smile, but he had to work. She’d left him a note stating she’d left with her friends in case he returned from his mission early. She knew they’d enjoy themselves laughing and dancing together. Assuming he could dance. Maybe next time. It occurred to her that she hadn’t told him where the three of them had gone. After a moment, she shrugged. She’d probably be back in Baltimore before he returned.

“I just wished I’d had time to visit some of the vendors, but I was aweebit busy.” Her heavy purse attested to that.

Her friends looked at each other, and she knew they didn’t believe her reason for the fake smile. She also knew they wouldn’t push. They’d wait for her to come to them when she was ready.

“Let’s go,” Laura urged. “They’re a few booths still open.”

Moira tucked away the last of her supplies and felt comfortable leaving them for a few minutes. “Let’s do it.”

If only they knew that by walking single file, Laura and Luke had positioned her in the middle, as if they were security guards protecting her. Moving slowly along a table covered with beautiful glass figurines, an older woman proudly informed them that her husband crafted them all.

After narrowing her eyes at Moira, the woman asked, “You’re thatealaíontóiron the end. Aren’t you?” Her Irish accent hit Moira as authentic as well as her use of the language.

Pride in her art could never overcome her shyness when someone asked her if she was an artist. She had no idea why it felt boastful if she responded. Boastful was the last thing she wanted to be as an artist. Pasting on that fake smile, she nodded.

Reaching her hand over the table, the vendor introduced herself. “I’m Moira Kilkenny Johnson.” She chuckled. “I married an American. My love for my country was strong but not as strong as my love for my husband.” Her smile broadened. “Thirty-nine years.” The wistful look on the woman’s face lit some envy in Moira.

Would she actually ever find that kind of love? If so, in Ireland or the US? When she thought of that, Danny’s face came into view. While in the past, her mind whirled through men who’d asked her out or she’d dated. The warm feeling for her Irish potentials didn’t exist.

“My name’s Moira as well,” she answered, without thinking, catching herself before she disclosed her real surname. Danny had instilled in her that she had to stick with her new identity, no matter the case. “It was nice to meet you. You have a lovely booth. With it being so late, I’d also like to see what other booths are open.”

The older woman’s excitement about all the booths had her rattling them off like children with all their offerings. Thanking her, the three of them moved along, passing clothing booths, knick-knacks, and more. When they spotted a novelty booth, they rushed over, she and Laura laughing before they arrived.

Luke groaned. “I can’t decide if I’ll enjoy this or not.”

With a wry smile, Moira laughed. “Oh, you’ll enjoy it, or I’ll make you sit at my booth all day tomorrow as my assistant.”

In a look of mock playfulness, Luke placed his hand on his chest and widened his eyes with laughter in them. “Oh, the horror. I can’t sit at your table all day. There’s entertainment to enjoy. And possible men to attract.” He winked at her.

Moira’s smile changed into one of satisfaction. With Luke wanting to mingle, he’d sit for a bit with her, but he’d never make it all day. Although since two-thirds of her paintings sold today, she might not be sitting all day.That would be wonderful. Although Justin had said they were safe, Danny wanted her to live as if she wasn’t. There were days when she didn’t know what to think.

Two women she’d place not much older than herself greeted her. “You’re one of the artists,” one of the women identified her in a friendly voice.

“Aye. We’d like to enjoy the items you have displayed.”

“Well, of course. We have people do that all day. Truly if someone is playing with something, it draws other people’s interest.”

As relief soaked through her body, Moira thought on the kindness of the people working this event. She’d known nothing in Ireland that matched this. Aye, they had great festivals, but they leaned to mostly celebration in general. These Irish-Americans were celebrating their heritage as if they were on Irish soil.

As Moira and Laura handed each other the most ludicrous of Irish novelty items, they donned them and turned to Luke, who hadn’t touched a thing. She gave him an evil eye, as best she could, and he held his phone. “I’ll be the one to remind you how foolish you look.” He winked. “Without being wasted.”

She did imagine they were probably worse than silly, but it was fun. Her first outfit to remember started with her head gear. Wearing a hideous fake paper crown shaped in a four-leaf clover that stated “Kiss me, I’m Irish” across it, she couldn’t decide what accessory was worse. Below the crown, she’d been handed bright green glasses with horizontal green stripes every inch or so. The design, like most things, were four leaf clovers, and the stripes made the glasses unusable. Around her neck, Laura wrapped a thick boa made with something close to tinsel.

To top it off, Laura handed her a tube of lipstick. Looking at her friend, Moira wondered how much she’d drank because Laura had once commented on the fact she didn’t wear lipstick. Her favorite was a light to clear lip gloss.

Moira must’ve shown her confusion because both of her friends laughed. They didn’t laugh hard at her fun outfit, but they laughed hard at a tube of lipstick. What type of surprise should she expect?

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