“Mom, this is Mary.”
Mary steps forward, her hand outstretched to shake my mom’s hand formally. She appears to be shy suddenly, out of her depth, and I pray this means that she’ll be so quiet, they won’t get to know her at all. It will make it easier for everyone when this is over.
“Mary. What a lovely Irish name. It’s Emmett’s granny’s name too.”
Mom smiles at me, and I tell myself that this is a good start. Only ten days to go.
She wipes her hands again like she wants to make a good impression and hugs Mary, kissing her cheek and then holding her at arm’s length so that she can get a proper look at her.
“Look at your hair.” Mom teases some curls around Mary’s face. “I wish Emmett had warned me that you were coming, I’d have saved the big guest room for you. But that’s my son, he likes to keep me on my toes. Come in, Mary. Come in, and I’ll get the kettle on. You must be exhausted after the journey.”
She takes Mary’s hand. It’s a gesture so natural, so welcoming, that my mom would’ve thought nothing of it, until her fingers brush the ring on Mary’s finger. She freezes. Her eyes catch mine briefly, and then she raises Mary’s hand in front of her face, and she’s muttering to herself, “Oh my sweet baby Jesus, my son is getting married.”
Mary and I exchange glances. I wish I knew what she was thinking, because it occurs to me now that I know nothing aboutMary Chrysler other than she’s employed by O’Hara Developers and she has a temper. We haven’t even discussed our fake relationship, where we met, or how long we’ve been seeing each other, so fuck knows what she’ll tell them if I don’t get a chance to speak to her alone first.
“You kept this fecking quiet, Emmett. What are ye trying to do, give me a heart attack?” Mom squeezes Mary close to her chest and then throws her arms around me. “What a celebration this Christmas is going to be. I’ll have to send your pa out for more champagne.”
“No, Mom, it’s fine. You don’t have to do that. We want to keep it quiet and simple.”
“Nonsense, Emmett! My only son brings a young woman home and tells me he’s getting married, and you think we’re going to keep this to ourselves? I’ll have to call Maureen. I’ll have to speak to Father George. Sweet Lord, please tell me that you’ll give me time to organize the wedding.”
“Mom.” I catch Mary’s eye, and she smiles at me like her job here is done. I know she hasn’t said a word yet, but I can’t help feeling that this has played right into her hands. “We haven’t even set the date yet.”
“But you’ll be getting married here on the estate.”
It isn’t a question. Everyone in the O’Hara family gets married on the estate, in the folly at the back of the house overlooking the stream. I’ve always known that’s where I’d get married eventually, but I don’t want my mom to start organizing a wedding that she’ll have to cancel in a couple of weeks’ time.
“Of course we will.” Mary speaks for the first time, and I catch the slight accent that I haven’t noticed before, probably becauseuntil now she’s done nothing but yell at me. “One of the first things Emmett told me was that he wants to get married here. At home.”
Mom strokes my face with tears in her eyes. “Wait till Granny Mary hears about this. You’ll have Granny Nina knitting a baby shawl before the new year.”
Dave is waiting patiently with my luggage for the greetings to be over. “Usual room?” Is that amusement I see glinting in his eyes?
I give him a curt nod and will him to keep moving. For once I’m grateful that my father won’t allow me to share a room with a woman out of wedlock. At least I won’t have to worry about dividing the bed in half: my side, her side.
“Where’s Mary’s luggage?”
Mom frowns at Dave who waits for me to respond. He’ll get me out of sticky situations when required, but this line of questioning doesn’t come under his remit.
Before I can utter a word, Mary chimes in, “I didn’t get a chance to go back to my apartment. Emmett surprised me too…”
Her expression is smug. She might’ve explained the lack of a suitcase, but I know she’s toying with me. She might as well wave a banner above her head saying:Be nice to me Emmett because I can shatter your mom’s illusions just like that.
“Ach, why didn’t you give the girl a chance to pack some clothes?” Mom bats me playfully on the arm and links her other arm with Mary. “Fianna will sort you out. She’s about your size and she brings enough clothes with her to last a month.”
She’s already leading Mary inside the house.
I have to act quickly. Once the women get hold of Mary, we won’t get a moment to ourselves to get our stories straight, and I don’t want them getting suspicious. The O’Hara women might know how to milk a cow and bake the best soda bread in Ireland, but I never met anyone shrewder in a boardroom.
“It’s okay, Mom. Stop fussing. I’ll show Mary to one of the guest rooms.”
“Stop fussing?” She clucks her tongue at me, but really, she’s already sharing a moment with her future daughter-in-law. “You might as well tell the Pope to stop attending Mass.”
I try again. “Mary might want to shower before she meets everyone.”
Mom hesitates just inside the entrance hallway. “Everyone will be so excited to meet you, Mary, but I can bring towels to your room first if you prefer.”
“No, it’s fine. I can’t wait to meet everyone. Emmett talks about you all the time.” She flashes a smile at me over her shoulder as she follows my mom towards the kitchen at the rear of the house.