Page 15 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
Liam put a hand on her arm. “Is the clay still bothering you?”
“No, actually. I finally centered the clay and made my first piece.”
With Kade’s help.
“I told you Ireland would be balm to the senses.” He pointed to the overcast sky. “Is there anything more beautiful?”
“Liam, it’s been cloudy for two weeks. I’m missing the sunshine.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he said with a wink. “Part of the charm. It’s like the old saying.No rain, no rainbows.”
She loved Liam but she almost rolled her eyes at that piece of “wisdom.”
“Now, take Ollie off to school,” her cousin said, walking back to his bike. “We’ll talk when I bring your milk.”
Talk? She wasn’t sure that was a good idea. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk.
When she got into the car, Ollie bounced in his seat. “Mom, I think we stayed too long. I’m actually going to be late.”
She sighed as she turned the car on. “We’re fine.”
Liam raced past them on his motorcycle, making Ollie cheer. “He’s totally the best. Like Kade. And Uncle Carrick. And Brady and Declan and Mr. O’Dwyer. Mom, I’m so glad we live in Ireland now. I love it here!”
She met his eyes in the rearview window. “Me too, honey.”
When they arrived at school, Jamie crossed the schoolyard immediately. “Everything all right? You’re never late.”
“We stopped to see these crazy cows spray-painted red,” Ollie nearly shouted. “The farmer stole your brother’s idea, Mr. Fitzgerald, and it’s awful. Liam called it rubbish.”
“Carrick’s idea?” Jamie asked, his brow furrowing. “Who did?”
“Liam said it was Keegan O’Malley,” Megan said.
“Not him!” Jamie moaned. “How bad is it?”
“He spray-paintedSteakon one of the cows,” Ollie said, bobbing up and down like a fishing line looking for Irish trout.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Jamie cried out. “It’s awful, then.”
Megan had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. The Irish had a way of making life theater. “As awful as it gets.”
“Kids!” Jamie called out to the others milling in the yard. “We’re taking a field trip. Up the road. Grab your coats.”
Megan blinked at him. “You’re going to walk there?”
“It’s a nice ten-minute stroll,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not waiting until school’s out to see this monstrosity.”
“I told Mom we should call Uncle Carrick.” Ollie raced off to join a group of boys who’d emerged from the school with their raincoats.
“Oh, I’ll be calling him,” Jamie said, his brown curls in a riot on his head. “Jesus, Sorcha will be mad as a hornet over this.”
Megan jolted. “Why would you say that? She’s passed.”
“Don’t mind me,” he said, rubbing his skull. “I’m mad meself sometimes. All right, kids, let’s go see what Keegan O’Malley has done to his poor cows. Have a good day, Megan.”
Megan watched as all twenty children followed Jamie down the country road. She shook her head. The small village school wasn’t anything like the one Ollie had attended in Maryland, where everyone was in a grade according to age. The kids in his class here ranged from eight to twelve years old, with Jamie using multiple lesson plans for the various ages. Ollie loved it so far, saying it was like going to summer camp. He had new friends, which delighted her.
But it still threw her that they were going on a cow field trip.
