Page 22 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
“It’s a new low,” Siobhan said, pouring the men tea, “given how much the community is behind this.”
“No doubt.” Carrick swore under his breath. “But Donal took a hard line with them. Tom burned rubber out of the parking lot.”
“You did pretty well yourself, Fitzgerald,” Donal said, thanking Siobhan when she brought him and Carrick tea. “We got them to agree to a paltry monthly sum for the center. Unfortunately, as the director, you’re going to have to find a way to make up the rest, Bets.”
“I was prepared for that,” Bets said, making her orange-reddish bob dance. “It’s not going to be fun though. I’m going to have to become a grant writer. Gads!”
“And we’re going to have to resort tofundraisers,” Angie said with a moan. “I still have nightmares about the ones I held in Baltimore. In the end, none of it was enough. I lost my job, and they closed the arts center I was managing. Budget cuts suck. I can’t believe I’m facing the same situation here. Where is that luck of the Irish everyone talks about?”
“I’ve never seen it,” Bets said with a sad shrug.
“If I have to sell some of my sheep to keep it open, I will,” Donal said, chucking Bets under the chin.
“Me as well,” Carrick said, rubbing Angie’s arm in comfort. “Don’t worry. The arts center will stay open. You have my word on that.”
Megan trembled at the conviction in his voice. She believed him.
“Oh, Carrick, I love you,” Angie said, hugging him briefly. “But we agreed you would not put up your personal finances for the center.”
“Ourfinances,” he said, fingering her engagement ring.
“I like the sound of that,” she said with her first easy smile, touching the top button of his blue work shirt. “However, no one should be spending their own money on what is being publicly touted as a community resource. Trust me on this.”
“I agree,” Bets said, “and while I love you guys for considering it—I could fund it too—we shouldn’t. It sets a bad precedent in the community. Plus, according to my research, it might hurt our chances for a grant.”
“It will.” Angie made a face. “When private money comes in, public funding always goes down.”
“You would know best,” Carrick said, glowering. “But I’m retaining the right to help if needed.”
She laid her head against his chest for a moment. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to get all emotional. That’s why I love you.”
“And I you, Yank.”
Megan felt tears rise in her eyes. Angie, who’d been married previously—and to a real jerk— had admitted this was the first time she’d experienced this kind of support in a relationship, and that’s why she knew it was going to last.
That wasn’t something Megan had ever experienced with Tyson.
The image of Kade taking her hand yesterday came to mind. When he told her something, she believed him too. Would they be able to have this kind of a relationship? A flash of longing rocked her heart. She wanted to find out, which meant they really needed to keep the center open.
“I think we should hold a craft fair,” Siobhan said, munching on a biscuit. “The holidays would be a grand time for it.”
“How much money do we need to make up?” Angie asked, her brow wrinkling. “I love the idea, but from what I know, you won’t make nearly as much as you think and it’s a lot of work. Unless people donate goods for free, which is rare. Tell me the figure you got the council to agree to, and I’ll run the numbers right now. Carrick, can I use your phone to calculate?”
Megan watched as her sister inputted the number Carrick mentioned, which made Bets groan in despair.
“Megan, how often do you plan to run the kilns?” Angie asked. “Those are going to be our biggest electrical expense.”
Her stomach dropped to the floor. Would they consider cutting her classes? “My students are beginners so right now, so probably only once a month, with the first firing being next month." She bit her lip. “I know ceramics is the most expensive art in an arts center.”
“Megan, I know what that wooden face means,” Angie said, giving her a pointed look. “We aren’t going to stop teaching ceramics.”
“Of course we won’t!” Bets exclaimed so enthusiastically that her silver earrings moved like playground swings. “We’re running an arts center, and we will hold all manner of classes. Even though this budget issue is going to constrict us from bringing in resident artists. Room and board might not be enough to tempt them.”
“To come to Ireland and live without rent?” Angie asked wryly. “You’d be surprised, cousin.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Bets said, biting into a tea cake. “Time will tell.”
Megan wondered how much time they had given the figures they were discussing. “Don’t we need to make money fast to keep things running?”
