Page 115 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
Epilogue
Two weddings in two days. That was what Brady McGrath called more than a measure of good luck.
The feeling of it hung in the air, so much so that the candles at Kade and Megan’s celebration danced with it. Bets’ parlor was lit up in grand style with all the candles he’d delivered only days before. Laughter bubbled like hearty Irish stew, and the whiskey flowed—poured by his own hand from behind his bar station. His father let him pour at weddings, something he never did at the Brazen Donkey. The pub was Gavin McGrath’s until he was ready to sit on one of the ancient barstools and let the next generation pour for him. Brady couldn’t wait for that day. He loved being a postman, but his favorite part of the job was sitting around with people and telling tales—all the better if he could do it with a whiskey.
Eoghan O’Dwyer also loved telling tales, and he certainly had a lot of them, being ninety-three and counting. But he was going to be telling tales to a doctor if he didn’t mind the candles around him, the most dangerous being the flickering, wax-dripping candelabra on the table behind him. Eoghan grew excitable at celebrations, waving his arms about. Caching on fire would negate some of the good luck, Brady imagined, and they couldn’t have that.
“You’d have thought Kade would have told sweet Megan about the last wedding with too many candles,” his brother Declan said, coming up to his bar station and extending his empty glass.
He poured his twin a generous portion. “We managed to put out poor Sinead’s dress before it hurt her or torched the extensions she’d gotten. Thank God she’d padded her bum with those new gel bottoms some women favor.”
His brother shook his head. “I don’t understand why women can’t like what they have—I do, being a connoisseur of all parts—”
“Is that supposed to be a bad butcher joke? Breast, thighs, and legs?”
“You know it, but don’t interrupt me. I also can’t understand why you know so much about such things.”
“It’s my job to scan packages, brother,” he said, sipping his own drink. “You should see what some people order. I don’t rightly know if they realize the customs description is on the front for anyone to see.”
Declan leaned his elbow on the bar. “Tell me something interesting you’ve delivered lately.”
“No, it’s confidential.” He gave his brother a shove. “Give me some room. I’m trying to keep an eye on Eoghan.”
“He’ll be fine,” Declan said, glancing over his hulking shoulder with a grin. “That man defies age and is as canny as they come. I hear Donal is planning on selling his sheep and land to Carrick. I told Carrick he’s lucky to be buying them from the son and not the father. Eoghan would drive a harder bargain.”
“Times were tougher back then.” Brady grabbed a rag and polished his station like his father had taught him, aware his father was keeping an eye on him because he was the McGrath, after all. A bar was never supposed to have spilled whiskey. Bad luck, his father would say. The wood remembered the loss of it, and good whiskey wasn’t to be lost. Not in his pub.
“Carrick and Angie’s wedding was grand, wasn’t it? But they didn’t have candles, thank God.”
No, Carrick and Angie’s celebration had been filled with color at the local estate turned hotel. “In my experience, usually a couple chooses two or three shades to set the theme.”
His brother raised a brow. “What?”
“Look at Megan and Kade’s setup.” He waved his arm. “Sea tones. Blues and creams with a splash of green. Kade said they wanted to have the land around them.”
“That explains the platters and clear vases holding seashells and sea glass,” Declan said. “I had no idea what to make of them. I hoped they weren’t party favors.”
Brady laughed. “I bet Kade would let you take a shell home if you really want it.”
His brother didn’t laugh in response.
“It suits them. Just like the rainbow buffet of colors at Carrick and Angie’s do suited them. Everything they selected was colorful—flowers, tablecloths, china, and lights. I rather liked it.”
Declan stood to his full height, but he was still the shorter twin by two inches, something that had always delighted six-foot-five Brady. “Did you just talk about rainbows and tablecloths and china?”
These were the moments he enjoyed. He took pleasure in getting a rise out of his brother. Still, he said for cover, “Why not? I delivered it all!”
“Right, but you still scared me.” His brother shuddered. “If you start bringing in tablecloths and china and the like to Summercrest Manor in… What did you call it? A rainbow buffet of colors? I’m going to put you out of your misery while you sleep.”
“You wouldn’t.” He extended his whiskey to toast. “You love me too much.”
“I’d live,” his brother responded, clinking their glasses together.
“Although I think a magenta tableclothwouldlook incredible on a table in the dungeon. Isn’t that where you’re planning on taking your dates?”
“You—”
“Are you two keeping an eye out for Eoghan?” Kade interrupted as he stepped up to the bar.
