Page 34 of After Indigo Irish Nights
Once they all had their drinks, she and Donal sat side by side on the gold settee, and she lifted her glass. “To the arts center and to good friends.”
Everyone toasted. “Slainte.”
Bets took a moment to savor the wine. “That’s nice.”
“Good thing I traveled,” Linc said, “because I sure wouldn’t have stumbled into loving wine in Oklahoma. Everyone know why I flew back like my tail was on fire?”
“Besides Bets asking you?” Donal asked with a laugh.
“Besides that. Bets, you didn’t say anything about our talk this morning?”
She shook her head. “I thought I’d wait.”
Linc kicked out his feet. “Let me sum it up then.”
He laid out their conversation, making Donal’s brow raise like the second hand of a clock with each new revelation. “A museum?A hotel?” he managed to get out before Linc continued.
Liam shifted in excitement, literally on the edge of his seat. Kathleen only grinned, probably used to Linc and his big ideas after being Ellie’s best friend for years.
“The hotel is a surprise although it probably shouldn’t be.” Donal blew out his breath at the end. “That’s going to be a challenge—even with a golf course—but golfwouldbe a fine draw. I’m not sure about people traveling for a museum, honestly. We’re three hours from Dublin and a little more than that from the start of the ring of Kerry.”
“That’s in Killarney,” Bets said when Kathleen tilted her head.
“We’d need a big draw, no doubt.” Linc stroked his chin. “Ellie’s finished window will be a start, but that’s inside. Kathleen’s pirate ship will be outside, as you know.”
“Don’t I ever?” Kathleen quipped. “I’m working on it nonstop.”
“Of course you are,” Linc said with a crisp nod. “You know, I got to thinking about other outdoor installations that bring people in from hundreds of miles around. Like the Jolly Green Giant statue in rural Minnesota standing at fifty-five feet tall.”
“You’re kidding me,” Kathleen muttered, her face twisting. “Ellie would tell me to watch out. The sky is about to fall—”
“Then there’s the giant Ball of Twine in rural Kansas—”
“There’s such a thing? Twine?” Donal asked, laughing so heartily his wine sloshed.
“Americans have a weird sense of humor sometimes,” Bets added, shooting him a look. “Especially ones from Oklahoma.”
“What about the world’s biggest lobster or frying pan installations in rural areas?” Linc asked, snorting with laughter. “People come from all around to see those beauties.”
Kathleen swatted him playfully, Bets was glad to see. She might join in. Where was he going with this?
“God, nothing against those artists,” Kathleen said, “but—”
“How about Elwood, the fifteen-foot giant gnome, in Ames, Iowa?” Linc fought off another of Kathleen’s playful swats. “Before you send me to an early grave—with Bets as your accomplice—how about I mention the mythical horses standing at a nearly hundred feet outside Falkirk in Scotland?”
“The Kelpies? Okay, you have my attention,” Kathleen said, crossing her arms.
“I’m sure Linc has a point here, but he’s going about it in his usual roundabout way,” Bets added dryly.
Donal gave a brief chortle. “I’m enjoying it.”
“Me too,” Liam said, chuckling. “It’s like he’s one of us already, storytelling in a roundabout way. I’m totally putting the giant gnome on my bucket list.”
Bets rolled her eyes and gestured impatiently for Linc to keep talking.
“Let’s talk turkey then. Consider theAngel of the Northin Gateshead outside Newcastle in England. That metal sculpture is sixty-six feet tall and just over one hundred and seventy-five feet wide.”
“That’s Antony Gormley’s baby,” Kathleen said breathlessly, albeit with a raised brow. “Letmepoint out that it took four years to build and cost a whopping eight hundred thousand euros according to what I’ve read in my sculpture magazines.”
