34. Dee
CHAPTER 34
Dee
A s Jax promised, the council’s vote had come in.
No .
That tiny, two-letter word had never meant so much to me. No resort. No destruction of our village. And now, with the revenue office sniffing around to investigate how Cillian O’Farrell had manipulated our property taxes, Ballybeg could breathe again.
The news had gone through the village like hot whiskey on a cold night: The Banshee’s Rest was packed.
I’d never seen it so full, not even on St. Paddy’s Day. The doors were wide open to let the fresh spring air in. The tables were loaded with food—we’d decided on going buffet for the evening. Ronan had cooked up his best spring lamb stew, and Cadhla had made five different kinds of cakes.
Someone had even brought in a fiddle, and Seamus was poorly playing tunes in the corner while a few couples tried their hand at dancing on the stone floor.
“Dee, love, this is the best party ever.” Liam Murphy tipped his pint toward me as he leaned on the bar. He looked frailer than ever, but his grin was wide enough to split his face.
I smirked. “You say that every time you have a pint in your hand, Liam.”
“And I mean it every time,” he shot back, winking.
There was a lightness in the air, and it was because we’d come together, fought like hell, and won. When I visited Maggie, I told her about all that had happened and how I wasn’t the Gallagher who’d lost the pub and farm.
“I think I’ve met the man I’m going to marry.” I touched her headstone. “Can you believe it?”
I watched the people of Ballybeg as I pulled pints.
Jax was dancing with little Fiadh on his toes and my heart filled with happiness. He’d make a good father.
We were planning on going to Charleston in a few months. He wanted me to meet some of his friends, and even though he knew I’d dislike them, he wanted me to meet his parents and brothers.
“Dee, Seamus needs to do something about Fergus,” Geraldine complained as she held Poppy, who was wearing a pink bow. “You’ve got to talk to him.”
“Fergus isn’t botherin’ anyone,” Seamus protested.
“Go away, both of you, and leave me the feck alone for one night,” I told them sternly.
By the time the food had been eaten, most of us were tipsy and singing tunelessly. Jax was at a table in the back. When our eyes met, he crooked a finger, beckoning me over. I rolled my eyes but went to him anyway because, God help me, I couldn’t resist that man.
“You look beautiful.”
“Of course I do.” I winked at him. “I got this dress from a fancy store in Ennis.”
He put his hands on my hips and drew me close to him. “It’s not the dress, Dee. It’s you.”
“You’re laying it on thick tonight, Yank.”
He chuckled, standing and offering me his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here for a bit.”
We stepped outside into the cool spring air, the sounds of the pub muffled behind us. The stars were out, scattered like diamonds across the inky sky, and the bench by the stone wall looked as inviting as ever.
He led me there, his hand warm and steady around mine. When we sat down, he pulled me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. For a long moment, we just sat there in silence, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a blanket.
“You did it,” he said finally, his voice soft.
I shook my head. “ We did it.”
He smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Fair enough. But you’re the one who kept this place together, Dee. You’re the heart of Ballybeg.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He tipped my chin up, his blue eyes locking on mine. “Dee, darlin’, you’ll never have to do anything without me ever again.”
I shrugged. “I heard you talking to Brad. You’ve got to leave soon.”
“The championships are starting, and I need to train.”
“I know. But you’ll come back to me.”
“Every time. Maybe you can come and watch me play.”
I kissed him softly. “I’d love to.”
He smiled, his hand sliding around my waist as he pulled me to my feet. “Good. Now, dance with me.”
“Out here?”
“Out here.” He spun me into his arms, and before I knew it, we were swaying under the stars, the faint music from the pub drifting through the night air.
I let myself relax. The fight was over, spring was in the air, and I was in the arms of the man I loved.
And even though I knew he’d have to leave soon, I also knew he’d come back. Because Ballybeg wasn’t just my home anymore; it was his, too.
I was going to suggest we sneak away and head to bed when Ronan came running outside. “Dee,” he called out.
“What?”
“It’s Liam,” he said sadly.
“No.” I shook my head. “No,” I repeated.
Ronan’s expression didn’t change, and the weight of loss hit me like a punch to the gut. Liam Murphy, the man who had grumbled over his pints and pinched my arse more times than I cared to count, was gone.
I felt Jax step up beside me, his hand warm and steady on my back. “Let’s get you inside. Ronan, who do we call?’
“I called the garda, but the doctor is in there, so….”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak. Liam had been part of this village for longer than I’d been alive. He was one of the cornerstones of Ballybeg, the kind of man you thought would live forever simply because you couldn’t imagine the place without him.
“He died while he was at a party at The Banshee’s Rest,” Jax said softly, “And I know he pinched your arse today, I saw him do it.”
I chuckled.
“He died happy, Dee.”
I nodded and let him hold my hand so we could go back inside the pub and say goodbye to an old friend.
* * *
We gave Liam Murphy a proper Irish send-off.
We held his wake at The Banshee’s Rest, and every inch of space was filled with people who’d come to say goodbye to him. A photo of him—grinning broadly, a pint of Guinness in one hand and a bottle of Irish whiskey in the other—was propped up on the bar next to a small bouquet of wildflowers.
“So, what’s an Irish wake like?” Jax had asked me that morning.
“They’re loud, messy, filled with drink, stories, and laughter…and tears,” I told him and added, “You’ll love it.”
As we all toasted our drinks to Liam, the stories started to be told.
“Did I ever tell you about the time Liam fell into the Shannon and claimed he’d been trying to fish with his bare hands?” Liam Ryan said.
“Bare hands, my arse,” Seamus cut in. “The man was three sheets to the wind and chasing a duck, and you all know it.”
The room erupted with the kind of laughter that made your ribs ache. I couldn’t help but smile despite the sadness twisting in my chest.
Liam didn’t have much family. He and his wife didn’t have children, and when she passed, he’d made The Banshee’s Rest his home, a lot like Angus and so many others had. Family he may not have had, but he had all of us.
Friends had brought in trays of sandwiches and baked goods, and Ronan had made Liam’s favorite, shepherd’s pie and berry cake. Of course, there was whiskey and enough Guinness flowing to keep the entire village merry well into the night.
Jax watched the chaos with delight. “I love this,” he said. “I love the joy.”
I glanced at him, catching the soft look in his blue eyes. “It is joyous,” I agreed. “We grieve, sure, but we also celebrate. Liam wouldn’t want us sitting around crying all night. He’d want us laughing, telling stories, and drinking to his memory.”
Jax nodded slowly, his gaze sweeping over the room. “Yeah, he’d like this party and be annoyed he missed it.”
“He sure would.”
As the whiskey bottles were emptied, the mood shifted. The laughter softened, and the memories we shared of Liam became somber.
“He gave me money to buy a new oven when the old one broke down. He wouldn’t let me pay him back,” Cadhla said with a watery smile. “That was when I was young and scared and…alone, right after my divorce. He said I could pay him back by baking him apple tarts. So, I did, and the fecker told me it wasn’t half as good as his ma’s.”
The room chuckled, and someone called out, “He wasn’t wrong!”
Then, as was tradition, the room grew quiet, and someone began to sing. It was Paddy, his voice rough but full of feeling as he launched into The Parting Glass . The familiar melody filled the pub, wrapping around us like a warm embrace, and I once again felt the sting of tears in my eyes.
“Goodbye, Liam, be well. You’ll be missed.”