Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Three days later, Sweeney was enjoying the temperate climes of Honolulu and having an absolute ball.
Her mate Leilani, who she’d met years ago when she’d been sent on her first ever Hawaii gig and who had practically adopted her, had organised everything.
Locations, permissions, schedules, travel.
And she’d invited Sweeney to stay with her in her quaint little beachfront bungalow far from the tourist hotspots.
The choir, made up of homeless people, were simply amazing.
The stories were sad and criminal and heart wrenching, but their joy and their lust for life that shone from them as they lifted their voices and sang like angels despite their circumstances was humbling.
Every person had thanked her profusely for volunteering to take the pictures that would be used to publicise the choir and the issue of homelessness throughout the state as well as the entire US mainland.
But the truth was, they were doing her a favour.
Every person in the choir had a story and it was her job to tell that story in one perfect shot.
And she revelled in it. It also helped to distract her from the fact that she’d tagged Fin in her Instagram post three days ago and he’d not responded.
She’d felt sure he would at least drop a message in their chat but, as every hour passed without anything, she grew more despondent.
She hadn’t been sure how he felt but she was sure his silence spoke volumes.
They were on their second day of shooting.
The first day had involved a lot of out-of-the-way spots where tourists rarely travelled, but today they’d moved in closer to the city centre.
They’d already been to Waikiki to get sunrise shots, and now they were in the grounds of Iolani Palace, under the spreading canopy of a monkeypod tree, sunshine dappling the ground and faces in a truly unique way.
She was in the middle of gathering everyone together—not dissimilar to gathering the Banshees together, really—when she swore she heard her name being called from behind.
‘Sweeney.’
She froze. Her scalp tickled, her tummy tightened. That was a very familiar voice! Spinning around, she found Fin strolling towards her.
‘Fin?’
Her brain might have been confused but her body was not.
He was in floral board shorts and a t-shirt and her heart almost banged out of her chest. If she’d had any doubts she was in love with him and he was just some flight of fancy born from nostalgia and separation, they disappeared in an instant.
This was not the boy, not her lifelong friend. This was Fin, the man. And she loved him in a very adult way with her whole heart, and if he hadn’t come here to tell her the same thing then she was very much afraid she might just commit her first ever murder.
Because her heart was leaping all over the place, her pulse beating frantically through every cell of her body. He filled up her entire vision, everything else melting away.
Surely he wouldn’t be here to reject her? ‘You’re … here.’
It was the dumbest thing in the world to say but she wasn’t exactly accessing a higher intellect right now. Everything about her had been reduced to her basest instincts. He was a man, she was a woman and she loved him.
He stopped just out of her reach and smiled. ‘You tagged me. I came.’
‘But …’ She frowned. ‘How?’ She’d expected him to message her, or to call. Not just show up. In Hawaii. In the exact place she happened to be.
He tipped his chin at someone behind her and Sweeney turned to find Leilani grinning, along with everyone else in the choir, who were making no bones about listening to every word.
She turned back as he said, ‘I saw Leilani commented on your post and checked her out online. I saw a lot of selfies of the two of you and pictures of her with the choir.’ He shrugged.
‘I put two and two together and DMed her, and she slipped me the schedule.’
Sweeney’s heart was beating double time now. She didn’t even care that Leilani had given her up. She only cared about his answer to the next question. ‘Why? Why did you come?’
Dare she hope?
‘To tell you I love you. And, as fate would have it, I apparently proposed to you in Hawaii, so it seemed preordained that I come here and do it for real so at least part of our story will be true.’
‘You love me,’ she repeated, wanting desperately to believe him but too afraid she’d open her eyes and find she was only dreaming. ‘And you’re proposing?’
He nodded. ‘That about sums it up.’
Sweeney shook her head. It was too much. Too good to be true, surely? ‘Isn’t it a little soon for a proposal? I mean … we haven’t even been on a date.’
And she wanted him to be sure. As sure as she was.
‘I don’t need to date you. I don’t need a period of time to see if we work, see if we’re compatible.
I’ve known that for thirty-two years. You and I know everything about each other.
More, I’m willing to wager, than most couples who say I do.
And I know already that I love you and want to be with you forever and always.
But if you need dates, then we’ll date.’
Sweeney shook her head. ‘I don’t need dates.’ She knew it as sure as she knew the sun would rise over the island tomorrow.
He smiled as he stepped closer. ‘Then all that matters is, do you love me?’
Sweeney swallowed a huge lump in her throat as he took her hand. ‘Yes.’ A sheen of moisture misted her eyes. ‘With every fibre of my being.’
‘And do you want to be with me for the rest of our lives?’
She nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. For as long as we have on this earth.’ Even if it was cruelly cut short like it had been for her parents. Sweeney understood that now. She was willing to risk it all for the best damn thing that would ever happen in her life.
‘Well then …’ He squeezed her hand. ‘There’s only one thing for it.’
Fin sank to one knee, causing the little crowd behind him to gasp and murmur in appreciation.
But Sweeney only had eyes for him, her throat constricting as he produced a Claddagh ring from his pocket.
‘Sweeney Pearl Bailey, I love you. I think I might always have loved you or at least known somewhere inside that you were the girl for me. And I want to go on loving you until the end of time. Will you marry me?’
Hot tears pushed at her eyes but Sweeney was determined not to let them fall. If she did, she might not be able to turn them off. And they wouldn’t be dainty, pretty, girly tears. There was too much emotion in this moment for that. They’d be loud and messy. There would be snot crying.
Definitely not Instagram worthy.
‘Yes. I think you’ve always been the boy for me too. Yes.’ She nodded as her heart soared. ‘Anywhere. Any time. For all time.’
Cheers sounded behind them then and Sweeney laughed as Fin slipped the ring on and got to his feet. It was plastic and brassy and scratchy on her finger—definitely not his grandmother’s.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he murmured, sliding his hands onto her hips and pulling her close. ‘I gave Granny’s back to Mum, so this is just a place holder.’
Sweeney didn’t mind one little bit. ‘Where’d you get it?’
‘One of those tacky, touristy shops at Dublin airport that survive on panicked tourists buying last-minute gifts for friends and family back home. It cost me twenty euro.’
Sweeney laughed. She loved that. She loved that it would be part of the story of them, one of those funny anecdotes they’d tell their children one day.
God … children. Babies.
In the matter of a month she’d gone from vehemently single and childless to falling in love with her best friend and already running through cute Irish kiddie names in her head.
‘You know,’ she said as she wound her arms around his neck, ‘our mothers are going to be unbearably smug, right?’
And Mrs Hitchin was going to be worse. Marjorie Weaver was going to be eating a lot of crow, though, and that was deeply satisfying.
He smiled as his mouth lowered. ‘I think we can give them this win,’ he said as their lips met and the choir broke into an a cappella rendition of ‘Chapel of Love’.
The absolute perfect beginning to the rest of their lives.