Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Thirteen years later
Maeve sat on the porch swing holding a sleeping Bridget in her arm.
“Maggie, I don’t want to see that again,” she said sternly. “You must not pull your sister’s hair.”
“She won’t give me my doll,” insisted eight-year-old Margaret with her hands on her hips.
“Why does she always get the best doll?” whined five-year-old Colleen.
“Your doll was nice too,” Maeve scolded, “before you decided to cut all her hair off. A fine thing too, when you just got her for your birthday.”
“I don’t care,” Colleen cried, jumping up and making a grab for Maggie’s doll. Maggie screamed and held the doll above her head as she took off at a dead run.
“Give her to me,” Colleen screeched, chasing her.
“Rory, come and take the babe while I get after those two,” Maeve called to her oldest son who was playing with a basketball in the driveway.
“When’s Da coming home?” Rory asked, bounding up the porch steps. “They aren’t quite so bad when he’s here.” Reaching down, he took his sleeping sister from his mother’s arms.
“I don’t know,” Maeve replied. “He should have been home last night, but he was delayed. A fine husband he turned out to be, bringin’ me across the ocean, givin’ me all these children to tend to and then goin’ off on a business trip,” she snapped.
Rory sat on the swing and smiled. Ma was all sass and vinegar now, but she’d be just as happy to see their da as the rest of them despite her complaining.
“Patrick, get your finger out of your nose,” she barked as she went inside the house letting the screen door slam behind her.
“When is Da coming home?” Patrick asked. “He promised to get me a new tire for my bike.”
“He’ll be here when he gets here,” Rory replied, rocking the swing when his sister began to fuss. “What are you complaining about anyway? You’re never asked to mind the baby.”
“That’s because you’re the more responsible one, and Ma think’s I’ll drop her,” Patrick said with a laugh as he plopped down beside his brother.
“Maggie, Colleen,” Maeve hollered up the stairs. “Come down here and I don’t want to hear a word of complaint out of either of you. ’Tis time to start supper.”
“What can I do, Ma?” Maggie asked as she slowly descended the stairs, trailing a hand along the polished banister.
“You can peel the potatoes can’t you?” her mother asked, frustrated.
“She can but I can’t,” Colleen replied with a smirk. “I’m too little so she may as well let me play with her doll while she helps you.”
“Why so you can scalp her like you did yours?” Maggie asked wryly.
“Get in the kitchen, the both of you so I can keep an eye on you. Heavens, if your da doesn’t come home soon I may be packin’ a bag and goin’ on a business trip of my own,” she mumbled as she herded the girls through the swinging kitchen door.
* * *
They heard the familiar toot of the horn before the first potato was peeled and both girls shot out the back door. Maeve peeked out the window and smoothed her hair into place but stayed in the kitchen.
“Da, Da you’re home,” Maggie and Colleen screamed in unison as their father got out of the station wagon. “We thought you were never comin’ home.”
“Is that so?” Sean asked as he scooped up a daughter in each strong arm and headed up the sloped lawn to the porch. “Now why would you think a silly thin’ like that, I wonder.”
“Cause Ma said she was packing a bag and going on a trip herself,” Colleen tattled.
“Oh she did, did she? Have you been givin’ your ma a hard time while I’ve been away?” he asked suspiciously, looking from Maggie to Colleen.
“Not me, Da,” Maggie insisted, fiddling with the tiny buttons on her cardigan sweater. “But she did,” she announced pointing at Colleen. “She cut all the hair off her brand new doll and then got mad when I wouldn’t let her play with mine.”
“Is that true, Colleen?” Sean asked.
“Yes, Da, it’s true,” Colleen admitted with a woebegone expression. “But I didn’t mean to cut off all her hair. I only meant to give her a little haircut. Then it just kept getting shorter and shorter and pretty soon she was bald,” she wailed, throwing her arms around her father’s neck and sobbing.
“Never you mind about the hair,” Sean soothed. “I’m sure we can think of somethin’ to make her presentable.”
“Boys, anythin’ I should know before I go in and see your ma?” he asked, looking at his sons.
Patrick shook his head.
“No, Da,” Rory said, “but I think it might be best if you didn’t take any more trips for a while. Ma was pretty put out when you didn’t get home last night.”
“I’m not surprised, but it couldn’t be helped. Girls stay out here and let me talk to your ma for a few minutes,” Sean said, setting them down. “And try to behave,” he scolded mildly, looking each of his daughters in the eye until they nodded. “That’s my good lassies.
“Patrick, go and get my bags from the car, Rory’s mindin’ your sister. Has Bridget been a good wee lass?” he asked, leaning over the baby and lightly touching her hair.
“I guess so,” Rory sighed. “She eats, she sleeps, she cries and she poops. I don’t think she’s supposed to do much else.”
Sean laughed and ruffled Rory’s black hair. He found his wife in the kitchen peeling potatoes with her back to the door. Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck.
“So you finally decided to come home,” she sniffed as she continued her work.
“I’m truly sorry, darlin’,” Sean said, kissing the top of her head. “I had to get John, Bridy and Irelynn to the airport in time for their flight. Then my meetin’ was supposed to be finished last night, but it carried over till this mornin’. Forgive me?” he whispered.
“Never.”
“Never is a long time,” he said, trying not to laugh.
“Aye, a very long time,” Maeve replied, pulling out of his arms and carrying her pot to the sink.
Turning on the water, she began to wash the potatoes.
“’Tis a shame they had to go back to Ireland.
I’ll miss them and the girls will miss Irelynn.
I think if Bridy’s ma hadn’t taken sick they’d have stayed. ”
“Aye,” Sean agreed. “Now, what can I do to make it up to you, lass?” Sean mused following her.
“Let me pack a bag and go off on a three-day vacation,” she suggested, turning off the water.
Sean nudged her out of the way and picked up the heavy pan, setting it on the stove. Maeve crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, tapping her foot.
“I’ve an idea,” he said. “I’ll put five stout hooks along the dinin’ room wall and we’ll harness each one and hang the hooligans up where they can’t get into any trouble. Then you and I will go upstairs and you can show me how angry you are with me.”
He caught her smile as she turned her head away. “What about the babe?”
“She can come upstairs. She’s too little to grasp what’s goin’ to happen, or you can wrap her up like one of those papooses we see on all the westerns,” he offered. “She’s not a hooligan yet, but I’ve no doubt she will be.”
“Aye, you’re most likely right this one time,” Maeve agreed with a sigh.
“Let me go get my tools and some hooks,” he said, slipping off his suit jacket and hanging it on a kitchen chair.
“You are not goin’ to hang my children up like sacks of meal,” Maeve insisted crossly.
“Then what can I do to make you love me again, darlin’?” he sighed in pretend defeat. Maeve reached up and grabbed his tie, pulling him down to her level.
“You can kiss me, O’Malley,” she breathed against his lips.
And he did until they were both breathing heavily and Maeve’s knees felt weak.
“Go and see the children now, Sean,” she said easing out of his arms. “They’ve missed you.”
“Did you miss me, darlin’?” he asked.
“Not a bit,” she sassed, turning away to the stove and opening the oven door. Bending over to poke the chicken, Sean could suddenly see how short her shorts really were and the curve of her cheeks beneath the hem.
“I hope you haven’t been out of the house in those.”
“Not much,” she replied, straightening and closing the oven. “Only to the grocer and then I went to confession.”
Sean laughed, spun her back into his arms and kissed her again. Then he swatted her bottom.
“You’re setting a poor example for our girls, lass,” he stated a bit sternly.
“Aye, so are you,” Maeve replied, nodding at Rory standing in the doorway watching with interest.
“Let that be a lesson to you, son,” Sean began. “Never give your wife the upper hand and don’t be afraid to smack her sassy bottom when she needs it.”
“Da, whether you know it or not, it’s Ma who runs the house,” Rory replied coming into the room and passing the baby to his father. “She pooped,” he informed him. “Ma, can Mason and Nick stay to supper tonight? Their da’s not home again.”
“Aye, tell Maggie to set two extra places, although why I think those boy’s are extra I don’t know. Their father…well, never you mind what I think of him,” she said with a sniff.
Sean took the baby and left the kitchen whistling. It was good to be home.
* * *
After the children were in bed, Maeve sat on the swing with Sean watching the fireflies. His arm was around her shoulders and she rested her head.
“Don’t you think ’tis odd how different all our children are?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well Rory’s black Irish with his dark hair and eyes and he’s so serious all the time.”
“Must be because he was conceived in that horrible pink room,” Sean offered with a snort.
“No, I mean it. Look at Patrick. He’s got red hair and he’s good natured and even tempered.
“Margaret is prideful and stubborn, Colleen spoiled and willful, determined to get her way.
“As far as Bridget, I guess we’ll have to wait and see, but I’m not hopeful. She’s a sweet little bundle now, but I’ve a feelin’ she may cause more trouble than all the others put together.”
“Are you sorry you married me, darlin’?” Sean asked, stroking her hair. “Sorry I brought you so far from home and gave you a houseful of hooligans?”
“Not for a minute,” Maeve replied with a sigh. “I will miss Bridy though. She’s my best friend.”
“Aye, I’ll miss her too,” Sean admitted sorrowfully.
“Sean O’Malley, you always said her constant chatter drove you to distraction!”
“It did, but she’s the one who always buys you those special nightgowns for Christmas and your birthday,” he said with a laugh. “She has a special place in my heart.”
“I could surprise you and buy some of those fancy things on my own, O’Malley,” Maeve replied. “You never know.”
“Care to surprise me now?” he whispered huskily in her ear.
Maeve laughed and stood up. Taking his hand, she tugged him from the swing.
“I might at that,” she replied, grinning. When they got to the door, she paused. “You know O’Malley; you never carried me over the threshold.”
“Aye, you’ve reminded me a thousand times, and I’ve made up for it by twice that amount,” he stated, sweeping her into his arms.
Maeve pulled the screen door open.
“Aye, I know, but I still like it,” she sighed, nuzzling his neck.
“So you did miss me?” he laughed, kicking the door closed behind him. “Kiss me, Mrs. O’Malley.”
She did.
The End