A Merry Irish Christmas

Chapter 1

‘Can I help you with anything?’

Mary had been staring at a display of cookware on the fifth floor of Macy’s, paralysed by indecision, for almost ten minutes when the sales assistant approached her – Ted, according to his name badge, a tall, handsome young man with a sharp haircut.

‘I don’t know. Is cookware a good gift?’ She looked up at him uncertainly.

‘Depends who it’s for. Are we talking parents, friends…?’

‘It’s for my boyfriend’s parents.’

‘Ah, in-laws. That’s a tricky one.’

‘Well, they’re not exactly in-laws, but…’

‘Same vibe, essentially.’ Ted nodded. ‘Same pressure, same desperation to please. Are they into cooking?’

‘That’s the trouble, I know practically nothing about them. I have no idea what they enjoy doing, what their taste is like, what stuff they have…’

‘You’ve never been to their home?’

Mary shook her head. ‘I’ve never even met them.’ Since they’d retired, Greg’s parents had spent almost their entire time travelling and they’d rarely been home in the last couple of years. ‘But we’re going to stay with them for Christmas.’

‘Ooh, no pressure, then,’ Ted said with a sympathetic smile. ‘I remember how nervous I was when I met my boyfriend’s folks for the first time. But it’s exciting too, right?’

‘Yes, totally,’ Mary said brightly, trying to match Ted’s enthusiasm.

If she was honest, she wasn’t as thrilled at the prospect of meeting Greg’s parents as Ted seemed to expect.

Just tamping down her disappointment that she’d be missing Christmas with her family in Dingle was using up all her reserves of good cheer.

Actually looking forward to it would be too much of a stretch.

‘Okay, so what do we know about them?’ Tim clasped his hands in a businesslike way that said he was prepared to be helpful.

‘Um… not much. They’re pretty well off, so I doubt there’s much they actually need.’

‘Why not ask your boyfriend what they’d like?’

She’d tried that, but Greg hadn’t been much help. ‘He just says I’m overthinking it and they’ll be happy with whatever I get them.’

‘Well, I’m sure he’s right. I mean, they raised your boyfriend, so you know they’re good people, right?’

‘I suppose.’ Was Greg a good person, though? He was good-looking, and good at his job, but she wasn’t sure ‘good’ was an adjective she’d use to describe him personally.

‘How about we go at it another way? What do you want this gift to say?’

‘Um… I haven’t thought about it like that. What would this casserole say?’ She pointed to a large Dutch oven in a beautiful berry shade.

‘Fix my dinner?’

Mary laughed. ‘Not really the message I want to send.’

‘Yeah, cookware probably isn’t the way to go.’

‘I’m looking more for something that says: “I’m nice, please like me”.’

‘Well what about a nice gourmet food basket? Everyone likes food – nice wine, some chocolates. I’d say that’s a sure-fire way to endear yourself to anyone. We have a lovely range on the ground floor.’

‘That’s a great idea.’ She was about to pick up the shopping bags at her feet when her phone buzzed in her pocket. ‘Sorry,’ she said to Ted as she pulled it out and opened a message from her friend Gina:

I’m early, but no rush. Got a table at the back.

Mary glanced at her watch. It was still a quarter of an hour until they were due to meet for lunch, but she was glad of the excuse to escape and postpone this decision.

She texted back:

Be there in five.

‘Thanks, Ted,’ she said, pulling on her gloves.

‘Sure, any time.’

Mary picked up her bags in both hands.

‘Happy holidays – and good luck!’ Ted called after her as she turned towards the elevators.

It was the week before Christmas and the streets were jam-packed with shoppers jostling for space on the thronged pavements.

Children bundled in coats and scarves, their cheeks flushed from the cold, stood gazing in awe at the extravagant displays in the storefront windows.

Mary could relate. Despite the crowds and the mayhem, she loved the razzle-dazzle of New York at Christmas – the sidewalk Santas clanging their bells and calling ‘Ho Ho Ho’ to passers-by, the lavish decorations and sparkling lights, the festive music that poured from shop doorways.

It never failed to give her a childlike thrill of excitement to be part of it.

When she reached the Italian trattoria where she was meeting Gina, she shouldered her way through the door and looked around, quickly spotting her friend waving her over to the far corner.

‘I ordered the wine,’ Gina said, nodding to an open bottle on the table. She already had a full glass in front of her. ‘Hope Pino Grigio’s okay?’

‘Perfect!’ Mary said, dropping her bags under the table. ‘Thanks.’ She removed her coat and scarf as Gina poured her a glass. Then she flopped onto the seat opposite her with a sigh of relief. ‘Wow, Christmas shopping is exhausting.’

‘You look like you’ve been busy,’ Gina said, nodding to the myriad bags at Mary’s feet. ‘Are you all set?’

Mary took a sip of wine and felt herself begin to relax. ‘Almost. I still haven’t got anything for Greg’s parents. I want to make a good impression, but I don’t have a clue what to get them. And Greg’s no help.’ She repeated what she’d told Ted.

‘Huh! That’s such a cop-out.’

‘I’ve spent half the morning wandering around looking at stuff, wondering if this woman I’ve never met would like it or if it would go in a house I’ve never seen. I almost got them a casserole dish just now.’

‘Yikes!’

‘I know. Luckily a sales guy talked me down just in time.’

‘Why don’t you just get them a fancy hamper? Everyone likes food and liquor.’

‘That’s what Ted said!’

‘Who’s Ted?’ Gina frowned.

‘The sales guy in Macy’s.’

‘Well, there you go. It’s unanimous.’

‘Yeah, I’m going to go with that. But first, I need to eat.’ She picked up the menu. ‘I’m starving and I’ll probably spend another couple of hours trying to choose which one to get.’

‘So, you’re back in the office on Monday, right?’ Gina asked when they’d ordered.

‘Yeah. I figured I might as well save my leave, since Greg’s working all week anyway and we’re not driving up to his family’s place until Christmas Eve.’ She’d booked extra time off earlier in the year, when she’d thought she’d be spending Christmas in Ireland.

‘How’s your mom dealing with you not going back home for Christmas?’ Gina asked.

‘Not great.’ Mary took a sip of wine. ‘She’s pretty gutted about it.

As am I.’ It was a relief that she could be honest with Gina about it.

She tried to be more upbeat around Greg and not to let him see how disappointed she was.

After all, she wouldn’t like it if they were going to Dingle and he was unhappy about it.

Naturally, he wanted to spend the holidays with his family just as much as she’d like to spend it with hers, and she was glad he wanted her to go with him.

It represented a commitment to their relationship that she found reassuring after a somewhat wobbly few months when she’d wondered if they had any future together.

She’d met Greg when he was on the rebound after what seemed like a particularly brutal break-up, when his ex, Juanita, had left him to return to her native El Salvador.

But that had been two years ago, so she’d been blindsided last July, when Greg had had a complete meltdown after Juanita called to tell him she was engaged.

He’d spiralled, gone on a bender, and sunk into a fug that lasted two days where he’d hardly got out of bed or eaten anything.

Mary had felt they were on shaky ground ever since, and began to question whether he’d ever seen them going the distance.

So asking her to go home with him for Christmas felt like a good step.

It would consolidate their relationship and they could start the new year on a firmer footing.

Missing Christmas with her own family was a high price to pay, but sometimes comprises had to be made for the sake of long-term happiness.

Besides, it made sense. Greg couldn’t take any extra time off work and Ireland was too far to go for a couple of days.

Still, she couldn’t help being upset about missing an opportunity to spend time with her family. She saw little enough of them, and even though they were in touch constantly, she missed them dreadfully. It was the one downside to living in New York, but it was a big one.

‘But I think it’ll be good for us,’ she said to Gina. ‘And next year, it’ll be my turn and I can take him to Dingle.’

‘Lucky Greg! Your folks are so great. I bet Christmas is a hoot with them.’ Gina had met Mary’s family when they’d come to visit her.

‘It is fun,’ Mary said wistfully.

‘Well, if it were me, I’d happily go to Dingle with you every year and never spend another Christmas with my folks.’

Mary smiled sympathetically. She knew Gina’s parents were constantly at war, and family occasions were marked by endless bickering, shouting matches and tense atmospheres.

‘That’d work for me. Such a shame you’re not my type.’

‘I know! We’d be so great together.’

‘We are great together.’

‘But not in the sack.’ Gina drummed her fingers on the table. ‘We could give celibacy a go?’

They looked at each other for a long moment, then burst out laughing simultaneously.

‘Nah.’

‘Nope. Not happening.’

‘I’m afraid we’re stuck with trying to make a go of it with men. But you definitely have to come to Dingle sometime.’ Gina, a freckle-faced Chicagoan, had been Mary’s first New York friend. They’d started in the same week at the recruitment agency where they both worked.

‘I’d love that,’ Gina said as their food arrived.

‘So you and Greg are… good?’ Gina asked warily when the waiter had moved away.

Mary nodded. ‘Yeah.’ She toyed with her glass, considering whether she wanted to tell Gina what she’d found at Greg’s apartment the other day.

She dreaded admitting it out loud – she didn’t even like acknowledging it to herself in her own head.

But at the same time, it would be a relief to tell someone.

It might make it feel less of a big deal if she could casually tell Gina about it over lunch – just a funny anecdote she could share with a friend.

‘I found something the other day when I was looking for a phone charger at Greg’s place.’

Gina raised her recently sculpted eyebrows questioningly.

‘It was this poem he’d written. About her. Juanita.’

‘A poem? Greg?’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Mary said with a wry smile.

‘But… Greg’s a lawyer!’ Gina spluttered. ‘What business has he got writing poems?’

Mary shrugged. ‘I guess love does funny things to people.’ She did a double take as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Had she just said that her boyfriend was in love with someone else?

But no – she’d simply acknowledged that he used to be in love with Juanita.

Which was fine. Everyone had history at their age.

‘Oh my God!’ Gina placed a flat palm on her chest. ‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing. I mean, it’s not as if it was recent. It was in an old notebook that obviously hadn’t been used for a long time.’

‘What was it called? “Ode to Juanita”?’

Mary took a sip of wine and cleared her throat.

‘It was called: “Reasons to Stay”. Her name wasn’t in it at all, but it was obviously about her.

’ There had been references to her dark eyes and hair, her foreign accent, and a litany of memories that could only have been moments they’d shared.

Because of dancing under the stars on the Staten Island Ferry, had been one line that stuck in Mary’s head.

Greg had never danced on the Staten Island Ferry with her.

It had obviously been written when Juanita had decided to return to El Salvador and he’d been trying to persuade her to stay in the US…

to stay with him. The last line was: Because I’ll be lost without you.

The most disturbing thing about it for Mary was that she didn’t recognise the Greg she knew in it.

She couldn’t imagine him writing something so romantic and heartfelt, so full of yearning.

‘Wow, that’s…’ Gina shook her head expressively. ‘It’s pretty crappy of him to leave it lying around like that.’

‘It was buried at the bottom of a drawer. He probably doesn’t even remember it’s there.’

‘Was it any good?’

‘I don’t know.’ Mary twisted linguine around her fork. ‘I was too busy being creeped out by it to do a critique.’

‘But it was old, right?’ Gina said, clearly trying to minimise it. ‘Like you said, love makes fools of us all.’

‘Or poets of us all?’

‘Same thing?’

Mary laughed.

‘The point is, it’s from another time. Before he met you.’

‘Yes, exactly. He’s moved on.’ Had he, though? A niggling voice in her head reminded her of his meltdown when he’d heard Juanita was getting married.

‘And so has she,’ Gina said firmly. ‘Isn’t her wedding soon?’

‘Yeah, on Christmas Eve.’ Mary rolled her eyes.

‘That’s such a dick move, making Christmas all about her.’

‘And I can’t believe she invited Greg. That’s just cruel.

’ Greg claimed he and Juanita were still friends and there was nothing weird about the invitation.

But Mary didn’t think someone who really cared about Greg would want to rub his nose in it like that.

‘I think she likes the idea of Greg still pining for her, even when she’s marrying someone else and clearly not pining for him. ’

‘She sounds like a right narcissist.’

‘At least he had enough self-respect to say no. And when we get back from Maine, Juanita will be a married woman and the ghost of that particular girlfriend past will be laid to rest once and for all.’ It was another reason Mary was happy to go to Greg’s family with him for Christmas.

There’d be no chance of him relapsing and sneaking off to Juanita’s wedding at the last minute.

He’d finally have closure and they could have a fresh start in the new year.

What did it say about their relationship, though, that she felt he needed policing like that?

She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head.

Of course he didn’t – she was being paranoid.

‘I just hope his parents like me.’

‘Of course they will. What’s not to like? Besides, you’re with Greg. They’ll automatically love you for seeing how awesome their precious son is.’