Chapter Ten #2
“Not quite yet, love.” Eileen comes up behind me with the veil gathered in her hands and settles the Juliet cap over my hair. Mam passes her the hairpins, and together they pin the cap in place and smooth the lace until the veil falls straight down my back.
The door opens just as they finish, and Maggie walks back in wearing the deep green maid-of-honour dress we chose together, fitted at the waist with a full skirt falling just below her knees. When she sees me, her grin spreads. “All right,” she says. “Now we’re ready.”
“Wait,” I say softly. “There’s one more thing.
” I cross the room and pick up the small box from Ireland that arrived last month after I wrote to Grandda and Grandmam one last time, asking for everyone to come to my wedding.
Grandda still said no. To him, Boston will always be a betrayal, and no letter from me will ever change that.
I told myself I understood, but it still hurt knowing no one from home would be there today when I married Ronin.
But they had sent me this.
I open the box and lift out a pair of earrings, each with a small pearl at the top and a deep green emerald hanging beneath it. The green is so familiar it makes my chest ache, like they’ve sent me a small piece of home to wear today.
I slip them into my ears and picture Grandmam beside me, kissing my cheek and telling me I look beautiful. When I look back at my reflection, the emeralds catch the light beneath the lace of my veil, and I can almost feel her here. I meet Maggie’s eyes in the mirror. “Now we’re ready.”
Maggie nods and goes to the doorway, calling downstairs, “Uncle Seamus? We’re coming down.”
Together, we move into the hall. At the top of the stairs, I gather my skirt with one hand and take hold of the banister with the other. We start down slowly, the house quiet around us, every sound seeming louder: the rustle of fabric, the click of heels, even my own breath.
Da is waiting at the bottom in a charcoal-grey suit, his tie the same blue as the flowers in my bouquet and a white gardenia pinned to his lapel.
When he sees me, his eyes fill with tears.
He opens his arms, and suddenly I can’t get to him fast enough.
I hurry down the last few steps and straight into them. He holds me tight.
“My Alannah girl,” he says into my hair, his voice rough. When I pull back, he cups my cheek. “You look beautiful, love.”
I reach up and straighten his tie. “You look pretty handsome yourself,” I say softly. “The blue was a good call.”
That gets a small huff of laughter out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiles. “Before I forget.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a worn sixpence, holding it between us. “This was your mam’s,” he says quietly. “She had it in her shoe on our wedding day.”
Before I can say anything, he kneels and unbuckles the strap of my left shoe. I hold on to his shoulder and lift my foot for him as he tucks the coin inside. Now it’s my turn to wear it, to carry it with me when I marry Ronin. He fastens the strap again, then looks up at me. “For luck.”
“Thank you, Da,” I whisper.
He rises and straightens his jacket before offering me his arm.
“All right,” he says. “Let’s get this show on the road.
” I slip my hand into the crook of his arm, and he leads me outside into the warm morning air.
A long black limousine waits at the curb, the chauffeur holding the rear door open.
Da helps me into the back seat and makes sure my train and veil are inside before climbing in beside me.
St. Brigid’s looks beautiful when we arrive. The massive oak doors are propped open, dressed in thick white satin ribbons that flutter in the light breeze. Tall pots of white lilies line the stone steps, and I catch their sweet scent as Da and I make our way inside.
In the foyer, Mrs. Kelly, one of the women from the parish helping with the wedding, hands me my bouquet. It’s heavier than I expected, a cascade of white orchids and lily of the valley with small touches of blue tucked among the blooms.
It’s beautiful. All of it.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn, shocked to see Mick walking into the foyer, still buttoning his suit jacket.
The ceremony is only minutes from starting; he should already be inside, seated with everyone else.
He doesn’t even slow down as he passes us, tipping his chin at me before clapping Da on the back.
“Late night,” he mutters over his shoulder.
As if that excuses him for being this late to my wedding.
“I’m going to sit with Mam.” Before either of us can answer, he pushes through one of the side doors into the church.
I watch the door swing shut behind him, wishing that, just once, my brother would at least pretend to care about me.
I let out a quiet sigh and look ahead again.
A few steps away, Maggie stands beside Danny, her bouquet held in front of her as they wait for their cue to walk down the aisle.
I’d been surprised when Ronin told me Danny would be the one to stand up with him today. I hadn’t realized they were that close.
If this had been a year ago, I would have expected my brother to be standing beside her.
Mick and Ronin were still close then, but somewhere along the way, they grew apart.
Now, whenever I see them together, it’s almost always because of work, and even then, they don’t talk the way they used to.
When I asked Ronin about it once, he only muttered something about people changing, then changed the subject.
Mrs. Kelly takes her place at one of the closed double doors leading into the church, one hand on the handle. Her husband moves to the other, ready to open them with her. “Everyone ready?” she asks.
At the question, my mouth goes dry and my pulse starts to race. I watch Maggie and Danny nod. Beside me, Da does too. It’s time. It’s actually time. It isn’t until Mrs. Kelly says my name that I realize they’re all waiting for me. I nod quickly.
The first notes of the “Bridal Chorus” rise from the organ as the doors open. Maggie and Danny start down the aisle, and I take a step after them, but Da doesn’t move with me. I look back at him. “Da?”
“My Alannah girl,” he says. “I need you to know something before I walk you in there.” He swallows hard before he goes on. “You know my friendship with Cormac is important to me. But I never would’ve agreed to this, not for him, not for anyone, if I didn’t believe you’d be happy with Ronin.”
My vision blurs with tears as I smile up at him. “I know, Da. You don’t have to worry. I’m happy.” My voice catches, so I say it again because I need him to believe me. “I’m so happy.”
Da studies my face for a long moment, making sure I’m not just saying it for his sake. When he sees that I mean it, some of the worry leaves him. “All right, love,” he says, his voice thick as he tucks my hand more securely into the crook of his arm. “Let’s get you to your lad, then.”
The aisle stretches long ahead of us, with more white lilies lining either side.
I hear the rustle of guests turning in the pews as we pass.
I want to look around, to take in the church, the guests, every piece of the day I’ve spent so long imagining, but then my eyes find Ronin at the altar and I can’t bring myself to look away.
He’s so handsome in his dark suit, a white orchid pinned to his lapel.
As we get closer, his gaze sweeps over me before meeting mine, and there’s so much love in his eyes that the last few steps seem to melt away.
When we reach him, Da places my hand in Ronin’s, then kisses my cheek.
“I love you, Alannah girl,” he whispers before taking his seat beside Mam.
Father Sullivan waits until everyone is seated before he begins.
Ronin keeps my hand in his, his thumb brushing over my knuckles while I try to keep up.
The wait for this day felt endless, and I thought it would pass just as slowly once it was finally here.
Instead, the ceremony races by, one part running into the next, and before I know it, Father Sullivan asks us to face each other for the vows.
I look up at Ronin as Father Sullivan gives him the words, sunlight spilling through the stained glass and casting colour across our joined hands.
He holds my gaze when he begins. “I, Ronin Byrne, take thee, Alannah O’Connell, to be my wedded wife.
To have and to hold from this day forward.
” His eyes grow glassy as he continues. “To love, cherish, and to worship, till death us do part.”
His voice catches on the last words, and I feel a few tears run down my cheeks. These are the vows everyone says. I know that. But as I listen to Ronin say them to me, they don’t feel old or borrowed. They feel like they’ve only ever belonged to us.
Then it’s my turn. I take a deep breath, but my voice shakes.
“I, Alannah O’Connell, take thee, Ronin Byrne, to be my wedded husband.
” The word husband comes out with a small sob.
Ronin gives my hand a gentle squeeze, reminding me he’s right there with me.
I clear my throat and keep going. “To have and to hold, from this day forward… to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part.”
Father Sullivan places the rings in our hands. Ronin’s fingers tremble as he slides the gold band onto my finger. It feels lighter than my Claddagh, which I moved to my right hand for today. “With this ring I thee wed,” he says.
I take Ronin’s hand. “With this ring I thee wed,” I say softly as I slip the ring I chose for him onto his finger.
The Celtic knotwork winds around the band, each line crossing into the next with no beginning or end.
I had pictured it on his hand so many times, but now that it’s finally there, all I can think about is what the knot means: his life woven into mine, and mine into his, for the rest of our lives.