Chapter 13
It was as if the day had decided that it would be perfect. The sky was a clear cobalt blue that reminded her of the color of her lover's eyes. A few puffy white clouds enhanced the brilliance. Even though it was officially October, the air was a balmy seventy degrees with only a slight wind.
The wedding was set for the early afternoon. She had opened her eyes at eight to find Maeve bearing a tray. Oscar had been banished to one of the other rooms, despite his very vigorous protest.
"The bride needs to be fresh as a daisy for her wedding day. The wedding night will be more special for the abstinence."
"I wasn't going to touch her." He muttered, flushing slightly at the sage look his mother gave him. "Just hold her. That's all. I find it difficult to sleep without her. And she feels the same."
"Nice try darling. Now go on about your business. I believe Eric and your dad has something in store for you at the pub."
He had kissed her and left reluctantly. "I'll check in before I go to bed."
"No." His mother intervened firmly. "The ladies will be having their own entertainment. I will make certain Kiara gets her rest. She will be turning in early. Big day tomorrow. One would think you cannot be without her for a minute."
"I'm going, aren't I?"
"Good." Maeve kissed him on both cheeks. "Have fun. We intend to do just that."
And it had been fun. Both Irene and Maeve had prepared delicious finger foods.
There had been outrageous gifts, lingerie with holes in them and some so frivolous and thin, there were almost non-existent.
Her mother had not turned up, even though she had received an invitation, saying stiffly that she would be at the wedding.
"I'm sure my presence will not be needed."
She was not missed. The women, including her soon to be sister in law, had made the night special, telling stories about Oscar when he was growing up.
"He used to run wild in the hills of Kinsale." Maeve recalled whimsically, a glass of Irish whiskey in her hand. "We had sheep back then and he would do his best to do the shearing of them."
"How did that go?" Kiara had to settle for non-alcoholic beverage.
"Terrible." Mary Margaret remarked with a laugh. "He caught one once and mangled the poor animal so badly, it had to go into hiding."
"He was always a precocious child." Maeve's beautiful eyes were sheened with tears. "I would nag him about finding a nice girl and start giving me grandchildren."
"And he would always answer the same." Mary Margaret reminded her.
"That when he meets the right one, he would know, right away." Maeve turned her gaze on Kiara. "He was right as usual. We could not have asked for a better wife for our Oscar."
"Now, you're going to make me tear up." Kiara sniffed.
"We fell in love with you the first time my son mentioned you." Maeve reached out and clasped her hand. "We were never disappointed."
Now standing in front of the mirror, she gazed at her image in wonder. The dress was light, a floaty ice blue, near to the color of Oscar's eyes. The top was figure hugging, the sleeves long and sheer. The skirt billowed from the waist to below her knees, effectively concealing her baby bump.
Diamonds and sapphires glittered at her lobes and around her throat, a gift from Oscar. The braids had been removed a few days ago and Brian had worked his usual magic. Her natural hair had been shampooed and deep conditioned and treated.
It was swept back from her face, highlighting her narrow face and sharply etched cheekbones. The style was an intricate knot, with tendrils floating down her cheeks. Delicate buds were intertwined at the front. Her makeup was flawless, leaving her face glowing.
"Oh, my darling girl!"
Kiara turned at the sound of Maeve's voice. The smile blooming faded as she noticed the woman standing behind the woman.
"Mama."
"She wanted to come up and see you." Maeve sent her a reassuring smile as she walked in and embraced her. "She appears contrite." She whispered, kissing her cheeks. "You have ten minutes before my son comes tearing upstairs to find out what's keeping his bride."
Dr. Victoria Landan, looking resplendent and handsome in purple silk, walked forward stiffly, eyes wandering over her daughter's attire and lingering on the stones at her lobes and throat.
"I thought you would want something borrowed." Digging into her small reticule, she brought out an embroidered handkerchief. "Your father gave it to me on our wedding day." A smile ghosted her lips. "I'm sure he would want you to have it."
Tears blinded her eyes and had her turning away. She could not help but wished that it was her dad standing here, instead of a woman who had made her life a living hell since she could remember.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned around and nodded soberly. "Thanks. I need to finish getting ready."
"I understand. I know we have had our differences--" Her daughter's snort of disbelief had her mouth tightening.
"We've been at odds and it's my fault." Victoria clasped her hands in front of her. "I want to be part of those babies lives. I want to try and be part of yours." She loosened her hands and clasped them again.
"I did love your father. At first. I did love him, but then I became pregnant."
"And you didn't want a child."
"No." She shook her head. "It wasn't the right time for it and I--" She pursed her lips. "It doesn't matter. You make a lovely bride."
"Thanks. Now I really have to go, I cannot be late for my own wedding."
"Of course." She turned towards the door and then turned back around. "I want us to try and have a relationship Kiara."
Kiara wondered at the fact that she felt nothing, when for most of her life until recently she had hoped and prayed desperately that her mother would reach out to her.
"We'll see. I'm glad you could make it."
Victoria nodded, feeling the shaft of pain settling inside her.
She had spent nights regretting her behavior and the fact that she had turned away from her own daughter.
She had been having some weird dreams of her husband and his disapproval of her had been so palpable, she could swear he was in the same room with her.
"I'll see you downstairs." She left and close the doors quietly behind her and just stood there for a few minutes, trying to get her bearings.
Kiara paused, the weight of recent words lingering in the air.
She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves swirling within her.
The soft light from the window caught the shimmer of her dress, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine the future unfolding.
A new family, new beginnings, and the possibility of healing old wounds.
She squared her shoulders, determined to step forward with grace, no matter what came next.
"I'm sure Kiara will be okay." Maeve placed a hand on her son's shoulder, partly to hold him there and for comfort. "She said she just wanted to talk to her daughter and she has that right."
His expression was grim. "Not after what she put her through. I should go up--"
"No." Maeve turned him to face her and started fiddling with his tie. "How handsome you look." Her eyes were moist. "And how proud I am of you." She brushed at an invisible lint on his left shoulder.
Stepping back, she admired the classic black tux that brought out the sheen in his hair. A sprig of gardenia was tucked into the lapel.
"You have made me a very happy woman."
"I'm sure I have. Ah mom, please don't cry." He searched and found a handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket of his jacket and dabbed at her cheeks.
"I'm entitled to shed tears when my only son is getting married." She took his hands in hers and smiled. "Plus, you're giving me two grandbabies."
He laughed softly, a nervous edge in his voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath his calm exterior. "I just want everything to go right for her today," he admitted, glancing toward the staircase as if willing Kiara to appear. "She deserves that much."
Maeve squeezed his shoulder gently, her smile reassuring, and together they lingered in the quiet moment, grounding themselves before the whirlwind of the ceremony would sweep them along.
"You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. Please don't tell my Maeve, she'd skin me alive." Padric grinned as he tucked her hand through his arm and squeezed her fingers.
"My lips are sealed." Her eyes glowed as she looked up at him. Her heart turned over at the bemused look on his lined face and the love shining there.
"I regret not having my dad here, but there is no one I would rather have walking me down the aisle than you."
The blush staining his wide face had her leaning against him.
"You're my daughter, I hope you know how much Maeve and I love you."
"I do. Thanks."
Patting her hand, he cleared his throat. "Now let's go before that son of mine sends out the search party."
As the music drifted softly from the hall below, Kiara glanced once more at her reflection, searching for comfort in the steady rhythm of her own breath.
She could hear the faint hum of voices and laughter, signaling that the world outside was moving forward, ready for celebration.
With each step toward the door, she felt the past loosening its grip, replaced by the promise of hope and the warmth of family waiting for her arrival.
He gazed at the familiar faces scattered with those of those who had flown in from Ireland for the ceremony.
The ceremony was being held on the grounds of his home, but the reception was going to be at the recently opened pub.
It had been Kiara's idea to have an Irish setting for their wedding, and it had pleased his family.
White chairs dotted the lawn, with flowers twined between the slots. The air was redolent of freshly cut grass and flowers in full bloom. It might have been fall, but the weather had a spring like feel to it that cooled the skin.