Epilogue
QUINN
“Isn’t she beautiful, Gramma? I can’t wait for Kane to see her. I hope he loves her as much as I do!”
Kane’s grandmother, who insists I call her Gramma now, stands beside me in the oversized garage space just outside of town, admiring the exterior paint job recently completed on our brand new food truck.
Shamrocks & Shenanigans, or the S&S food truck for short, is a collaboration Kane and I have been working on for a while now, and it’s just the latest in a series of dreams realized since my return to Pelican Point.
I really enjoy spending time with Eileen.
She’s the only living connection I have to my grandfather and my parents.
Over the last few months, her arthritis has gotten worse, causing her to rely on a cane to get around.
She doesn’t let that dampen her spirit, though.
Her mind is as sharp as a tack, and she’s spent endless hours telling me stories about my grandfather as a boy and a young man.
She’s also told me more than a few about Kane, much to his embarrassment.
When I turn to her to get her reaction to the food truck, I catch her studying me, a twinkle in her eye.
“You’ve got an aura about you, dear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the new food truck is not the only thing you and my Kane have been collaborating on.”
“Gramma! How did you know? I haven’t even told Kane yet! I was planning to tell him tonight!”
“Your secret is safe with me. Irish grandmothers know these things. The fairy spirits are twinkling all around you. She places a hand on my still-flat belly. They’re telling me that your little lucky leprechaun is a girl and she’ll be born on Friday the Thirteenth nine months from now.
The curse will finally be broken for good with the seventh-generation Kavanaugh and O’Brien baby! ”
KANE
Friday, August 13th, 2027
I’m the luckiest man alive. Little did I know when Connor Kavanaugh chased me out of his tavern with a sword, he had a vision for the future. A vision in which the Kavanaughs and O’Briens would finally unite as a family, and a bitter generations-long feud would come to an end.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Kane?”
“She sure is. Just as beautiful as her mother, and with a full head of hair as red as an Irish rose.”
Quinn gives me a tired smile. She’s a warrior, handling the labor and delivery like a champ, while I nearly passed out during the birth of our child.
“Rose. My mother’s name. That’s what we’ll call her. But I’d like her to have a name from your side of the family as well.”
I think about it for a minute and then it comes to me. “My great-grandmother’s name was Nora. How about Nora Rose Kavanaugh-O’Brien?”
“I love it! And I know Gramps loves it, too. I can feel him smiling down on us.”
“We truly have the luck of the Irish.”
“Would you like to hold your daughter?”
My daughter. My heart is bursting with love as I gently take her from Quinn’s arms. As I stroll with her around the hospital room, I shower her with a traditional Irish blessing:
“For each petal on the shamrock,
This brings a wish your way,
Good health, good luck, and happiness,
For today and every day.”