Laced

“Why, of course.”

They descended the stairs to the main floor and walked out to the festively decorated tent where guests were already mingling. Tables were covered with lace tablecloths and bouquets of flowers. Onstage a harpist was playing. May Reilly’s tablecloth was on display in the center of the room in a new glass case.

Regan and Jack accepted glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and looked around the room. They said hello to the Sharkey family who were glowing with excitement.

Seamus Sharkey was thrilled to have been an integral part in an international police investigation. He had been on television and radio, and was written up in the newspapers. “All my work finally amounted to something,” he said. “I’m ready to die now.”

“Stop that talk!” his wife admonished. “We have a lot of living to do.”

Seated in the corner, Linda and Brad Thompson were still behaving like newlyweds. She rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, nibbled his ear, and stroked his back.

“How come you don’t do that to me in public?” Jack asked Regan with a wry smile.

Regan laughed. “Somehow I don’t think you’d want me to.”

Dermot and Margaret appeared in the doorway, holding hands. Margaret looked elegant in a new silk pantsuit. She’d had her hair and makeup done at the spa in the castle courtesy of Neil Buckley and had obviously found a new dentist. Her smile was brilliant.

“I knew that whoever created that painting had to be special,” a smitten Dermot had told her. “I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.”

A still contrite Sheila and Brian were in their wake. Lucky for them that Dermot and Margaret had hit it off. It was the only reason they were somewhat forgiven. But Dermot wasn’t going to let them off the hook completely. He had vehemently suggested that when they got back to Arizona, the O’Sheas spend at least ten hours every week for the next six months on community service projects.

“You were taking advantage of this wonderful talented lady,” Dermot had chastised them.

“From now on, I want the respect you gave your aunt Eileen,” Margaret added with a twinkle in her eyes.

Felicity, Neil Buckley’s wife, floated by and said hello to Regan and Jack. She obviously had had a couple of glasses of champagne. “You haven’t seen any ghosts around here, have you?” she asked them with a wink.

“What do you mean?” Regan asked.

“Let’s just say I help Neil keep this place intriguing,” she said as she floated off again.

Is she the woman I saw on the lawn? Regan wondered.

“Regan! Jack!”

They turned at the sound of Gerard’s voice. He and Louise were standing at the entrance to the tent. “We have a little surprise for you,” he said, then turned and called out, “Come on in. It’s all right.”

Looking sheepish, Luke and Nora appeared from around the corner.

“Mom! Dad!” Regan said when she saw them. She and Jack hurried over.

“We didn’t want to interrupt your honeymoon,” Nora explained, “but Dad thought it would be nice to bid on one of the Claddagh rings.”

“I thought it would be nice?” Luke asked with amusement.

Nora ignored him. “We’re staying with Gerard and promise we won’t call or bother you. We just thought it would be fun to be at the auction…and then they moved it to where you’re staying and-”

“Don’t worry about it, Nora,” Jack said. “We’ve been sharing our honeymoon with a lot worse!”

They all laughed.

Several hours later, after a delicious di

The Reillys-Regan, Jack, Luke, Nora, Gerard, and Louise, were all sitting together. And there was another Reilly in attendance as well…at least in spirit.

Carol Higgins Clark