An Irish Christmas Part 13

"Seriously?"

She took a sip of punch, then nodded.

"How did you know?"

"For starters, I'd have to swear you to secrecy."

I held up my fingers in the old pledge. "Scout's honor."

"Can I really trust you?"

"Yes," I urged. "Now tell me what it is that you've known for years."

She let out a big sigh. "That if Colleen ever walked back into Liam's life . . . well, let me just say that I've always known that he never quit loving her."

"And you're okay with that?"

She nodded with misty eyes. "Liam is a very good friend. How could I not be happy for him? Colleen was the love of his life and he thought he'd lost her forever." Then she threw her arms around me. "And you, young man, are one of the most amazing young musicians that I've had the pleasure to meet. Has your father talked to you about attending university here in Galway yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well, he should!"

17.

Colleen On the day after Christmas, also Saint Stephen's Day and an Irish holiday, I stood in the relatively quiet Dublin airport by myself. I felt surprisingly torn about leaving Ireland. But I felt even more torn that I was leaving my son behind. Of course, I was glad that he wanted to finish college, even if it was in Galway, halfway around the globe from our home in Pasadena. And I'd been especially touched when he told me that he also planned to get a job. "I want to pay you back for what I wasted on my phony education," he told me over breakfast yesterday. Now my first instinct had been to say no and that the debt was forgiven and not to worry about it, but on second thought, I wondered if this was something he needed to do-another step in becoming a man and a responsible adult. So I bit my tongue and hid my motherly pride.

But I missed Jamie more than ever just now as I waited to board my plane. The idea of going home-alone like this-was overwhelming and nothing I had ever imagined when I started this trip, oh, a lifetime ago. Still, I reminded myself, it was time for me to accept my independence. I didn't need anyone to hold my hand. I was a grown woman and perfectly capable of carrying my own bags, sitting on a plane by myself, catching a taxi back to the house, making plans for my future . . . even if that meant I would be the only one in the picture. And, after all, I did have G.o.d to lean on. I wasn't really alone.

"But what about Liam?" Jamie had demanded in my room just last night, right after I'd informed him of my plans to go home on the regularly scheduled flight. For some reason he'd gotten the idea that, like him, I planned to extend my visit.

"What about Liam?" I had calmly asked as I carefully packed my bags.

"He loves you," he said. "Don't you love him?"

I smiled patiently at my son. I knew he meant well. "This really isn't your problem, Jamie."

"But I saw you kissing on Christmas Eve," he confessed.

I blinked back surprise. "You were spying on us?"

He nodded sheepishly. "Sort of. I mean I hadn't meant to, but I did see you two together. And it looked pretty obvious that you were both in love."

"I'd had too much of that Irish punch," I told him. "I was impaired."

"That wasn't the case, Mom."

"Jamie, I know it's every child's hope that his parents would be in love and stay in love and that everyone would live happily ever after, but it can't always be like that."

"But Liam does love you."

I studied Jamie closely. "How do you know that? Has he told you that?"

"No, he hasn't said that, not in so many words. But I know it's true. I have my reasons to believe it's true. You have to trust me on this, Mom."

I turned my attention to the folding of my red velvet dress, the same dress I'd been wearing that night. And I had to admit that I had felt that way too. I had honestly believed that Liam did still love me-especially on Christmas Eve, when we had kissed. But he had never said so. Consequently, I hadn't told him how I felt either. Although it seemed obvious that night-to me anyway. But then Jamie and I had left. And then there was the next day. And there was Margaret.

On Christmas Day, when we got together with Liam and some of his friends again, he privately admitted to me that Margaret had been in his life for years-and even that she had recently been pushing him toward marriage. He seemed very confused and uncomfortable with all this. He didn't say it, but I felt that I was an interruption, a distraction, and an inconvenience. And, after all, Liam had known Margaret much longer than he'd known me-they'd spent years and years together. Simply because Liam and I had made a son together didn't mean that we were meant to be together. And then I'd seen how compatible he and Margaret appeared to be-so much in common with their music, their lives, and Ireland. And she was so beautiful. How was I supposed to compete with that?

"You can't leave, Mom."

"I'm sorry." I turned and faced him with a firm chin. "But I have to go home. For one thing, I have the house on the market, and the last time I spoke to the realtor, right before Christmas, she thought she had a buyer for it."

"Great," he said. "Sell the house. But why do you have to go home to do that?"

"It's the mature and responsible thing to do," I explained as I rolled a pair of stockings.

And so, as I stood there so carefully dressed in my suit with matching shoes and handbag, waiting for my flight to begin loading, I thought I was being remarkably responsible and mature. Or at least I looked that way. Despite how I felt inside, I wasn't crying or fretting or fuming or any other childish thing. I was simply waiting to get on my plane and go home. And, once I got home, I would begin to sort out my life again. Perhaps the house would be sold by then. Maybe I would find that little cottage near the beach after all. And who knew, I might even get a job. The possibilities were endless.

"Colleen?"

I didn't turn at the sound of his voice. Not immediately, anyway. But my stomach grew fluttery and there was a catch in my throat as I slowly pivoted and faced him.

"Liam." I studied his eyes, trying to read what was behind them. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is it Jamie?"

He took a tentative step toward me. "Jamie is fine."

"Oh . . ."

"It's Jamie's father who is having trouble."

"Jamie's father?"

"Yes, Colleen. I am perfectly miserable."

"Oh . . ."

"I can't let you go like this."

"Like what?"

"I can't let you go without telling you the truth first."

I nodded now, bracing myself for the worst. Perhaps he and Margaret had gotten engaged last night, after Jamie and I had left. Perhaps Liam felt that the mature thing for him to do was to come here and tell me this news in person. Maybe Jamie had said something to make Liam think that I would need to know. "Yes?" I heard my voice shaking.

"I love you, Colleen."

I blinked, then stared, unable to speak. Had I heard him correctly?

"I never quit loving you."

"But why didn't you say something . . ."

He held out his cane. "I don't like to talk about it, Colleen. It's hard to admit . . . but being a man with one leg, well, it's not been easy. To be honest, it's probably one of the main reasons I never asked Margaret to marry."

I sucked in a quick breath. "So, you would've asked her?"

He nodded then sighed. "Yes. I probably would've."

"Why don't you ask her now?"

"Because I don't love her. Not like this."

"Oh . . ."

"I love you, Colleen." He peered at me with those intense blue eyes. "And are you going to just hang me out to dry now? Do you have nothing to say?"

I took a step toward him, our eyes still locked. "I love you too, Liam. I always have. I always will. I never quit loving you."

Then he took me into his arms and held me tight. "Please, don't go."

"But I need to take care of things back home," I began meekly. But suddenly he was kissing me, his lips pressed into mine with pa.s.sion and intensity-the kind I had longed for since that November of 1941. And in that moment I felt both lost and found, and without holding back, I returned his kiss.

"Please, don't go," he said again. "Stay here and marry me, Colleen."

I almost said no, not now. I almost told him that I needed to go back to Pasadena and that I needed to take care of business-that I needed to be a grown-up and to sell my house, that I needed to store my furniture, that I needed to tell my sister the good news, and I almost told him that we should wait-but I stopped myself.

"Yes!" I said with excitement. "I will stay here and I will marry you!"

His brows shot up with surprise. "You will? You really will?"

"Of course! You don't think I'm going to make the same mistake twice, do you? I'm not taking any chances this time. Yes, I will marry you! "

Then he took my right hand in his and carefully removed the silver ring that Jamie had given me for Christmas.

"What?" I frowned and felt slightly worried.

"Now you must wear the Claddagh like this." He took my left hand and slipped the ring onto my ring finger with the point of the heart aiming toward me. "Worn like this means your heart is taken."

I nodded. "You took it long ago, Liam."

"Let's go get married!" he said as he pulled me close for another long kiss.

"You just name the day and the time, and I will gladly marry you, Liam O'Neil."

"Let's go round up a preacher." He grinned down at me. "And I know a certain young man-a man who's waiting outside in my car right this minute-who will be extremely happy to hear about this."

I grabbed Liam's hand. "Let's go tell him!"

Melody Carlson is the prolific author of more than 200 books, including fiction, nonfiction, and gift books for adults, young adults, and children. She is also the author of Three Days, The Gift of Christmas Present, and The Christmas Bus. Her writing has won several awards, including a Gold Medallion for King of the Stable (Crossway, 1998) and a Romance Writers of America Rita Award for Homeward (Multnomah, 1997). She lives with her husband in Sisters, Oregon. Visit her website at www.melodycarlson.com.

Sometimes miracles come in

unexpected packages.

Through three beautifully crafted stories of Christmas grace, Giver of Gifts reveals what it means to give-and live- with a generous and gracious heart.

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