Page 104 of Road Trip
Their appetizers arrived and the sisters paused to admire the exquisite presentation: herbs fashioned into tiny wreaths, lemons and oranges sliced into the thinnest pinwheels, nasturtium blossoms scattered across swirls of sauces.
Maeve took out her phone and snapped half a dozen frames. “So I don’t forget our fanciest dinner in Ireland.”
“We’ll probably be eating DoorDash pizza in our airport hotel room when we get to Dublin. If they even have that over here,” Therese said.
When they’d finished their entrées, they waved away the dessert cart and were sipping cappuccinos when Luke and Angela Grogan approached the table.
“Ladies!” Luke said, his voice booming in the small room. Heads turned, then people smiled and went back to their dinners. “I hope your dinner was as grand as ours.”
“It was an amazing last supper,” Therese said.
“Last supper? How can that be? You’re not leaving us already, are you?”
Angela tugged at the sleeve of her husband’s jacket. “Darling, Liam told us she and her sister were heading home this week. Remember?”
Maeve wanted to change the subject. “Luke, Angela, this is my sister, Therese Dunagin.”
“Hi there,” Therese said. “Thanks again for the gorgeous champagne. It was a beautiful ending to the most memorable week of our lives, right, Maeve?”
“Exactly,” Maeve said. “And having lunch with the Grogan clan made it even more special. Thanks again for your hospitality.”
“But not special enough to extend your stay, eh? I know our boy Liam is broken up about that,” Luke boomed.
Angela elbowed her husband in the ribs. “Hush now, you big lunk. Can’t you see you’re embarrassing this poor girl?”
Maeve’s face was, indeed, as pink as the tablecloth.
“But it’s the truth,” Luke protested. “He’s mad about the girl, I tell you.”
“Lucas Grogan!” Angela exclaimed. “No more whiskey for you.”
She addressed the sisters. “Word to the wise: contrary to popular opinion, not every Irishman can hold their whiskey. Exhibit A is right here. This one could empty a case of Guinness and still be standing at the end of the night. But give him a couple drams of good Irish whiskey, and the next thing you know, he’s acting a proper fool.”
“Am not,” Luke said.
Angela held out her hand. “Give me the car keys, sir, or you’ll be sleeping in the goat pen tonight.”
“Aww, Angie,” Luke said, but he fished the keys out of his pocket and handed them over.
“Maeve, Therese, be sure and come back soon,” Angela said as she began to shepherd her husband toward the exit. She stopped momentarily, leaned in, and whispered in Maeve’s ear.
“I’m not supposed to say anything, but I know for a fact that Liam is gutted that you’re leaving. He’s a good man, Maeve. Don’t let him slip away.”
“Bye now,” Therese said.
“What did she just whisper to you?” she demanded when the couple were out the door.
“Nothing,” Maeve said. “We need to get back to the inn. Thatwalk’s gonna seem longer now that we’ve a bottle of champagne in us.” She caught a passing server’s eye. “Could you please let our server know we’re ready for our check now.”
“I will, yes, ma’am, but Mr. Grogan there, he’s already taken care of it,” the server said.
“I really like this family. Like, a lot,” Therese said, swaying just a bit as she got to her feet. “If you don’t marry them, I will.”
“Good Lord, you’re drunk too,” Maeve said, shaking her head.
“You don’t get drunk on good champagne,” Therese corrected her. “You get tipsy. Or tiddly. Much classier, don’t you think?”
CHAPTER 45
