Imagine With Me (With Me in Seattle 15)

I’ve been here for exactly thirty days.

“Of course, we were,” Maggie says. “How is the script coming along?”

“I’m almost finished.”

“Wow, we were extra right this time,” Maeve says.

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

“Say hi to Ma and Da for us,” Maggie says. “And Kane and Stasia, too.”

“I will. You know, you’re both welcome to come out here anytime. There’s more than enough room.”

“Soon,” Maeve says. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. Tell Keegan the same, will you?”

“Sure. Bye!”

I hang up and grab a jacket from a nearby chair. My room at the inn owned by some cousins of mine is more than comfortable, but it’s a little on the small side. Which means, after being here for a month, I’m about to bust out of it.

I have too much crap. Clothes are scattered here and there, shoes on the floor, and the small vanity in the bathroom is covered with my razor and all of the other things a guy uses in the jack.

These rooms are comfortable but not meant to house a person for thirty-plus days.

But I don’t regret being here. Not at all.

Coming here was the right thing to do. I’ve been able to have tunnel vision and focus on my project. Is it because of the extra few thousand miles between Lexi and me? Maybe. But no matter the reason, I’m grateful for it. I needed the reprieve from thoughts of her.

I needed to catch my breath.

And I’ve done that in Ireland.

I hurry down a set of steps, move through the lobby, and meet Kane and Da on the front steps of the inn.

“Sorry, I was talking with Mary Margaret and Maeve, and those two never shut up.”

“They have a gift for gab, they do,” Da agrees with a happy nod. “Let’s get on then, shall we?”

“What are we doing, anyway?” I ask, not sure what my father has up his sleeve for this afternoon. All I know is I was to meet him, along with Kane, at three.

“There’s something I want you to see,” Kane says, leading the way down the lane. We’re on foot, so it must not be far away.

“Did you buy more property here?” I ask.

“No, not yet. Although, Anastasia has her eye on a pretty little cottage down the way that I might get her for Christmas.”

I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. “You have more money than God himself.”

“No, just enough to spoil my bride,” Kane says.

“As it should be,” Da adds. “And it’s proud I am of all my successful children. Every parent wants their child to have a better lot in life than they had. Now, your sainted mother and I did just fine. Just fine, indeed. But we struggled, and that’s the truth of it. So to see all of our children love what they do, and make a pretty penny at it besides, it fills our hearts with pure joy.”

Kane leads us to the barn on our uncle’s property that houses a kiln and all the tools he needs to turn his glass. He rarely shows us his pieces, so whatever he wants to show us must be extra special.

He rolls up the old-fashioned door and flicks on a light. Lined on shelves are pieces of glass in all sizes and colors. They’re absolutely gorgeous.

“Is this for the exhibit in Galway next month?” I ask as I approach one piece in particular that catches my eye. It looks like two figures, a woman and a man, entangled in an intimate embrace.

It reminds me of Lexi.

“It is,” Kane says. “We put off the exhibition for more than a year so I could fine-tune it and build the right pieces. Coming to Ireland early was the right call.”

“It’ll be a Christmas exhibit?” I ask.

“Mid-December through Valentine’s Day,” my brother replies and turns to Da, who’s standing a few feet away, taking it all in. “What do you think?”

Our father shakes his head and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “I think there couldn’t be a man in the world as proud as I. These pieces are lovely, Kane.”

“I think so,” Kane says, turning a critical eye back to his work. “I think the curator will be happy, and they should fetch a nice amount of money.”

“Money or no money, you’ve done something extraordinary.”

“Thank you. I also wanted to tell the both of you, privately, some happy news. Anastasia is expecting.”

I don’t know that I’ve ever seen my father’s face shine so brightly as he beams at my brother now.

“That’s the best bloody news I’ve ever heard,” Da says.

“Congratulations,” I add. “When are you going to tell the others?”

“I told Ma this morning. She was bursting at the seams to shout it from the rooftops, but I made her promise to let me do the telling. I’ll call the others in a bit. I wish we were all together for the news, but that’s okay.”