“You speak funny.” She eyes me like I’m an alien species she’d love to examine.
“Grace is from America,” Ash explains.
Chloe’s eyes pop wide. “You’re from Disneyland?” she squeals, almost jumping out of Ash’s arms. “I’m going to Disneyland after my mommy and daddy marry. On our moonhoney.”
Laughter reverberates around the room. “It’s honeymoon, little munchkin,” Shane says, standing and coming around the table. He lifts his daughter from Ash’s arms. “And Disneyland is only one tiny, tiny part of America.” Shane hoists her onto one hip, pinning me with a smile. “I’m Shane. Nice to meet ya, Grace.”
Ash introduces me to the others then. The guy with the reddish-brown hair is her other brother Ciarán. He works for Microsoft as an IT programmer. The pretty brunette sitting beside him is his long-term girlfriend Susie. She’s a local hairdresser. She talks so fast I struggle to understand a word she says, but she’s smiley and pleasant and welcoming. Ash’s dad Eugene gives me a firm handshake, before returning to his paper. Ash giggles, mouthing “I told you” as she deposits big bowls heaving with meat and vegetables in the center of the table.
“Now we all know one another, let’s sit.” Cath ushers everyone to the table.
“You can sit beside me,” Ronan says, pulling out a chair for me.
Ash rolls her eyes. “Knock it off, Casanova. Grace is my friend, so she’s sitting beside me.”
“This is like being back at school,” Shane says. “Why aren’t you staking your claim, Dil?”
“Shut up, Shane,” Dillon replies, slathering lashings of butter on a piece of brown bread. “That’s enough shit stirring for one day.”
“Boys. I won’t tolerate this at the dinner table,” Cath says, her stern gaze bouncing between both her sons. “Zip it. Now.”
“You heard your mother,” Eugene says, reluctantly setting his paper aside.
I end up seated between Ash and Ro with Dillon across from me. Oh joy. Dillon’s searing-hot gaze drills into me as his mother places a loaded plate in front of me.
“Jesus, Ma.” Ciarán shakes his head. “There’s enough on that plate to feed two grown men.”
“Better to be too much than too little,” she says, finishing handing out plates.
My eyes are on stalks at the mountain of food on the table. The bowls in the middle are clearly the infamous second helpings I’ve heard about. I’ve no idea how Cath expects me to eat even a quarter of what is on my plate, but I’ll do my best, as I don’t want to insult her.
Conversation flows freely around the table as we tuck into the gorgeous roast beef dinner. Shane proudly tells me the beef and vegetables all came from the farm, and you can definitely taste the difference. It’s absolutely delicious. The meat is succulent and melts in my mouth—testament to Cath’s impressive cooking skills. Ash clearly inherited her mom’s talent in the kitchen, and I’ve been content to let her cook every night at our apartment when she offers because my skills are limited in the extreme.
When I compliment the gorgeous colorful bouquet holding court in an ornate vase in the center of the table, Cath informs me the mix of narcissi, roses, and sweet pea all came from their greenhouse. I tell them my mom is a great gardener and we have a rose garden back home. The discussion naturally moves to the flowers Fiona has chosen for her forthcoming nuptials and then into more general wedding conversation.
“How are the wedding plans coming along?” Ash asks her.
“Good,” she says, in between mouthfuls of her dinner. “Although I’m a little concerned about the bridesmaids’ dresses. They were shipped from New York three weeks ago, and they still haven’t arrived.”
“I’m sure they’ll arrive any day now, hon.” Shane squeezes his fiancée’s shoulder. “Try not to worry.”
“You should see them,” Ash says, turning to me. “They are the most gorgeous jade-green color.” Ash eyeballs her future sister-in-law. “Grace designs and makes dresses. She made that dress she’s wearing, and she’s making our gowns for the Trinity Ball.”
“Get out! Your dress is gorgeous. I can’t believe you made it yourself,” Susie says, running an admiring eye up and down my floral-print skater dress. It’s pink with a black trim and matching belt, and I teamed it with a white cardigan and black ballet flats.
“I used to make all of Aisling’s dresses when she was a little girl,” Cath reminisces. “I’ve still got my old Singer around here someplace.”
“I have a Singer back at my house in L.A.,” I admit.
“What’s L.A. like?” Ciarán asks. “Microsoft asked me to spend a couple of weeks in their Santa Monica offices on training, and I’ll be leaving a few days after the wedding.”
“Santa Monica is pretty. The beaches are gorgeous, and you’ll have to visit the pier.”
“Is it true it’s hot there all the time?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yep. There are lots of things I love about Ireland, but the cold weather definitely isn’t one of them,” I admit.
“Is it true all the women have fake boobs and blonde hair?” Cath asks, earning a round of titters from the table. “What?” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “I watched thatSelling Sunseton Netflix, and all the women look like that!”