“I just have one more announcement if I may. Well two. One is that we’re serving a round of Guinness for free tonight. One per patron if you’re of age. Sláinte.” I held up my glass in the Irish cheers.
“Sláinte,” echoed through the restaurant.
“St. Patrick’s Day is special. Yes, it is a religious holiday or a drinking one, depending on who you talk to, but it’s also a day where the Irish, those of true Irish descent and those who are Irish in spirit, can celebrate our traditions. For me, it’s more special than that. Five years ago today, I met an Irish woman who stole my heart.”
I looked over at Serena. She blew me a kiss.
“And she’s given me the most precious gift of a son.”
“That’s me!” Andrew patted his chest.
“This St. Patrick’s Day, I want to up the ante a bit.” I held Serena’s gaze, noting her hesitant expression. “Serena Moore. I love you. I love our son. Will you marry me?”
There was a gasp from my mother that didn’t sound happy, but the rest of the room did.
I pulled the emerald ring surrounded by diamonds nestled between Irish love knots from my pocket and held it toward her.
“Say yes, lass,” someone called from the room.
“Yes. Of course, yes.” She hurried toward me and I was so happy she didn’t seem to make a single glance at my mother. I didn’t either. What she said or did didn't matter.
She launched herself into my arms to the cheers of everyone in the room. I slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her, never feeling as happy as I felt at that moment.
“I’m so happy, make it two rounds of Guinness,” I announced.
Another big cheer rumbled through the room.
I pulled Serena away, letting the band play again and people go back to their meals.
“Congratulations,” my father shook my hand. He turned to Serena. “You have a wonderful man in Devin, and terrific son in Andrew, which to my mind must mean you’re something special too.”
Serena teared up. “Thank you.”
“Yay, I finally get a sister too,” Bri said, hugging Serena.
My mother maintained her dour expression, but knowing that people could be watching, she nodded toward Serena. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Mommy, what’s happening?” Andrew asked.
I leaned down to pick him up. “Mommy has agreed to be with me forever. We’re getting married.”
“Can I get married to you too? I want to be with you forever.”
“Yes. We’re going to be a real family.” I was so fucking lucky.
Epilogue
Serena—Five Months Later
Life really could be a roller coaster. One moment, my world had ended because of a careless and selfish mistake. And then I was so happy to have a second chance. But it just kept getting better. On St. Patrick’s Day, Devin asked me to marry him, and I was the happiest, luckiest woman in the world. I didn’t even care that my mother-in-law hated me. I’d endure anything to be Devin’s wife and Andrew’s mother.
Devin and I were in agreement that we didn’t want a long engagement or big wedding. In fact, we’d nearly run off to Las Vegas. However, neither of our parents liked that idea and we figured we owed them a ceremony.
So less than two months later, on Beltane or May Day, we were married on the terrace of the Roarke. Andrew was the ring bearer and Bri was my maid of honor. Our parents were thrilled, except, of course, Mrs. Roarke, but at least she didn’t give me death stares anymore. Once the DNA test came back indicating that yes, Devin was Andrew’s father, she retracted her thorns, which wasn’t to say she welcomed me into the family, but she wasn’t as obviously rude to me.
“She treats everyone like pond scum,” Bri told me one night while she and I had gone out leaving Devin and Andrew to have a father-son night. “In fact, you might consider it a good thing. She treats you as badly as she treats me. You’re family.”
We spent our wedding night naked in the suite of the hotel where five years Devin first initiated me into the pleasure of the body, and the next day, we gathered Andrew from my parents’ house, and got on a plane to Ireland.
“You’re full Irish,” Devin had explained to Andrew. “You should see the homeland.”
We brought Bri along, as she was now learning much about the business and the clubs to help Devin out. It gave him more time with us, and something to keep her out of trouble, or so Devin said. It also gave us a sitter the few times we wanted some alone time.
Now it was the first of August, or in Celtic, Lá Lúnasa. Devin and I had taken Andrew to the zoo at Central Park and had a picnic afterward. That afternoon, we dropped Andrew off with Bri at the Roarke house.
“I’m going to beat grandfather in chess,” Andrew said as he walked up the marble steps.
“You can try,” Mr. Roarke said as he appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Then we’re going swimming, right?” Bri said, standing with her arm through her father’s.
“Yay!”
Mrs. Roarke was off at one of her women’s meetings, but Andrew was spending the night, which meant she’d be there while he was. It always put me on edge, but my own parents were off on a cruise and I’d planned a special night for me and Devin. So I had to trust that Bri would keep any negativity from Mrs. Roarke away from Andrew.
After leaving Andrew, Devin and I got into the car and Doug drove us to our destination.
“You’re hardcore Irish to be celebrating Lá Lúnasa,” Devin said. “I’m not sure how many Irish American’s celebrate that.”
“I like celebrating things with you.” I rubbed my hand down his leg.
His eyes glinted. “Is this a Celtic pagan ritual we’ll be doing?”
“Something like that.”
He turned in his seat, pushing me back. “Can we start now?”
“No. I think
