‘I am not a one-woman United Nations you know,’ Aisling said, thinking about how Uncle Brendan had threatened to clock Uncle Frankie if he mouthed off at the reception. It was a likely scenario given Frankie’s love of a drop. ‘To be honest, I don’t know why your brothers have to come at all, Mammy. Tom will sit there picking his nose all through the speeches like he did at Rosi’s wedding and Colm couldn’t keep his hands to himself with any of her friends. Disgusting he was, following the girls half his age around saying, ‘Now then, how’s about a kiss for the bride’s uncle? As for Brendan and Frankie it will be fisticuffs at dawn mark my words.’ Aisling put her hand on her chest; she could feel her heart beginning to pump a little faster at the stress of it all. ‘It’s not as if we ever see any of them either. And what about Cousin Jackie and her shellfish allergy, not to mention Aunt Ina who doesn’t want to be seated near the band because she won’t be able to hear herself think. I’m pulling my hair out here.’
‘Ah now, Aisling, calm down. My brothers are heathens I’ll grant you but I’ve no parents left in this world and family is family. Your day will be grand so it will and all this will be a storm in a teacup like the KY2 business at New Year.’
Aisling frowned, surely Mammy wasn’t on about a new version of an old favourite that a girl’s mammy should know nothing about in the first place – and then the penny dropped. ‘Oh, you mean the Y2K bug.’
‘Yes, that. Why, what did you think I meant?’
‘Erm never mind.’
‘Well you get my point, Aisling. We saw the millennium in with fireworks galore but despite all the merchants of doom predicting the world as we knew it was going to crash down around us, it didn’t. Sure, it’ll be the same with your wedding. There’ll be a few crackers going off but no major catastrophes. Mark my words.’
Aisling wasn’t sure she liked her impending nuptials being compared to the Millennium bug and she’d prefer it if no crackers went off thanks very much but Mammy had only paused to draw breath so she didn’t get a chance to protest. ‘Have you heard back from Cormac as to whether he’s coming over from America to walk you down the aisle.’
Cormac was her dad’s older brother. Aisling had gotten to know him when she’d visited LA on stopovers to her various resort postings. Her dad had never spoken about him much when they were growing up. There were nearly ten years between them and Cormac had left home and sailed to America in search of adventure and to make his fortune, or so Daddy had always said, when he was still a young lad. He’d done well for himself, becoming a mover and shaker in the LA fashion scene where he’d wound up making his home. From a grown-up perspective, Aisling had concluded that what had driven Uncle Cormac to America all those years ago was not the need for adventure but a need for acceptance, something his effeminate ways would have struggled to find in Ireland when he was a younger man
When the time had come, he’d had no interest in taking over the running of the family’s guesthouse. So, it had fallen to his younger brother, Aisling’s daddy, Brian. Her brother Patrick caught up with Cormac from time to time over there in the city of angels but apart from funerals, and weddings the rest of the family hardly saw him. It had been Mammy’s bright idea to have Cormac give her away when she was supposed to walk down the aisle the first time around. A stand in for Daddy. Tears prickled and she blinked them away because more than anything she wished her dad could be the one whose arm she linked hers through as he led her down the aisle to meet Quinn. She liked to think he’d be there in spirit. Cormac was no Daddy but she was very fond of him. He was their closest male blood relative excluding her mammy’s brothers and Patrick and the thought of any of them marching her up the aisle was enough to bring her out in a rash.
She’d felt sheepish when she’d telephoned Cormac a second time to ask if he would do her this favour. His relaxed drawl made her think of blond shaggy-haired surfer dudes and hum Beach Boy tunes whereas in reality Uncle Cormac was a short man whose fondness for the finer things in life saw his belly rest comfortably over the top of the flowing, loose fitting linen pants he favoured. She also suspected he wore a toupee. A very good one, granted. They made good ones in LA. Uncle Cormac, with his tendency to talk with those beringed hands of his was one of life’s characters, Aisling had decided long ago and without him the world would be a little duller.
He hadn’t beaten around the bush, telling her he wanted to check out travel insurance policies for their cancellation clauses this time around before saying yes, given he’d not been able to get a refund on
