IRISH BLUE B1_Chapter 11
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Book Series: IRISH BLUE
Author: Sheila Willar
Copyright: 2022 Sheila Willar
ISBN #: 978-0-9867101-4-8
Book Title: THE CHAPEL
Chapter #: 11 - THE BEACH HOUSE
BOOK 1 - CHAPTER 11 - THE BEACH HOUSE
Maggy was in the process of re-planning her wedding, and was having trouble convincing her mother that the new venue was better than the old one.
“It’s at Peter’s ... business partner’s ... summer house!” announced Maggy for the third time.
“A cottage for a reception?” gasped Mrs. Clancy.
“It’s a beautiful place.”
“No one wants to wear a gown and heels to a shanty.”
“You could wear your bathing suit,” teased Maggy.
“You mind your manners.”
“How about taking a visit with us? We’re going for a look tomorrow.”
“I don’t have the time. I’m too busy.”
“It’s an hour’s drive.”
“That’s too far.”
“No it’s not."
“What about catering? No one wants to have sand in their food,” argued Mrs. Clancy.
“What food?” joked Maggy.
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s all arranged. Peter has a van and we’re driving out tomorrow. You can come if you want.”
Even though Maggy’s mother was against it, she could not hide her excitement about a trip to the ocean.
“All right, I’ll go. But we’re not using it for the wedding.”
The next morning there was a whirl of activity as Maggy’s mother and aunts sorted out their wardrobes for the day. They could not decide if they should go casual or dress up.
Erin and Kelly helped Peter load the van and soon they were out of the city and onto the highway. Peter and Maggy laughed to themselves as Mrs. Clancy went over her list of “must-haves”, which she was sure that a cabin could not provide.
Peter knew the route by memory, and took a ramp onto a side road that quickly turned into a postcard village, where artisan shops and antique stores, had strings of sea shell necklaces hanging in the windows.
Maggy’s mother rolled her eyes and bit her lip.
Then Peter turned onto a narrow lane and stopped in front of an iron gate, which opened for them automatically and they proceeded through.
The sound of the tires was muted as they drove down a soft sandy road, where a row of tall grass that grew in the middle of the path, brushed the underside of the van, and made “whoosh” sounds.
On one of the turns, where the road narrowed, tree branches inquisitively tapped the windows as if to say “Who are you?"
"Oh my," shuddered Finola uncomfortably.
With each winding turn her expectations lowered and she let everyone know it.
However, when they drove around the last bend, Maggy’s mother went silent.
Before them unfolded a beautiful cedar-shake home, that had been worn a gray-brown colour like that of driftwood. It was nestled amongst rolling dunes, tufts of sea-oat grasses, and an aquamarine horizon.
Peter parked the van and stepped outside to inhale a deep breath of salty ocean air.
Finola busily made herself presentable and huddled around the others as they approached the front door.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“And me?”
“Fine.”
“And me?”
“Everyone’s fine!” admonished Maggy.
Finola bristled.
When the door opened, a lovely woman appeared and graciously invited them inside.
“Welcome. How was your drive?” she asked. “I’m Bill’s wife. Just call me May.”
She escorted the group into the central living room, where they were amazed by how bright it was and by the spectacular views of the ocean.
“Make yourselves comfortable while I go find Bill.”
The group spread out and investigated the features of the room.
They measured the height of their heads against the tall walk-in fireplace, and they waved their hands over a glass model of dolphins that looked like they were swimming across the table.
“Don’t touch anything!” cautioned Finola.
May and Bill returned and invited the group to follow them into the kitchen.
“As you can see, it was designed for catering,” explained Bill. "The whole house is perfect for entertaining. The fire code says we can have one hundred and fifty people at one time.”
"And we can put a tent outside to make it less crowed," added May.
Peter wanted to say, “Of course we’ll have our wedding here!” but he had to wait for his mother-in-law’s approval.
“We couldn’t impose on you that way,” stated Finola.
“It’s no problem at all,” replied Bill. “We have events here all the time.”
“We had a wedding here last summer,” said May. “It was for my mother. She threw her bouquet from the top of the lighthouse, and the kids chased flower petals on the wind."
Bill could see that Maggy’s mother was not convinced.
“Why don’t we go for a sail?” suggested Bill. “Follow me. The boat’s ready and we can have lunch onboard.”
Maggy and Peter walked hand in hand along the wooden walkway that meandered through the dunes, while Erin and Kelly raced each other down to the shore where they ran like galloping horses into the surf.
The aunts followed and huddled together as they held their skirts tight in order to keep them from rising in the wind.
At the dock, Peter helped his in-law’s step onto the rising deck of the boat. Even though the ladies had grown up amongst boats, they welcomed a steady arm.
When everyone was seated in the shade of the canopy, May set out a lunch, and little by little, in the gentle breeze and the rock of the boat, a hint of laughter began to soften the sense of apprehension amongst the guests.
By the time the scones and fresh strawberries were served, the visitors had become less defensive and more trusting. Finola even made jokes and wondered if they should put flowers on the dock for the wedding.
After lunch May handed out life-jackets and insisted that everyone put one on.
“Real captains don’t wear floats,” Bill complained as he snapped his together.
Bill and May set the rigging to catch just a wisp of wind, as they sailed out into the harbour, on a nearly calm sea.
Maggy leaned against Peter and looked back at the beach house that had grown smaller in the distance. She turned to face him and said, “Well? What do you think?”
“I love it here. I always have.”
“Mother!” Maggy called, but her mother did not answer. “Finola!” repeated Maggy, trying to get her mother’s attention.
Finola was enjoying herself so much that she was lost in a daydream. The wind and the ocean had made her feel young again. The thought of returning to this place to celebrate Maggy’s wedding was like the frosting on an already beautiful cake.
“Let’s do it!” beamed Finola. “But the service has to be in a church.”
“OK!” cheered Maggy as they toasted the good news.
Finola wondered if she had made the right decision, so she made the sign of the cross over her heart just to make sure.
“We could bring some of the Irish Blue flowers here,” suggested Kelly.
“If we have enough,” joked Maggy.
“Land ho!” shouted Bill as he brought the bow round and tacked his way back to shore.
“Land ho!” echoed his crew as they vowed to make Peter and Maggy’s wedding a time to remember.
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