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On the train the next morning, with Marco glued to the window for the first glimpse of New York, she shared it.
“I decided something last night and want your input.”
“Sure. Some night, huh? And more to come. After we dump our bags, we’re heading out, girl. I checked the weather. Mostly sunny and sixty, so not bad.”
“I’m going to tell Sally and Derrick.”
“About the weather?”
“Marco, latch on.”
“Sorry. What?” With obvious effort, he pulled himself away from the view.
“I want to ask them to come over, after. It has to be after, but I want them to come.” If I live through it, she thought, but didn’t say. “Maybe in the fall, maybe even for your wedding. Your first wedding.”
“That’s in Talamh, at Brian’s—” He latched on, then grabbed both her hands. “You mean it?”
“I can’t stand not telling them. It’s like lying. Itislying. And they’re family. I think I decided when I walked away from my mother. But I absolutely decided last night. If you think it’s the wrong thing, tell me.”
Eyes closed, Marco let out a long breath. “I’ve been carrying it this whole time. Every time we talk to them, when I had Brian first sit in so they could meet him that way. I want them to really know him, and meet his family, and Nan, and everybody. But I know it’s yours to tell.”
“Not just mine. I have to ask Keegan. He’s not just the guy I’m sleeping with, he’s taoiseach. It may be too much, and I—we’ll—have to accept that. But I’m going to put up a good, solid argument.”
“I’ve got your back on it. This lightens my load, Breen. But maybe when you tell them, show them, you could do it with less—”
He tossed his hands up on the sides of his face, made a bomb sound.
“That’s a definite.”
“This is great. Hey, do I still get two weddings?”
“That’s another definite. I want that gold dress even more than I want to see you in white tie and tails. And there’s New York.”
Just as thrilling as the first time, Breen thought, and only more so, as she had Marco and his unbridled excitement with her. She’dbooked the same hotel she’d used on her first and only trip, but splurged this round.
Marco gawked at the small but lovely two-bedroom suite as much as the view out the window.
“Girl, you went swank!”
“We get two nights, and we deserve the pretty little parlor so we can hang out when we’re not out on the town.”
The parlor offered a sofa plumped with pillows, a pair of streamlined chairs. The long, low coffee table held a bowl of fruit, a complimentary bottle of red wine, and a pair of glasses.
And the big windows opened their world to downtown New York.
Because she’d gone over the amenities, she picked up the TV remote. “Check this,” she told him, and pointed it at the big mirror facing the sofa.
The mirror shifted to TV mode, and the hotel screen.
“Now we’re talking!” In triumph, he lifted his face and his arms to the ceiling. “Technology, I’m back! I gotta have me one of these. When we do the cottage, I gotta have one of these sweet things.”
He spun around. “I gotta take a picture for Brian. Pictures of everything. We’ll do a video. I want to sit on the sofa, and those chairs, and the one in my room, flop on the bed, dance in the shower. Same in your room. But we gotta get out there.”
“I’m going to unpack.” She shot a finger at him. “We’ve got all day, as long as we’re back here and dressed by five thirty.”
“Unpack fast, ’cause we need to hit this city, and hard. What’s five thirty?”
“That’s when we need to leave for our pre-theater fancy dinner reservations.”
