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“You could fill that bucket there from the well.” Sedric gestured. “And that way you’ll have a hand in the making of it.”
“And once Marco adds the cooling, we’ll take ourselves off to the workshop and leave the men to their devices.”
“I’d like to talk to you about some things first. Right after I get over the shock and amusement of watching Marco fill a bucket from a well. It fits, actually,” Breen decided. “Because I guess it won’t be the last time. He’s going to stay in Ireland. He and Brian talked it out, and—I’m just calling itafter—and after, they’ll live on the other side, in Ireland, so Brian can go back and forth easily.”
“Oh, I’m more than pleased, so much more than pleased to hear that. We were hoping, weren’t we?” She reached for Sedric’s hand.
“That we were. Here now, neighbor, pour it in slow.” Sedric supervised, nodded as Marco added the water from the bucket. “And that’s that until it’s not.”
“I was going to take a ride. Can I come back in an hour or two and see what’s next?”
“I wouldn’t mind a ride myself. We’ll do that, then do what’s next.”
“I’m so glad you’re staying close, you and Brian.” Marg cupped Marco’s face in her hands. “I’m happy to know I’ll see your face often, and happy to know you’ll be near to Breen, as a finer friend she couldn’t have.”
“I’d like it if it could be really close. Would you be all right if we added a cottage for Marco and Brian by the bay, near Fey Cottage?”
“A better idea I’ve never heard. Have you, Sedric?”
“If I have, I can’t think of it.”
“It’s your land,mo stór, to do with as you like.”
“I wouldn’t have the land or the cottage if it wasn’t for you.”
“Oh, what a time we’ll have doing it up—close enough for friends and neighbors, but with enough distance to be private for all. We’ll get Seamus on it, as he’s got the way. You’ll talk to him, Marco, about what you and Brian want in your home, and trust me, Finola will have plenty to say about it. As will this one.”
“Opinions, of course. But the right ones,” Sedric said firmly. “It’ll be the kitchen, for certain, at the heart of it. You’ll want a place for your music, and one for Brian’s art and such.”
“I’m choking up again.” Marco swiped at his eyes. “I gotta say something before I blubber. Back in Philadelphia, my family’s Sally and Derrick because my, well, my family-family, except for my sister, we—they—I’m gay, and that just doesn’t work for them.”
“I’m sorry for them,” Marg murmured. “And will hope one day the locks on their hearts break open.”
“Wouldn’t count on it. But the thing is, I’ve got family right here. The two of you, you’re Breen’s, but you’re mine, too. That’s how I feel. I really love you.”
“And are loved. There now, sweet boy.” Marg enfolded him. “Garmhac. Grandson. You’re ours. Now, off to the farm with you with your grandda for horses, and have your ride.”
“Okay. It feels like another really good day.”
“It does, aye, and we’ll hold tight to them.”
Breen watched them go. “It means so much to him, to me, to do this.”
“Love costs nothing. I wonder at those who can’t feel it, or won’t give or take it. Ah well, we’ve more than enough to spare, don’t we?” Marg said to Bollocks when he rubbed against her legs.
“I wanted to talk to you about something else,” Breen began as they walked into the trees toward the workshop. “I wanted to take a few days, with Marco, maybe in April. A day in Philadelphia, another in New York.”
“To see the mother of your heart, and then for business.”
“Yes. I won’t go if I’m needed, if things aren’t—quiet the way they are right now. I know all of this is more important.”
“Your family on the other side and your work are important, and of course you should go. Why do you wait until spring?”
“It’s Sally’s birthday, and it’s the book. I want to finish Bollocks’s next book.”
At his name, he wagged all over, then leaped into the stream to splash.
“Of course. I’d like to send a gift for him when you go. He gaveyou love when I couldn’t.” On the bridge Marg paused, as she often did. “Now, tell me what you feel.”
