The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

flirtation with Shawn Gallagher. That wasn’t such a shock, not really, but the fact that Brenna wasn’t talking of it with her was both a shock and a concern. She’d raised her girls to know there was nothing they couldn’t share with their mother.
    She’d known the night her Maureen had fallen in love, as the girl had come in flushed and laughing and full of the wonder of it. And when Kevin had asked her Patty to marry, she’d known the minute her girl had come into the house and thrown herself weeping into her mother’s arms. That was the way with them, Maureen laughing over joys and Patty weeping over them.
    But Brenna, the most practical of her children, had done neither, nor had she, as Mollie had expected, sat down and spoken of what had changed with Shawn.
    Hadn’t she left that very morning saying that she would be staying over with Darcy that night and not quite looking her mother in the eye when she lied? It hurt, knowing your child had the need to lie to you.
    “Where have you gone off to?”
    “Hmm?” Mollie focused on Kathy’s face again, shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to keep my mind on things these days.”
    “It’s no wonder. You’ve one daughter married only months ago, and another planning her wedding. Is it making you blue?”
    “A little, I suppose.” Because she’d let her tea go cold and Kathy’s cup was empty, Mollie rose to pour hers down the sink and refill both cups with fresh. “I’m proud of them, happy for them, but . . .”
    “They grow up so much faster than ever you think.”
    “They do. One minute I’m scrubbing faces, and the next I’m buying wedding gowns.” To her surprise, helpless tears rushed to her eyes. “Oh, Kathy.”
    “There, now, darling.” She took both of Mollie’s hands and squeezed. “I felt the same way when mine left the nest.”
    “It’s Patty’s doing.” Sniffling, Mollie dug a handkerchief out of her pocket. “I never cried with Maureen except at the wedding. Thought I’d go mad from time to time as my Maureen wouldn’t settle for less than perfection, and her idea of it changed daily. But Patty, she gets weepy if we talk about what flowers she’ll have. I swear to you, Kathy, I live in fear that the child will bawl her way down the aisle to poor Kevin. People would think we’ve a gun to her head, forcing her to take her vows.”
    “Oh, now, nothing of the sort. Patty’s your sentimentalone. She’ll make a lovely bride, tears and all.”
    “Of course she will.” But Mollie indulged herself with a few tears of her own. “Then there’s Mary Kate. She’s taken to mooning about—over some boy, I’m sure—and brooding and closing herself off to write in her diary. Half the time she won’t let Alice Mae in the room.”
    “Sure, there’s probably a lad at the hotel she fancies herself in love with. Is it worrying you?”
    “Not overmuch, I suppose. Mary Kate’s a great brooder, and she’s of an age where having her younger sister in her pocket becomes a trial.”
    “Just growing pains. You’ve done a fine job of mothering your girls, Mollie. They’re a credit to you, each and every one. Not that that stops a woman from worrying over her chicks. Well, at least Brenna’s not giving you any grief at the moment.”
    Carefully, Mollie lifted her cup and sipped. “Brenna’s steady as a rock,” she said. There were some things you couldn’t share, even with a friend.

With the pub closed for an hour between shifts, Aidan stuck his head in the kitchen. “Can you leave that for a few minutes?”
    Shawn cast a look around the general disorder caused by a busy afternoon crowd. “Without a second’s hesitation. Why?”
    “There’s something to talk about, and I want a walk.” Shawn tossed his dishcloth aside. “Where?”
    “The beach’ll do.” Aidan came through the kitchen and started out the back door. He paused there a moment, studying the slight rise of land, the tidiness of it before it gave way to a smattering of trees the wind had bent seaward.
    “Second thoughts?” Shawn asked him. “
    “No, not about this.” But he continued to look and measure. The shops and cottages that ran along the sides of his pub, the back gardens, the ancient dog who lay claim to a shady spot for a nap, the corner at the far end of their land where he’d kissed his first girl.
    “It’ll change more than a little,” Aidan mused. “
    “It will. It changed when Shamus Gallagher put up the walls of the