One Year by Mary McDonough Page A

appreciated its beauty as she did.
    For dessert, she had assembled a trifle in a large Waterford crystal bowl. The layers of ladyfingers, red gelatin, custard, and canned fruit cocktail, all soaked in sherry and topped with hand-whipped cream, made for a special dessert on a special occasion. It was only too bad that the entire family wasn’t there to share it.
    â€œWhere is Maureen this evening?” Mary Bernadette asked. “I thought we might see her here. She knows that she’s always welcome.”
    â€œAt a party with some friends from her office,” Jeannette said. “They get together every year. It’s a nice group of people, Maureen says. And what about Pat and Megan?”
    Mary Bernadette frowned. “At home. I don’t understand why they didn’t come down to Oliver’s Well. It’s not like they had other plans. Pat told me they’re not even celebrating the holiday! Can you imagine?”
    Jeannette shrugged. “Well, it is the middle of the week, and both Pat and Megan work and the twins have school tomorrow.”
    â€œThat’s not the point. How will David and Danica ever learn about their heritage if their parents don’t keep up the traditions ?”
    â€œI’m sure the twins know about St. Patrick’s Day. Doesn’t everybody? It’s not a holiday solely owned by the Irish, not anymore.”
    â€œIf you mean, have the children seen those awful bits on TV with grown men in ridiculous leprechaun costumes eating cupcakes with green frosting and quaffing green beer, then, no, they do not know about St. Patrick’s Day!”
    â€œWell . . .”
    â€œYou might have talked some sense into Pat, Jeannette. You are his godmother.”
    â€œYou mean I should have made him feel guilty that he wasn’t coming to Oliver’s Well?” Jeannette laughed. “Mary, the nonsense you talk!”
    Mary Bernadette did not believe she had spoken nonsense, but she let the matter drop.
    â€œIs everything all right with Alexis?” Jeannette asked now.
    â€œOf course. Why would you ask?”
    â€œOh, it’s just that she seems a bit—not her usual self today.”
    Mary Bernadette shook her head and busied herself with dessert plates and spoons. Really, Jeannette could be so melodramatic. If there was one thing Mary Bernadette was sure of, it was that her grandson and his wife were a happy young couple. Although she did have to wonder why Alexis wasn’t pregnant yet. Maybe there was a medical problem. Maybe, God forbid, they were using birth control. Mary Bernadette was intelligent enough to know that there were situations in which birth control might have its very good uses—in spite of what her beloved Church had to say—but a young, married couple, employed and with the full support of their family, had, in Mary Bernadette’s opinion, no business fiddling with it.
    â€œThe coffee’s ready,” Jeannette announced. “I’ll carry it out.”
    Mary Bernadette picked up the bowl of trifle. “I’ll be sure to pour a nice, big cup for Alexis.”

C HAPTER 21
    M ary Bernadette opened the door of her bedroom closet and removed a large black binder from the top shelf. It was the third volume of her clippings file, something she had been keeping since giving her first interview on behalf of the Oliver’s Well Historical Association thirty years earlier. She had served on the board for a few years at that point and was already considered a valuable part of the organization. That was not pride speaking. That was public fact. Since then, the Oliver’s Well Gazette had described her career with the OWHA as “illustrious” and “inspiring.”
    Mary Bernadette perched on the edge of the neatly made bed and opened the binder at random. Here was the article from a Lawrenceville paper, chronicling the occasion on which she had helped to facilitate the acquisition of the