refused to speak to her the rest of the day. It was a side of him she’d never seen, a stubborn, sulking immaturity.
They had yet to resolve the issue.
“I’ve already made arrangements for their new home.” Everyone turned to see Conor McAllister standing in the doorway of the parlor. He smiled at Mary in a most reassuring way, as if he sensed her worry. “I’m Conor McAllister,” he said as the young priest rose to greet him. They exchanged the typical formalities before Conor started toward the door.
“As I was saying, I’ve taken care of their first home. Call it a wedding gift. It’s a lovely afternoon for a drive, don’t you think, Stephen? I’ll pull one of your cars around, and we’ll all go have a look. A pleasure meeting you, Father O’Brien.” Conor left the room before anyone had an opportunity to question him.
“What’s he talking about?” Patrick demanded.
“I have no idea,” Stephen said. “I assumed we’d help Patrick and Mary find a nice place when they decided where they wanted to live, but this is the first I’ve heard of Pop getting involved.”
Mary didn’t know what Patrick’s grandfather had in mind, either, but she felt a knot begin to twist and tighten in her stomach.
“Stephen, we’d better go see what he’s up to,” Elise McAllister said. “He’s unpredictable, to say the least,” she continued, turning to the young priest, “and he loves surprises. Patrick will be the first of his grandchildren to be married, so there’s no telling what he’s planned.”
“Something wonderful, I’m sure,” Father O’Brien said as he stood up. “But I do have another appointment, so I’ll leave you to investigate.” He paused at the door. “I look forward to seeing you at the pre-Cana sessions,” he said to Patrick and Mary. “And thank you, Mrs. McAllister, for the tea.”
Mary watched the back of the skinny young priest as he walked away. She liked him. He was quiet and disarming, someone around whom she might eventually feel comfortable.
The visitor had no sooner driven away than Conor pulled up to the front door in the black Lincoln. He left the car running as he herded Mary, Patrick, and Patrick’s parents out of the house.
Stephen headed for the passenger side when Conor stopped him. “No, son, you drive. I’ll tell you how to get there.” Conor climbed into the right front seat as Stephen got behind the wheel. “Hurry up now, that’s it.”
Patrick took Mary’s elbow, guided her into the back seat beside his mother, and got in himself. “Grandpop, I wish you’d tell us what you’ve done,” he said. His respect for his grandfather barely kept his annoyance at bay.
“Patience, Patrick! I intend to show you,” the patriarch said, grinning. “And we can take Mary home afterward. It will save you the drive.”
“But Mary lives in Mill River,” Stephen said.
“Indeed,” Conor replied. “That’s exactly where we’re going.”
~~~
“A charming view, isn’t it?” Conor asked. Mary and the four McAllisters stood atop a hill overlooking Mill River. A good portion of the land had been cleared of trees and leveled, and a dirt access road connected the site with the main road through the town.
“Yes, Pop,” Stephen said, “but why are we up here?”
Mary said nothing, but she noticed that Conor looked as if he were about to burst.
“Patrick, Mary,” Conor said as he turned to face them, “I wanted to give you something special for your wedding. But what? What could I give to you, especially you, Mary, to welcome you into our family?” Conor’s green eyes twinkled, and Mary felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Then, it came to me. I’ve arranged for a house to be built for you, here, overlooking Mill River. A house in Mary’s hometown, so that she may stay close to her father, plated by the finest white marble cut by our Marbleworks. The location of her family and the legacy of ours. Construction is scheduled to start this week.
They had yet to resolve the issue.
“I’ve already made arrangements for their new home.” Everyone turned to see Conor McAllister standing in the doorway of the parlor. He smiled at Mary in a most reassuring way, as if he sensed her worry. “I’m Conor McAllister,” he said as the young priest rose to greet him. They exchanged the typical formalities before Conor started toward the door.
“As I was saying, I’ve taken care of their first home. Call it a wedding gift. It’s a lovely afternoon for a drive, don’t you think, Stephen? I’ll pull one of your cars around, and we’ll all go have a look. A pleasure meeting you, Father O’Brien.” Conor left the room before anyone had an opportunity to question him.
“What’s he talking about?” Patrick demanded.
“I have no idea,” Stephen said. “I assumed we’d help Patrick and Mary find a nice place when they decided where they wanted to live, but this is the first I’ve heard of Pop getting involved.”
Mary didn’t know what Patrick’s grandfather had in mind, either, but she felt a knot begin to twist and tighten in her stomach.
“Stephen, we’d better go see what he’s up to,” Elise McAllister said. “He’s unpredictable, to say the least,” she continued, turning to the young priest, “and he loves surprises. Patrick will be the first of his grandchildren to be married, so there’s no telling what he’s planned.”
“Something wonderful, I’m sure,” Father O’Brien said as he stood up. “But I do have another appointment, so I’ll leave you to investigate.” He paused at the door. “I look forward to seeing you at the pre-Cana sessions,” he said to Patrick and Mary. “And thank you, Mrs. McAllister, for the tea.”
Mary watched the back of the skinny young priest as he walked away. She liked him. He was quiet and disarming, someone around whom she might eventually feel comfortable.
The visitor had no sooner driven away than Conor pulled up to the front door in the black Lincoln. He left the car running as he herded Mary, Patrick, and Patrick’s parents out of the house.
Stephen headed for the passenger side when Conor stopped him. “No, son, you drive. I’ll tell you how to get there.” Conor climbed into the right front seat as Stephen got behind the wheel. “Hurry up now, that’s it.”
Patrick took Mary’s elbow, guided her into the back seat beside his mother, and got in himself. “Grandpop, I wish you’d tell us what you’ve done,” he said. His respect for his grandfather barely kept his annoyance at bay.
“Patience, Patrick! I intend to show you,” the patriarch said, grinning. “And we can take Mary home afterward. It will save you the drive.”
“But Mary lives in Mill River,” Stephen said.
“Indeed,” Conor replied. “That’s exactly where we’re going.”
~~~
“A charming view, isn’t it?” Conor asked. Mary and the four McAllisters stood atop a hill overlooking Mill River. A good portion of the land had been cleared of trees and leveled, and a dirt access road connected the site with the main road through the town.
“Yes, Pop,” Stephen said, “but why are we up here?”
Mary said nothing, but she noticed that Conor looked as if he were about to burst.
“Patrick, Mary,” Conor said as he turned to face them, “I wanted to give you something special for your wedding. But what? What could I give to you, especially you, Mary, to welcome you into our family?” Conor’s green eyes twinkled, and Mary felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Then, it came to me. I’ve arranged for a house to be built for you, here, overlooking Mill River. A house in Mary’s hometown, so that she may stay close to her father, plated by the finest white marble cut by our Marbleworks. The location of her family and the legacy of ours. Construction is scheduled to start this week.
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