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I brush my fingers over the three little shamrocks engraved below the lid of my mom’s urn and it hits me. “Wait! I do have something. I don’t know what, but last year when Mom died and things were getting bad with Marco and his dad, I did something.”
“What did you do?”
“I snuck into Milton’s office and made a copy of all his files to a thumb drive.”
Tag’s ebony brows arch. “And where would this thumb drive be now?”
I pat the urn in my lap. “Mom’s been watching over it. Like I said, it was right when she passed, and the funeral home asked if there was anything sentimental I wanted to put in with Mom.”
Tag glances down at my lap and grins. “My god, I love the way your mind works. That might be just what we need, luv. Well done.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t intentional. In fact, I never thought of it again. It was just meant as a safety net in case anything ever happened.”
Tag lifts my hand to his lips. “It’ll be perfect. I know it will.”
A dozen of us gather at the top of the velvety green hills of Cornagower East. It overlooks the stretch of beach and sand dunes that the area is famous for and, according to Finley, was one of mom’s favorite places to hang out as a teen.
I can see why.
The beauty of this stretch of coastline is undeniable, and the salty breeze carries a mix of sorrow and relief.
The other option was Jack’s Hole, north of the beach. Apparently, a 17th century smuggler and pirate, Captain Jack White, operated from a secluded cove here. He intercepted goods from British merchant ships and imported goods from France to the annoyance of Crown authorities who were thus deprived of customs revenue.
While I thought that was fun, I wasn’t sure that was the tone I wanted for my final farewell for my mom after returning her home.
Standing here, with the waves crashing rhythmically against the coast below, I’m soothed by the backdrop to our quiet reflections.
Auntie Maeve wraps an arm around my shoulders as we watch the last of the ashes disappear into the sea. “This was lovely, dear. I’m sure your mam is looking down on us, smiling from ear to ear.”
“I hope so.”
Over the next little while, Maeve shares stories of childhood adventures with my mom, and Finley, my mother’s childhood boyfriend, adds his own tales. Throughout the stories, his eyes twinkle with fond memories and we all laugh despite the somber tone of the day.
When all is said and done, we turn away from the cliff and shift from the solemnity of our service to a celebration of life, as Mom would have wanted.
Tag and I slide back into the truck to return to town, and I press the USB key into Tag’s palm. “Hopefully it will help.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m sure it will.”
We drive in a small convoy back to town and park outside the local pub. It’s a quaint place filled with rustic charm, and we gather a few more relatives for the private reception.
“Here’s to you, Mom. Welcome home.” I hold up my beer and everyone around the room does the same.
As the afternoon unfolds, the pub’s cozy ambiance helps lift everyone’s spirits and we indulge in hearty Irish fare.
“Are you totally bored?” I ask Tag a long while later. “I don’t like seeing you hide in the corner.”
He winks at me and bends down to brush his lips over the shell of my ear. “I’m happy to watch you from the shadows. And believe it or not, it’s been nice. I rarely get time alone with my thoughts and today I’ve thought a lot about my parents.”
I ease back and search his emerald gaze. “Are you doing okay?”
He dips his chin. “Better than I have been in months. Now, get back to your guests and enjoy your family. The two of us can chat anytime and anywhere. This is their day.”
I’m lost in the tenderness that swirls behind his gaze and claim his lips for a chaste kiss. “I love you, Tag Quinn.”
Surprise is quickly replaced by hunger in his gaze as he leans down to kiss me back. “Only half as much as I love you.”
The clinking of glasses breaks up our private moment and Tag gives my butt a naughty smack to send me back to the others.
