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When the introductions were complete, I glanced around the small private dining room. The staff had definitely made an effort with the decorations. The original marble fireplace was decorated with garland while red and white velvet stockings hung precisely from it. To its left stood a floor to ceiling Christmas tree complete with gift wrapped boxes placed beneath it. In fact, the whole room looked like something straight out of a cheesy festive Hallmark movie.
Each person’s name was carefully placed around the table with both families mixed to encourage conversation.
Dermot had his wife on his right and Catrina on his left, Nick next to Belle, myself, Daisy, Ryan and Poppy next to her mother. Before he thought anyone noticed, Nick quickly changed Belle and Poppy’s name places and winked at me when he saw me looking. I only noticed when Daisy flashed him a warning look.
Everyone took their seats and the wine waiter came over with three bottles of Bollinger Champagne, placing them strategically, one beside Dermot, one beside me and one beside Ryan after checking his ID. We laughed at the look of pride on Ryan’s face because it was his first legal age identification for alcohol ever.
As the menu was reduced to a few choices, two waiters quickly took our food orders then retreated to the kitchen.
“Can I just say how alike you ladies are? It’s astounding,” my sister said, making polite conversation.
“I thought the same when I saw all of you guys together at Thanksgiving,” Daisy replied with a smile.
“Yeah, the daughter gene from my wife is definitely the dominant one, but then again, can you imagine if they’d all looked like me?” their six feet three dad suggested. We all laughed because he was built like a Sherman tank, and I had to admit that would have been a scary but interesting mix.
“You both look so young. Are you really their mom?” Ryan asked, glancing first at Roslin and then toward his brother. Something innate told me they were both thinking MILF. Both boys had told me once they didn’t see age as a barrier if they were attracted to someone. It changed the slant on the whole conversation Ryan had been having, because Nick had once confessed to a tryst in a school storeroom with a thirty-year-old teacher a year before.
As the waiters arrived with the first course, the Champagne in our glasses had been depleted and we men replenished everyone’s drinks. The round table had felt perfect, ensuring no one was left out of the conversation.
Daisy slid her hand into mine under the table after finishing her starter dish and smiled warmly at me. Despite being in the company of her parents, I couldn’t resist her, and I leaned in and stole a swift kiss.
Immediately her father cleared his throat, as I had noted this, I squeezed Daisy’s hand in an ‘I got you’ gesture. I gave him a smile that said I was perfectly entitled to take what was mine. When his face stayed stoic and his stare intensified, I broke the moment with a personal question.
“That’s a smart looking suit, Dermot. Was it tailor made here in Dublin?”
“That it is, and it was,” he said, proudly tugging at a lapel. “Long lasting material too, it’s my wedding suit.”
His reply knocked me for six. “Wow, really? I mean it still looks like new.”
“No, it is not my wedding suit, it’s new. This my suit for Daisy’s Wedding.”
Even I heard the audible gulp I took and wondered where the conversation was been leading.
“Oh, I didn't know she was planning on getting married,” I replied, amused by his ingenious testing of my commitment to his daughter.
“Oh, have I put my foot in it Daisy? Have you not asked Jamie yet? I just thought when I saw you and your ma pouring over that bridal magazine the other day, the wedding was on.”
“Da, stop it,” Daisy admonished, her cheeks pink, mortified by her dad’s uncomfortable joke at her expense. It’s wind ups like yours that cause wars. I don’t find them very funny.”
“No war on this end, baby,” I mumbled, cool as ice. “Although I think your father is jumping the gun because we may decide to elope and then he’ll be left with an expensive suit and no function to air it for.”
Dermot chuckled. “You’ll do,” he replied. “As Daisy’s Da, it’s my job to scope out the fodder and test any man’s commitment.”
“So, I passed the test?” I asked, lifting the champagne glass and draining its contents again, wishing it was whiskey. I wouldn’t have minded had you asked me directly what my intentions are. I’m in love with your beautiful daughter and despite my job, the cultural and logistical differences between us, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”
“What’s with the name, Barney?” he asked, and I realized Daisy must have used that, referencing me at some point.
I shrugged. “It was Daisy’s idea to give me an alias. Being in the music business, it’s hard to get privacy wherever I go. While I’m here in Dublin we use Barney at the pub to keep interest in me to a minimum… and to give Daisy a bit of protection.”
“Protection, why would she need protection?”
“Has Daisy told you who I am?” I asked. As soon as my question was out, I felt I’d sounded conceited, and that hadn’t been my intention at all.
“Yeah you were her Canadian penfriend, but now you’re her boyfriend,” he stated.
I chuckled. “That’s our cover story. I’m a musician, with a following. I’m actually quite famous, although not so much here in Ireland.”
Dermot laughed and slapped his hand on the table. The rest of his family joined in laughing. “Jamie, I know exactly who you are. Roslin has got all your albums. If Daisy wasn't your girlfriend, I’d bet Roslin here would be all over you. She once told me you’d be her hall pass.”
