Come for Tea? Stay for Inspection?
Date: Saturday, 23 March 2001
Time: Afternoon
Location: Finnigan’s in Kenmare
Characters Involved: Seamus Finnigan, Charlotte Aurelius, NPC’s Beven and Cian Finnigan
Rating: G
( Happiness is seeing your mother-in-law's picture on the back of a milk carton. )
Time: Afternoon
Location: Finnigan’s in Kenmare
Characters Involved: Seamus Finnigan, Charlotte Aurelius, NPC’s Beven and Cian Finnigan
Rating: G
( Happiness is seeing your mother-in-law's picture on the back of a milk carton. )
Beven sat back in her comfortable kitchen, sipping her tea and smiling patiently like a cheshire cat, waiting for her prey soon to be daughter-in-law to respond. She was serious in wanting Charlotte to be happy with this wedding. She knew right well whom Seamus would blame were she not. Charlotte was not quick to respond, so the older, shrewder witch figured she better help her along.
“Right, love. You saw then with our Frank what a Finnigan family wedding is like then.” She reached over to pat Charlotte on the hand, an attempt at encouragement. “Was that to your liking then, lass? What dishes canst we be after fixing that you would like best then?” She laughed lightly before continuing. “We’ve no French cooking amongst us now, lass, but ‘twill be a pleasure to make what you’re after wanting.” She took another sip of tea before adding, “And flowers, lass, how shall we be trimming up Holy Cross for ye now?”
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She was a shy little thing. She didn't need anything fussy. Fleur would help her find the perfect wedding dress in Paris. She didn't need fancy french foods. Just Seamus and a cake and some flowers. "I was 'oping for a cake zough." she admitted, more with the fiddling because she didn't want to look Beven in the eyes. Perhaps it was too much to ask. She knew that Seamus didn't want a fussy wedding. Something with just their family and friends, that was enough. "Wildflowers and cake..." she said, quietly, thinking for a long moment about old pictures that she had at home.
Pictures of her parents from years before. Pictures of them dancing, the bouquet toss that she still didn't entirely understand... cutting the cake, feeding it to each other. She wanted all of that for her memories, for their children's memories of them. "Zere are some t'ings zat need to be zere for ze memory of ozers." she added, more to herself then to Beven.
She didn't have anyone to give her away. It was a silly thing to wish for. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to push the saddness down.
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“I’ve made it too strong, Charlotte, at least to my taste.” She sat the water within Char’s easy reach and then stirred her cup, more to delay her answer than out of need. Then she smiled over at the blonde beauty before giving her verbal assurance.
“Aye, Char, love, ‘twill be wildflowers a plenty to be had then in April. I’ll pick them myself or you can come early and help me. Well then, there’s much to be done ‘fore any wedding, and I’d not o’er step by doing that which you’d do then, if given the chance.” She took a sip, better pleased with the weaker taste. “Right, the food and the cake will be just as you’d like, then. Thou hast but to ask, ‘fore ‘tis for our family.”
When Char spoke of things for the memories of others, Beven was not sure what she might be thinking. The girl was too hesitant to make her needs plain to a woman who barely knew her. Yet it seemed clear that there was something more that she desired, something that she did not think the Finnigans could give. Beven did not believe that could be true. What could she not do, if the girl would just tell her?
“Aye, love, memories of that day are precious for certain. Perhaps you’d care to arrange for a photographer to come? ‘Twill be none but magical folk and close family after knowing that we three have magic.” Beven thought for a moment. Would there be anyone there who did not have magic and did not know that both she and Seamus were blessed with it? Only one came immediately to mind. “Aye, then, Frank’s wife, Bridget will not be attending. She’s having a difficult time, the poor lass, and must see to the health of herself and her child. Frank will be here, but will no doubt leave early, worried to leave her too long.” She and Cian were very concerned about Bridget, but she was young and strong and hopefully would carry her first child to term. Frank would not hear of her risking herself as her physician had insisted on bed rest for now.
When Char closed her eyes, though she tried to hide it from Beven, it immediately caught her attention, which was riveted on the young girl before her. There was something her soon to be daughter needed for this wedding and it was clearly Beven’s lot to find out what it was.
“Aye, lass, so’s thou mayst have magical photos and also magic elsewhere if ‘twas your concern.” Somehow, Beven did not think it was a lack of magic for her wedding that was of concern to Charlotte. Unfortunately, she could not guess what was.
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She didn't notice that the tea was too strong, she had added too much sugar for it to really matter. She just sipped the tea for a long moment, "Bridget is not fairing well in 'er pregnancy?" she asked, changing the subject, she had liked the pretty little Irish bride.
"I will 'ave to send 'er somet'ing from ze shop to make her feel better." she added after a few moments. She would send her some books and maybe a blanket or something. She didn't really know. She thought for a long moment. "She is going to be famille, oui?" she asked, looking at Beven.
It was easy to distract herself from talking about the hard things. It was as simple as changing the subject away from the wedding and families and such things. She didn't have that. She didn't even really have many to invite to her own wedding. Just Fleur and Conall and Susan and Perry (and his friends) really. There were acquaintances, but no one she considered friendly enough to want to take a trip to Ireland to witness her getting married.
"Mon amie et moi..." she started and then realized she was speaking too much french. "My friend and I will be getting my wedding gown... ozer zen zat.... zere is not much else zat needs planning. W'atever you would like to cook is perfecto. Just none of zat green cabbage stuff...." she said with a wrinkle of her nose.
She still felt a little ungrateful asking for anything specific, or saying she didn't like something.
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“Aye, lass, she’s been told then to rest now, but she’s a strong young lady, ‘tis sure that both she and her babe will fare well.” Beven smiled, wishing she felt as confident of that as she sounded. Neither Frank nor Cian would hear of her finding a healer for Bridget, so she hoped that the bed rest would see her through to the end of her pregnancy.
Beven helped herself to a scone, taking a bit of clotted cream for it on her plate. She was looking for something to busy her hands with as Charlotte went on about finding something for Bridget. Beven did not think she had ever met a girl with so little interest in talking about her own wedding. Most of the young ladies she knew became consumed with the event, boring everyone with all the details until their friends either begged them to stop or found ways around spending much time with them. So far as she could tell, Miss Charlotte Aurelius had left up all of the details and planning to her, with hardly an instruction at all for the taking.
She was actually relieved when Charlotte returned to the subject to speak of her dress. She was shopping for it in Paris with her friend? There was some comfort in that. After all, there was no girl alive disinterested in her own wedding dress. Still, there was a small nagging question at the back of Beven’s mind. Was Charlotte more interested in her son than this wedding? She certainly hoped so.
One bite of her scone later, she stopped to laugh lightly at Charlotte’s confirmation that Beven should choose the menu, with the single request of no cabbage. Beven nodded in agreement. “Aye, Char, then, no cabbage for certain. Perhaps some spring dishes might be more to your liking, some asparagus, perhaps?” Beven was quite versatile in her cooking and would be happy to make whatever the young lady preferred.
“Aye, Char, love, have you and Seamus discussed anything else that you’d like for your wedding?” It was a loaded question - but only the first.
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It seemed a very religious place and she knew little to nothing about the religion, she knew very little of Greek and Latin and she was afraid that she would be lost at her own wedding ceremony as to what was going on. She had been lost at Frank and Bridget's wedding.
"And I do not know of any enfants to be ze flower girl and ring bearer.... but I was t'inking zat Socrates could 'elp some. I do not know." she said, sounding a little bit lost and confused and a little afraid.
"And.... and asparagus is lovely." she stammered, beginning to run on a bit, "And..... and we discussed a 'ome and family but very little about ze wedding.... we talked about wanting to 'ave babies and a 'ome 'ere in Ireland and 'is pub and.... and so little about ze wedding." she rambled.
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Except for the Gaelic, Beven thought and then smiled her Cheshire cat smile. Yes, poor Charlotte had probably not understood a word of it and was concerned that she’d be married in a foreign language. That, of course, wouldn’t happen. Her wedding would be in English. Beven was about to interrupt to assure her of this, when the lass continued on talking about not knowing any “enfants” and maybe Socrates could help. Wasn’t Socrates her dog? She felt more the cheetah at that than the Cheshire cat, as her thoughts turned to how she could suggest to this clueless young French lass that having a dog as a ring-bearer would be over her cold, cold dead body - and probably that of Father Rory as well.
She set down her scone and rested her teacup back in its saucer. She was going to have to gently, but firmly educate Charlotte on some basic wedding etiquette here. Meanwhile, Charlotte was rambling on about how asparagus was fine and seeming to be stammering and uncomfortable about admitting that she and Seamus had not discussed the wedding very much.
It was then that it happened, and to a less practiced ear it might have been lost, so caught up in the previous statements was Beven, but her cheetah senses were definitely tingling when Charlotte finished her statement.
”And… and we discussed a ‘ome and family but very little about ze wedding… we talked about wanting to ‘ave babies and a ‘ome ‘ere in Ireland and ‘is pub and… and so little about ze wedding.”
Indeed. A home in Ireland. A pub. Babies.
The atmosphere in the Finnigan kitchen suddenly took on the warmth of summer as both the cheetah and Cheshire cat in Beven yielded completely to the possibility of grandchildren. What did the wedding matter? They wanted children and a house in Ireland. Really, this girl was perfect. How had Seamus managed to find such a girl? And why hadn’t Beven met her before? She was glad she hadn’t been holding her cup or she might well have dropped it.
“Aye, Charlotte, dear, that all sounds right proper then.” Magical grandchildren. She might have magical grandchildren from this lovely young witch. And they wanted to live in Ireland. Oh, yes indeed, that certainly sounded like the best of all possible plans to Beven. “Aye, lass, the wedding at Holy Cross, ‘twill be in English for you, lass, as Father Rory’s a fine priest and very accommodating but has not got the time to learn French then. Would that be setting your mind at ease now lass?”
She reached over again, clasping Charlotte by the hand, and squeezing her fingers lightly in another attempt to set the flustered young lady at ease. “Aye, lass, ‘twood be fine for your Socrates to deliver your ring then.” She laughed lightly and looked around to see her own matching pup, Alice, in her place by the back door. “Well then, Alice and Socrates would make a fine pair, would they not, should you decide on a double ring ceremony?”
Father Rory would be reasonable. Or at least she felt certain he would be as soon as he saw the determined look on her face when she informed him.
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She would have to find a ring for him. Something that suited him. She squeezed Beven's hand softly, "I will do my best to make 'im 'appy. You know zat right?" she asked, looking to Beven. She was being entirely sincere. She wanted very much to be a part of Beven's family and to give Seamus a family.
Everything else seemed kind of trivial in comparison to making Seamus happy and giving him a family. A wedding was nice and all, but it was everything after the wedding that mattered to Charlotte. Plus it wasn't easy to plan a wedding without her parents, without her mother there to help her. Or her father to give her away.
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“Well then, my dear Charlotte, if you feel close enough to that beasty of yours to want him in church with you on your wedding day, then who’s to complain about it? No one in Kenmare, that’s for certain.” Beven had already forgotten her own recent objections. “A ring is not hard to find then, dear Charlotte.” She patted Char’s hand. “Right, Seamus is not one to bother with jewelry, leavin’ it to us then, like most men. Choose what you like, luv, ‘twill no doubt be fine then.”
When Charlotte tried to give voice to her feelings of wanting to make Seamus happy, Beven added up her deep sincerity and her unsure smiles and decided it was time she was offering more to the lass. A home in Ireland and children was what Charlotte wanted? What more could Beven possibly want from a wife for her Seamus. If Beven was assuming that they would naturally want to settle in Kenmare, she was not about to add that pressure now, at least not before they were married.
“Aye, Charlotte, lass. Cian and I know full well that ‘tis happiness you want for our Seamus. Right, the question, my dear Charlotte, is what can we do to help you that, sadly, your parents cannot? We’re after your happiness, too, love, just be telling us what we can do then consider it done, love.” Her smile was as warm as her words, both of her hands taking Charlotte’s to emphasize her generous offer.
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Charlotte had never seen herself to be the type that would marry. Sure she wanted to find a Prince Charming and live happily ever after, but reality had dictated that she'd become a cat lady, or in her case a dog lady buried in academia.
"I do not t'ink I 'ave anyone to give me away." she said, very very quietly, looking down at her teacup.
She could ask her brother, but she still wasn't entirely sure of herself with him yet. Sure he was her brother and she loved him. But he had been gone a very long time, "Zere is my brozer, but... I don't know if 'e will agree."
She now had to find Seamus a ring.... something to give him on their wedding day... double check that Susan was able to do the photography, "Gather ze flowers.... find ze dresses.... dig out ze veil of ma mozer... somet'ing old somet'ing new.... someti'ng borrowed..." she just continued to list off, the list getting longer and longer until it almost made her want to cry.
She just wanted to be Seamus' wife, did it have to seem so difficult?
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“Aye, my dear Charlotte, ‘tis only the things you really want to do that need doing. Right, the rest then you just leave to me then.” She petted and hugged the young lady, anxious to give her as much reassurance as she could. When Charlotte admitted that she was worried about someone to give her away and whether her brother would do it or no, Beven held her at arms length, but firmly.
“Well then, you just count on Cian to take you down that aisle to our Seamus. ‘Twood be his honour to do it, and he’d be nothing but pleased for the asking. Right, should your brother wish the honour when the time comes, Cian will step aside with ease, none the wiser.” She took Charlotte’s chin in her hand to emphasize her words. “You’re family, lass, our help is here for the asking. ‘Tis past time you knew this. You’ll be a Finnigan in so short a time, Charlotte dear, with a husband at your side and his family behind you. We’re here for you now lass.” She paused, listening to the short list Charlotte was ticking off, things she had not considered or thought about because, Beven knew, she’d been focused on the marriage not the wedding.
“My friends and I will do the flowers for you unless you want to come here and help us, there’ll be helping hands to spare. ‘Twas never a bride that did not want to choose her own dress, so you and your friend be after that one. Right, be she a good friend then the choosing will be fun for you Char, not a chore then.” She laughed, trying to cheer up the lass.
“Well then, you have your mother’s veil? ‘Tis a precious thing, Char, so be after bringing it to wear on your special day, too, then. No doubt your own Mum will be there then in spirit.” She hugged Charlotte again and then stood and looked down on the lass. “The rest is easily gathered then, dear Charlotte so worry not, love.” She took her chin lightly once again as she moved to retake her seat. “Family, Char, behind you to help. Right, you’ll make such a beautiful bride, Char, think on the good of it and worry not then, lass.”
She’d make a beautiful bride, one to bring her boyo back to Ireland to raise up his family. For that Beven would move mountains.
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Things she wanted to do. She wanted to get Seamus a ring and a wedding present. She wanted to get her dress. She wanted to marry Seamus and spend the rest of her life making him happy. She reached across the table to take Beven's hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "Merci, Beven. Merci beaucoup."
There was nothing more then she could say then thank you. Thanking her for letting her be in her family, for trusting her to make Seamus happy. For not hating that she was adding something more to her son's life. For making the last few months and the holidays bearable without her parents. There was so much to thank them all for. "Do you really t'ink zat Monsieur Cian would give me away?" she asked, trying very hard not to cry.
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