THE INHERITANCE - part seven

THE INHERITANCE – part seven ………

Welcome home

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Kate Sullivan inherited the house that once belonged to her great-grandmother. The old stone house sat on the edge of a ten-acre plat of land in Aughacasla, Ireland. Two weeks ago, she’d never heard of the small town and now, she owned a piece of it.

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“Please, Mrs., oh sorry, I don’t know your name, but won’t you come in and have a cup of tea with me? We can get acquainted.”

“Oh, Miss Kate, that would be so lovely. My name is Siobhan O’Leary, I knew your great-grandma, Kathleen. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I told you a tale or two.”

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As Kate gently closed the door behind the old woman and retrieved another cup from the cupboard along with another teabag from the jar she’d placed on the counter the night before, she began to say, “Please forgive the state ...”

Mrs. O’Leary placed her gnarled hand on Kate’s and said, “Don’t mind me for interruptin’ you, but you don’t need to apologize to me for anything. You’ve only been in the abaile for a night and while it’s spelled for you and miracles do happen, you need to give yourself time.”

Her words confused Kate. “What did you call this cottage? Awhileyet?”

Mrs. O’Leary chuckled a bit. “Oh no, my dear, it’s not awhileyet. If you look it up, it’s spelled Abhaile, but the pronunciation is “awhalia”. It means “home.”

Kate’s eyes gleamed with enlightenment as she looked around. “Awhalia. Oh, I do like the sound of that. My home!”

Mrs. O’Leary smiled and corrected herself, “If you want to say, “my home”, you’d say “mo awhalia. Like, mo a while ya. Are you thinkin’ of givin’ the cottage a name then?”

“Oh yes, Mrs. O’Leary, I feel very guilty and odd calling it “House.” I honestly feel like I am finally home. I’ve been here not quite twenty-four hours and feel like this is where I belong.”

Mrs. O’Leary smiled as she heard the kettle whistle. She patted Kate’s hand yet again; it seemed this was her way of stopping conversation or movement. “You sit; I’ll pour the water. Oh, and you’ll need tea leaves. These little baggie things will never do.”

Kate sat still and, feeling quite at home, allowed Mrs. O’Leary to take over the kitchen.

They sat for the better part of an hour while Mrs. O'Leary spoke lovingly about Kate’s great-grandmother.

Kate asked, “Mrs. O’Leary...”

Once again, the old woman patted Kate’s hand. “We’re as close as any close family, dear. Call me Shevy. My full name is Siobhan Marlene O’Shaughnessy, but I became O’Leary when I married Matthew. Rest his soul. Sorry, dear, what was your question?”

“I’m not sure how much you know my life, but my dad was killed in a horrific car crash when I was ten years old. My mom raised me on her own, and for reasons that I haven’t quite learned yet, she never spoke of my dad’s grandparents. I only learned of Kathleen two weeks ago at the lawyer’s office in New York. I had no idea. I guess, I’d like to start at the beginning. What was my great-grandfather’s name?”

A sad smile crept into Shevy’s eyes as she said, somewhat quietly, “His name was Daniel. Daniel Michael Sullivan. Your great-grandmother was Kathleen Mary Bridget Kelly until she married your grandfather and became a Sullivan.”

Shevy took a large gulp of her tea. “Yes, definitely a trip for tea leaves. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Kathleen and Daniel were married almost thirty years, when he took ill and passed. During their marriage, they were blessed with four children: your da, Bridget, Sara, and Ian. All but Sara left Ireland as young adults. When Kathleen passed, Sara tried to sell the cottage but couldn’t find a buyer. It was then, Terry’s uncle, who owned the bank at the time, found the Will. Sara immediately left the cottage and everything in it. To this day, no one knows where she went. Some had the impression that she left because she felt she should have inherited the cottage, but we all suspect that she showed no, uh, unusual attributes that Kathleen had. I suppose we’ll never know for sure. Oh, and by the way, you’re the spittin’ image of Kathleen.”

“I know. Mo Reilly showed me a photo of her.” Shevy only nodded.

“Oh my, we’ve spoken for quite a while already, but before I leave, did you find Kathleen’s cold room? Ah, I see you’ve already gotten her trunks and boxes. Take my advice and open the smallest box first. That should explain more than I can think about. Well, my dear, it’s getting’ a bit late and I’ve much to do at home. Here’s the envelope from Terry. I’ve written my phone number on the back so if you need anything just call. Oh, and one more thing,” she pulled from her large bag, a small box and handed it to Kate.

“This was a gift to me from your great-grandmother. Now that you’re here, it’s yours.”

Kate opened the box and saw a delicate, gold chain adorned with a plain but equally delicate-looking cross.

“Oh, Shevy. I couldn’t possibly accept this. Grandmother gave it to you. It must stay with you.”

“Oh, Kate. I’m old, you’re not. I’m sure Kathleen gave it to me for safe keepin.’ It seems only right that you should have it. I know it will keep you safe. It’s taken care of me all these years. It’s been blessed so don’t just toss it on a table and forget it. That would surely disappoint Kathleen.”

Kate’s eyes began to mist with loving tears. “I’ll put it on immediately.” She gently lifted the cross and chain from the box and thought she felt a tingle in her fingers. As she held it, she would have sworn the cross began to glow, but her practicality knew that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

She stood to put the cups in the sink and before Shevy left, said, “Shevy, can I drop you off? I need to go into town, anyway.”

“Kate, that would be so kind, since the sun is getting warmer.”

Kate picked up her purse and the paper on which held her list of things to buy and do.

As she was walking towards the door, she smiled and said, “I’m so glad I’m here, mo abaile”, then turned and closed the door behind her while she was sure she felt the small golden cross begin to vibrate.