THE INHERITANCE - part thirty-one

I WROTE THIS AS THE SPARK IN MY IMAGINATION ILLUMINATED.

PLEASE GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND READ THROUGH.

I APPRECIATE IT. THANKS.

THE INHERITANCE (part one) | Fiction (vocal.media)

THE INHERITANCE ... part two | Fiction (vocal.media)

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THE INHERITANCE – part thirty-one ………

Welcome home

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Kate awoke with so many emotions from the night before. She read, laughed, cried, and remembered as she read about her childhood seen through her father’s eyes.

What a joy it was to remember him and all the fun they had before the accident. “Strange, how I don’t remember that day. I was ten. I should remember. Why don’t I?”

She straightened her bed, took a shower, brushed her teeth, dressed, and then descended the stairs to the kitchen.

Patti, Kate’s mother, was sitting at the table somberly going through a stack of photos.

“Hi Mom,” Kate said as she wandered towards the table. “Watchca got there? You look so serious.”

Patti looked up and smiled. “Hi, Sweetie. Since I had two weeks to pack for my visit with you, I went through some old boxes and found quite a number of photos of your dad, you, and your dad, and the three of us. I thought you might like a few of them. I also found a small box he had tucked away that I can only assume belonged to his parents before he arrived in the states. Oh, and one thing before you sit. Actually, two things. That painting hanging on the far wall. Can I safely assume that’s Kathleen? Whoever it is, you look just like her. Secondly, I placed some wood in your stove for coffee, but you have no refrigerator and I know you like milk in your coffee, so I didn’t light the fire.”

Kate walked behind her mother, gave her a hug, and answered, “Yes, mom, that’s Kathleen. From what I’ve been told, her husband, Daniel, had that painted when she was just twenty-four. Uncanny isn’t it that we could be twins? As for a refrigerator? I need to show you something that Kathleen had built into her cottage. Come.”

Patti stood and followed Kate around the wall behind the stove and watched as her daughter gave the stone wall a slight push. As the wall opened, Kate heard Patti mumble, “Oh my god! What an ingenious idea. I love it.”

Kate smiled and responded, “Mom, my great-grandmother was and probably still is full of surprises. Follow me.” She led her mother to the wall where Kathleen’s painting hung and gave that wall the same slight push as the one belonging to the cool room. It opened and Kate explained her plans for that room.

“Kate, Kathleen did all this? Is this cottage haunted?”

Kate laughed. “No, mom, although she did put a spell on it so I would be the only one to inherit it. I know, before you say anything, how could she have known about me when died so many years before I was born. She was a witch, remember? These rooms weren’t put in by her magic. She had them built into the cottage.”

Patti replied, “Amazing! Truly amazing!”

Kate turned towards the kitchen, “Okay, then, let’s have coffee and I’ll make some breakfast.” Then something niggled at Kate’s intuitive senses. “Unless you’d prefer going to Paddy’s. You enjoyed your supper last night. What do you think? You’d have the chance to meet some of my friends. We can look at dad’s photos as soon as we get back.”

Patti’s smile was telling. “Yes, Kate, I think I’d really like that. But I do have a question. You said you have no electricity so how would you have made coffee?”

“The old-fashioned way. I use an old-fashioned camping drip pot. That’ll do me until I get power added to mo abhaile – and before you ask, it means my home.”

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Paddy was delighted when they walked through his doorway. “Ladies, two beautiful young women to brighten any man’s day! Come on in and I’ll give you the best seat in the house.”

Kate laughed, “Paddy, my stor, there is only one table still empty. Guess you saved that for us, right?”

Paddy laughed, “But of course, mo chailin milis. Come, sit. I’ll get you coffee while you check out our menu.”

Kate looked around and she felt something like little pin pricks on the back of her neck. “Mom, I’ll be right back. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

She walked three tables away and then returned with a very handsome gentleman whose eyes shown with delight at being escorted to Kate’s table.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Kieran Rowan. He’s the wonderful craftsman who hand crafted the hutch in my kitchen. Kieran, this is my mom, Patti Sullivan.”

“Oh, mo, oh sorry, I almost slipped into my Gaelic. My dear, ‘tis a pleasure, it is to meet the mother of such a sweet and lovely lass.”

Kate would have sworn her mother blushed.

“Please, Mr. Rowan, call me Patti.”

“Only if you call me Rowan.”

Patti reached out her hand in greeting, and said, “Rowan, would you like to join us for breakfast?”

Kate had never, since her father died, seen her mother behave in such an extraverted and animated manner but smiled, nonetheless.

Kieran looked at Kate. “If it’s all right with Katie, I’d like that.”

Kate hugged Kieran and replied, “Oh Kieran, after that beautiful piece of furniture you made for me, how could you not be welcomed at our table. Yes, please join us.”

She noticed the pleased smile on her mother’s face and knew, without the little intuitive pinpricks she felt, that this was going to be an act to watch. She could hardly wait.