The Lace Makers of Glenmara - By Heather Barbieri Page 0,40
as well. Suddenly, there was the possibility that things would change between Padraig and me, that that loss would reveal what had slipped away from us over the years. How far we’d drifted from each other. I don’t know what he’s thinking now. He’s such a quiet man.” Tears came to her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m crying about this. I thought I was done with the crying. Isn’t it funny, how undergarments call things up in you?”
“They lie close to the skin,” Colleen said. “They’re called intimates for a reason.”
“You deserve better. We can do so much better than this,” Bernie said, looking to Kate for confirmation.
Kate nodded and squeezed Oona’s hand.
“So you think you could,” Oona’s voice broke. “So you think you could make me something lovely?”
“I know we can, and we will.” Kate took out her measuring tape.
Later, the members of the lace society sat back and admired their handwork. “They’re too pretty to keep to ourselves,” Bernie said. “Maybe we should make more and sell them in town at the Saturday market. There might be some money in it.”
“No one came last time, remember?” Aileen said.
“Kate did,” Bernie said.
“She’s just one person, isn’t she?”
Kate shot a glance at Aileen. What an unhappy woman she seemed to be.
“Kate’s worth ten people—and we weren’t selling these, were we?” Bernie insisted.
“The lace is gorgeous,” Colleen agreed. “Surely other women will think so too. We’ll get extra supplies. It won’t take any time. There’s the sewing shop in Kinnabegs. They should have everything we need.”
“We can make samples, take orders,” Oona said. “That’s what the professionals do, don’t they?”
“Isn’t anyone listening to me?” Aileen tried to break in, but they paid no attention. “No one came last time.”
“I’ll send another release,” Bernie said. “Stir up interest.”
“For all the good the last one did,” Aileen said. “A waste of time and paper. Why don’t you just—”
“Let’s try the Internet. Send a—what do you call it?—an e-mail blast.”
“Sounds like a terrorist act.”
“We could take pictures of the pieces. Kate has a digital camera.”
“You planning on modeling them?”
“I just might!”
“One problem: no one has Internet around here.”
“Sullivan Dean has a computer. He takes it into the bar in Kinnabegs, doesn’t he? They have Wi-Fi there for the tourists. We could ask him.”
Kate had met several of the villagers, but he wasn’t among them. Perhaps he lived on the outskirts of town.
“Fine idea. Thank God he moved back to Glenmara. Staying at the old family home, he is.”
“Shame about what happened in London. Devastating for him.”
Colleen crossed herself. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
“No, he never speaks of it, except once at the pub, when he got drunk and the Guinness loosened his tongue. Couldn’t bear being in England any longer. Let his partner buy him out and moved here. Been making pottery ever since.”
“Not much of a way to make a living.”
“He’s got plenty of money. Set for life, I hear.”
“But not happiness.”
“No.”
“You’d never know to look at him. He looks right enough.”
“Don’t they all?”
Kate wondered what had happened to him but didn’t feel it was her place to ask.
“Remember Eamon Greene? He was never the same after that bombing in the North. Caught on the border. Just up to work on that construction job for his cousin. Bad business.”
“Eamon’s still in that home, isn’t he? Near Galway.”
“His poor mother. She moved there, to be near him.”
“He was going to be married, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. The girl left him. But who could blame her? He wasn’t the same. Looked right enough on the surface, but broken inside. Doesn’t speak a word.”
They fell silent for a moment.
“Do you really think people will buy the lace?” Moira asked.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Colleen said.
“What if the pieces don’t sell?” Aileen asked.
“No matter.” Bernie shrugged. “All the more for us. Besides, we’re only going to make a few samples, aren’t we?”
“What do you want to call yourselves?” Kate asked.
“Call ourselves? We’re the lace society. And you’re one of us now,” Bernie replied.
“I mean for a business name.”
“Are we in business?” Aileen asked. “With a few pairs of knickers to our name?”
“You could be,” Kate said. If nothing else, the lace could give the women some extra income, help make ends truly meet. “People love things that are unique and handmade, especially these days.”
“We need something catchy,” Colleen mused.
“Catchy,” they echoed.
“Sweet Nothings?” Oona said.
“Bare Necessities?” Moira offered.
“I think those have been used,” Kate said.
“What about Sheer Delights?” Bernie suggested.
They considered. “That’s good. Yes, that might do.