Page 66 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
‘Who’s this tool?’ Amanda hisses in amazement.
‘Grace Algar. Will you marry me?’ Logan projects, then I immediately hear another, familiar voice from behind the church door.
‘What is happening in there?’
I stand up, my knees slightly buckled, I have no choice. I have to get out of here. ‘E-excuse me, sorry. Can – can I just get past you? Sorry, thank you .?.?. can I? C-can I pass?’ I mutter and stutter to the startled guests on my pew, utterly mortified that I’ve ruined the start of Belinda’s wedding. I’m trying to exit the other end of the pew so I can get out the side door and don’t have to step onto the aisle.
And just when I thought things couldn’t get any morecomplicated .?.?.
‘Grace, is thatyou?’ It’s that familiar man’s voice again. I glance up, holding onto the wooden ledge, still shimmying along the soft kneeler, but I don’t recognise him. I shuffle along, the end of the pew in sight, a ray of sunlight exposed from under the gap in the side door. Almost there.
‘Grace. It’sme.’ The man’s voice calls after me again as I finally step out of the pew. I turn back for a split second, then I take another step towards the side door. I stop suddenly and my brain rewinds. I turn back and do a double take.
It’s Donal.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Donal?! W-w-what? What have youdone?’
Donal looks completely different. Unrecognisable really.
‘Hi.’ He gives me a little wave. A fluttering of his long fingers. His expression confused.
‘Hi.’ Slowly, I raise my hand halfway in the air like a defeated Indian chief.
He’s dressed in a sharp, stylish, beautifully cut black suit with crisp white shirt and a black tie. But his long red hair is no more. Now it’s cut into a tight crop. It’s longer than a military buzzcut, but only just. I stare harder because I can’t quite believe what my eyes are showing me. And it’s only now that I also notice that he is clean shaven. His thick, wild beard is gone! Donal has cheekbones so high it makes him look completely different now that they are no longer hidden. He’s unbelievably handsome. Not that he wasn’t before, I realise. But even in the craziness of this bizarre moment, I recognise that every one of those five Beyond Looks dates that ran out on Donal would not have done so ifthiswas his profile picture!
‘Fu—’ Belinda realises her surroundings, checks herself. ‘Hoooooold on a holy-moly-moment! Don’t tell usthisis your Grace, bro?’ She steps into view beside Donal, staring at me, aghast. Even with the horrified expression, she is a vision in her wedding gown as the crystals catch the light flooding in, and sparkle like stars.
The organist stops playing. You could hear a pin drop in thechurch.
‘Are you okay?’ Donal locks eyes with me. Still kind. Still caring. He is the definition of maturity, this man.
‘Eh .?.?. I-I’m .?.?.’ I clutch the pointed, carved bench-end for dear life, like it’s my lifejacket. The gaping heads suddenly all swivel the other way, like it’s synchronised drama, as the priest now steps off the altar. He makes his way swiftly down the aisle, his soft shoes squeaking on the parquet floor, his vestment robe billowing lowly out behind him. We all watch him as he speaks in hushed tones into Amanda’s ear.
‘Gracie?’
I dart to look at Logan.
‘Grace?’
I dart back to Donal.
‘This is batshit,’ Belinda declares correctly.
‘Of all the gin joints in all the world .?.?.’ Denise says.
‘Not the time, Denise,’ Kathleen pipes in.
‘Grace, we need you to step outside a minute so we can restart the weddin’, like.’ Amanda glares at me, the priest by her side.
‘Yeah, come on, move outside,’ Denise throws at me now, unable to make eye contact with me.
‘Girl! You’re Peter R.’s Grace? Well I’ll be damned!’ Kathleen’s arms are crossed and her tone is kinder, but I’m beyond confused.
‘I’m so sorry about all this.’ Pushing myself off the pointed carved bench-end, I rush to the side door. Without thinking I dip my index finger into the holy-water fountain and bless myself, then scurry outside into the glaring sunshine. I’m momentarily blinded after the shadowiness of the church. I perch my hands over my eyebrows and see I’ve been followed closely by the entire bridal party, and Logan, out the front doors. The gravel crunches under them, like soldiers marching in battle. Then they surround me, all standing in a circle. My stomach lurches.
‘I had no idea .?.?. I’m .?.?.’ My warbling is interrupted by the arrival of the priest.
