Luck of the Irish

"We're Americans the rest of o' the year but on this one day we look back on our roots and remember where we came from. And that, my dear boyo, is why you're going to be at the party. There's no ifs, ands, or buts aboot it."

I opened my mouth to argue but the fierce scowl on her face had my lips shutting with a snap. Mam might have been a small woman but she could be a force to be reckoned with. I wasn't about to get her gander up.

"Yes, Mam," I bit back a sigh, "I'll be there."

"It starts at one 'o clock in the afternoon. On the dot." She cocked her head and loose red hair fell across her cheeks, "On second thought, I think I'll be askin' ya to stay the night. You can sleep in yer old bedroom and come the morn, you can help decorate the house and move tables for me."

"Aw, Mam--"

"No arguing with yer Máthair, now. There's a good lad." She patted my cheek and skipped like a sprite back to the kitchen to continue baking for the party.

There was a laugh from the staircase.

"I see you've been roped into this year's party." Da said. His green eyes twinkled behind his glasses and he shifted a thick tomb from one hand to the other. He sat on a step and motioned me over.

"Won't Mam ever grow up?" I complained as I sat. Her fairy-like voice drifted down the hallway and we paused to listen to her sing a line or two of A Stor Mo Chroi before Da cleared his throat.

"Ach, she's one o' the wee folk," Da grinned, "She'll never grow up."

"But this party, Da." I rubbed the back of my neck and squeezed my eyes shut in frustration, "It was all well and good when I was eight. But I'm not a little boy anymore--"

"All the more reason why yer Mam wants you here. I hear there'll be a bunch of females attending this party. You've been abroad so long, yer Mam is anxious to show ya off."

I felt my brows furrow and the hairs on my arms stood on end.

"Da...please don't tell me--"

He stood and squeezed the back of my neck. "You couldn't hide forever, Patrick. And now that yer a man..." his voice trailed off into a chuckle. With a wink and a nod he escaped to his office.

I dropped my head to my hands and groaned. I was doomed.

When morning came my eyes cracked open to green. Green shamrocks, green crepe paper, green glitter...it looked like a leprechaun had thrown up in my room. I hid my head under the blankets, determined to stay hidden until the day had passed.

Mam had other ideas.

She jerked the blankets off the bed, just like she used to do most every school morn. Only this morning she handed me the tail end of yarn...green yarn.

"I'm too old for this game, Mam." I moaned.

"Yer never too old for this game, Patrick." the freckles danced across her nose as she bounced on her heels, "C'mon, son. Follow the yarn and see where it leads! Who knows?" she leaned forward and whispered, "You might find a pot 'o gold at the end!"

I padded barefoot down the hall, rolling the yarn up as I walked along in my boxers.

"Oh, look," I feigned a cheerful smile, "Breakfast." The yarn had ended at the dining room table. There was a plate set for me with our traditional green eggs and ham. Even the milk was dyed green. Scattered around my plate were gold-covered chocolates.

"Like I said," Mam giggled, "Gold!"

"Mam, you do remember I'm not a kid anymore...right?"

"Of course, Patrick," she swatted my shoulder, "But growin' up doesn't mean ya don't have fun anymore. Speakin' of fun, yer old friend Alex stopped by."

"Really? I haven't seen Alex in years. When--"

A toilet flushed and a door squeaked open. Before I could say Home Sweet Home Alex was standing in the dining room. And me in my trousers.

"Long time no see," She coughed back a laugh, "I see you still like SpongeBob."

"Oh, dear," Mam snorted and hid a smile behind her hand, "I'm so sorry, Patrick. I didna think..."

Heat was crawling up my neck. Shite! Pretend this is normal! I thought to myself.

"Hello, Alex."

She cocked her head and shook my hand. The merriment in her brown eyes was hard to miss.

"I go by Alexandra now."

"Alexandra. Sorry. If you'll, uh, excuse me." I gestured at my boxers and felt my face flush, "I'll just go change..."

I managed to keep my poise until I left her sight and then I was running up the stairs to my bedroom. I ignored the fact that she probably heard my feet thumping up the steps. I pressed my bare back against the closed door and tried to calm my heart. I had never been so embarrassed in my life.

And then I discovered that Mam had removed all my regular clothes and left me with green slacks, a green cotton shirt, and green socks. The garb was tradition, after all. It was just my luck that I'd be walking around like a piece of broccoli while my old best friend was in the house. My old best friend that had somehow metamorphosed from a gangly girl into an attractive woman. I reached for the shirt and slipped it over my head. My embarrassment level was about to hit an all time low.

I marched down the stairs and found Alexandra helping Mam make up the punch.

"Mam, are you going to make everything green today?" I teased.

She nudged me with her elbow, "As much as I can, boyo. Now get on out of the kitchen and help yer Da set up the outside tables. After that, there's some crepe paper I'd like you to string up for me."

Alexandra cast a mischievous grin at me as she dribbled dye into the punch, "No Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle shirt?"

I stuck my tongue out at her, feeling like I was five-years-old, "Naw, that one only comes out for special occasions."

Mam paused from dropping ice in the punch and frowned at me, "Stop distracting my help, Patrick." I ducked through the doorway as she chucked a cube towards my head. Alexandra's laugh followed me outside.

As the hours passed I found myself looking for little ways to cross Alexandra's path: A bump in the kitchen to grab a stack of plates, a chuckle in the backyard as we started up the charcoals for the big barbeque. Eventually the guests arrived and she melted into a crowd of skirts and makeup.

It was the fourth female "introduction" by Mam that drove me into the house.

"I'll just, uh, grab some more napkins." I ignored the gleam in Mam's eye and scurried through the sliding glass doors to the kitchen.

Hiding in my bedroom would be too obvious. Da had found me under the bed far too many times to rely on it as a hiding spot. The bathroom would be a dead giveaway, given the amount of estrogen wandering around the place.

"Help me out, here!" I begged, rolling my eyes to the ceiling to let my Maker know I was addressing Him.

My eyes caught on the hall closet door. I could burrow behind the guests' perfume-laden coats and sweaters and, hopefully, get an hour's respite before exposing myself again to the husband-hunting party.

I checked the hall to make sure the coast was clear, turned the knob, and slipped through the cracked door.

"Don't shut the--"

I startled at the voice and the door clicked shut behind me.

"--door," The voice groaned.

"Alexandra?" I was baffled, "What are you doing in here?" I squinted in the dark and could vaguely see her sitting at the back of the closet, her back pressed to the wall. I took a step and tripped over a random box. I crawled the rest of the way over to her.

"I could ask you the same thing," She sniggered as I accidentally sat on one of Mam's high heeled shoes.

"Too many marriage proposals. I had to get some air," I laughed, "You?"

"Your mother asked me to fetch her lucky sweater. She said it was in a green box at the back of this closet. But the door swung shut on me and apparently it locks on the outside..." she trailed off and I could feel her shrug against my shoulder, "I've been stuck for a little while now."

"Waiting for a knight in shining armor to come save you, eh?"

She kicked my foot, "Arse."

"Says the woman wearing the shamrock hat," I teased. My eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to watch her bury her face in her hands, the little shamrocks on her hat danced with the movement.

"Thought I couldn't see that, huh?" My laugh earned me an elbow in the ribs.

"I was just joining in with the holiday spirit."

"In that case," I cleared my throat, "You might be interested to know that when a couple sits under the form of a shamrock, they have to share a kiss."

"That's mistletoe, ding-dong!"

"You think I'd lie about something as serious as this?" I feigned hurt, "Fine then. Break St. Patty's tradition. We'll see what kind of luck it earns you."

She was quiet for a moment, "Well, I wouldn't want to have bad luck for the next seven years..." Her hands caressed my cheeks as she lifted her lips to mine.

Something exploded in my chest when our lips met.

"Alexandra..." I murmured against her hair, "I think...I think táim i ngrá leat."

She sank back into my arms with a sigh, "You lucky Irish boy...I think I'm in love with you, too."