The weeks between Niamh's baby shower and the All Hallow's Eve party are moving too fast for Maggie Macallister! The formerly slow business at the pub has returned to what Assumpta tells her is a normal pace. Maggie and Orla are busy every night, often until the wee hours cleaning up, and daytime business is enough to prevent Maggie from doing the cooking she'd like to do to provide decent meals to her patrons. One Sunday morning, Maggie and Assumpta are talking on the phone.

"Well, you'll either need more help out front, Maggie, or you'll have to quit serving meals," Assumpta tells her friend.

"I know, but part of what has business booming is my homemade soups and breads, Assumpta. You know I'm not a big fan of just providing booze to the boozers, I like the family trade, but I know it's a pub, too. Serving meals to families with things like beer for the adults is more my cup of tea." Maggie sounds worried and more than a little conflicted. Assumpta offers a solution.

"Well, how about just offering meals in the evening, or just lunches, no dinners. Orla could handle the evening drinkers, I'll bet, leaving you free to cook for the next day's lunches. And of course, before long, the tourist season will be really over, and things will slow down again, you know." Assumpta puts all the reassurance she can into her voice.

"That's true, I guess I had kind of forgotten that. I've never run an eatery of any kind before, let alone one in a tourist location. Maybe I'll talk it over with Orla and see if she can hold out a little longer, and if we can make it through the tourist season, then we can both kick back for the winter. The locals will keep me busy enough, I imagine. I know Connor would be happier to have Orla home, more, too. At least I can send meals home with her to keep them both fed right now, while she can't be home to cook. And his fishing business is so sporadic, the opportunity for them to save up now is probably welcome, not that I'd ever let them starve!" Maggie sounds a little happier, she sees light at the end of the tunnel.

"Maggie, if you could, you'd feed the entire planet!" Assumpta chides the older woman.

"Yeah, I would, I guess those news clips of starving children around the world warped my young psyche, huh? But it really frosts me, you know, Assumpta, when I know for a fact that there's enough food to go around, and the reason it doesn't get where it's needed is greed and politics!"

"Don't get on the soapbox, now, Maggie, or you'll blow an artery and then you'll have Father Mac to contend with, just when you thought you were rid of him!" Assumpta has laughter in her voice.

"Oh, Gods and little green apples, don't *remind* me of that man!  Maggie bursts into laughter herself. "Not that he wasn't a worthy adversary, and of course teasing Vincent Sheehan doesn't seem quite fair, he's such a big gentle bear of a man, I feel mean. He and Peter Clifford are a new breed, Assumpta, no doubt about it. I only hope the Church recognizes their value, and that of men like them. Not that I'll see changes even in my lifetime, but maybe in another millenium that religion will begin to approach the ideal of it's founder." Maggie sighs.

"Hey, now, don't go pushing the Church to appreciate Peter *too* much, Maggie, or how can I compete?" Assumpta is now the one with the worry in her voice.

"Oy vey, girl, I don't think an incarnate angel could compete with you in Peter Clifford's eyes! Speaking of which, what are you going to wear as a costume to this shindig?" Maggie and Assumpta begin to talk of costumes and party preparations in the one day a week when opening an establishment that serves alcohol is not a priority.

That evening Maggie is having Brendan, Siobhan, Niamh and Sean over for supper, along with the children. Maggie does not open the pub on Sundays, she has decided she needs one day a week in which to catch up, Orla needs a day of rest, and what better day than the customary one of Sunday. At lunchtime on Sundays Maggie goes up to the Byrne farm for a few hours with her old horse, while Danny makes his weekly trip into Dublin to see his uncle. She often takes a few dishes to stash in his freezer so he doesn't have to eat out of cans all week. Sunday afternoons and evenings are her chance to stock up the pub's larder, but this particular evening she has party preparations to discuss.

After supper, Aisling and Kieran are offered their choice of a movie to watch from among the parentally approved videos, and are soon engrossed in a cartoon, while the adults gather at the bar to talk.

"Well, Brendan, what was the school council's consensus, do we go ahead with the party in the school gymnasium or not?" Maggie asks the Headmaster.

"We can, Maggie, if you feel you are up to it," Brendan answers her.

"I am, now, Brendan. The daily tourist rush is over, the kids are back in school so the parents stay home more in the eveings now, and Orla and I are caught up in the pub, we're ready for a nice slow winter. Maybe I shouldn't have thanked Peter Clifford for his tacit stamp of approval last summer, though, I thought I was going to collapse when business picked up so much!"

"You have him to thank for the Council's approval of the kid's party, too, ya know," Brendan tells her, "he's on the school council now, in place of Father Mac, and he's much less hidebound, for all he represents the Church, still. He's been a pleasure to work with, that's for sure, and he likes the kids as much as they like him, so it's better all 'round!"

"I'm not suprised," Niamh joins in, "he's always been good with kids, he was the only one of us besides Ambrose and me who could keep that one happy when he was a wee lad." She nods in the direction of Kieran.

"I only hope I'm as good a dad as Ambrose was!" Sean puts his arm around Niamh's shoulders, and she smiles at him.

"Now, love, you're not a new dad, ya know," she tells him. "You had Emma and did fine with her, this little one will do fine, too!"  They exchange smiles, and Sean kissed Niamh on the cheek.

"Nice vote of confidence, I think!" Maggie raises her coffee cup, "to Sean and Niamh and a new joy in their lives!" Other cups and glasses are raised, and a quiet toast enjoyed. "So, Orla, Connor and Donal will help me bring over the supplies, and the parents will be decorating the gym, you say, Brendan. You and Sean have the games arranged?"

"Yeah," Sean answers, "we aren't gonna do much athletics, not inside and all, more stuff like ring toss and other target games, and Niamh, tell Maggie what you've arranged."

"Well, the kids'll be out of practice, but we thought we'd do a bit of dancing, anyway, up on the stage. We'll do that first, for the parents and little kids to watch, then let the school kids loose to play a while," Niamh offers.

"Wonderful, I love to watch the kids dancing, I still stand in awe of feet able to move that fast. Plus, that'll give me a little extra time to finish setting up the 'haunted house' area at the other end of the gym. Donal has a skeleton costume, Connor's gonna be Frankenstein's monster, Orla's gonna be a ghost, and I'll be a witch. I've got some dry ice on order to make it all misty and smoky looking, and at the end, after having a good scare, there'll be a 'Good Fairy' to hand out candy. Are the parents signed up to take turns at the refreshment table?" Maggie asks.

"Yeah, got all the slots filled, and I'm sure we can get the older kids to help a bit, too, if we need to," Brendan answers her question. "Do you need help making cookies, drinks, anything?"

"No, I'm helping with that, if you promise to leave some of what I've baked for the kids!" Siobhan tells her husband, laughing. "Plus, Assumpta's comin' down two days ahead, an' she and Maggie and Orla will be gettin' everything ready."

"I still wonder if this is a good idea," Brendan tells them all. "I'd have thought it would be a safer thing to let Assumpta meet Peter privately, in case it goes bad."

"Well, we did alot of talking, Brendan," Maggie answers, "and of course Assumpta will be masked and made up, nobody will know who she is that night, not until way later. We'll make sure Peter ends up coming back here after the party, along with Orla and Connor to put things away a bit. Will the parents handle the gym clean-up the next day?"

"They will, not a problem. Good thing Halloween falls on a Saturday this year, makes things easier for cleaning up!" Brendan answers Maggie's question.

"That's the one reason we decided to have this big a party, otherwise we were going to have a masked ball for adults only. But this lets the whole community do something for the kids, and lets Assumpta sort of feel out her reactions to Peter, and make her final decision. If she decides she's going to let sleeping dogs lie, then we can leave Peter at the gym with you all, if she gives it the go-ahead I'll get him back here on some pretext, and she'll unmask and take the plunge. I know Connor can handle him if things get out of hand, but I don't forsee that. Will you keep your cell-phone on, Siobhan, so I can call you all in for reinforcements, so to speak? I hope he doesn't flip!"

"Not Peter, but you may have to lock him in an' make him sit and listen, he'll be angry, I'm bettin'," Brendan offers. "I will keep the cell phone on, Maggie, and after we see the kids off, we'll stop by here," Siobhan tells her.

"We'll come by, too, and hope we can have a drink with you all, in a happy celebration," Niamh tells the group. "I hope this goes well, I want Assumpta to be happy, really I do, but I'm still not sure Peter is her best chance at that happiness. Plus, I know all of us will miss him if he leaves the Church, he's always been a good priest, he really has. It's a sad thing for everyone that good men have to make such choices!"

"It is indeed, but it's the sad circumstance those two have to live with. I feel badly for both of them, and for others in their shoes, like Frankie Sullivan. Does anyone know, did Aidan feel the same, or was Frankie telling the truth at your shower, Niamh, was he just a passing fancy for her?" Maggie asks the rest.

"I can't say for sure," Siobhan answers, "but I think he might have, in some part at least. At your wedding, Niamah and Sean, I saw him look at her more than once with what could easily have been some longing." Siobhan sighs and shakes her head.

"Well, there's sadness a'plenty in this world, but let's hope to lift a little of it with this party, anyway, huh?" Maggie stands up, and goes into the kitchen, then returns with a bottle, and takes small wine glasses out from under the counter. She pours a cloudy brown liquid into the glasses, and passes them out. "Give this a try, I think it's got little enough alcohol it's safe for you, too, Niamh. It's real apple cider, let's see if it's any good, and I'll carry it this fall for people who like it." They all sip a little, and Maggie smiles. "Whad'ya think?"

Brendan and Siobhan nod, "though it's a little sweet for my taste," Brendan offers.

"I like it, though I won't have much," Niamh answers, and Sean nods, "It's sweet, but a nice change, now and again."

Maggie lifts her glass, "Then, to Peter and Assumpta, may their future be filled with happiness, whether they wind up together, or not."  They all drain the small drinks, and stand. An hour has passed in conversation, the cartoon is almost over, and the kids will need to be in bed before long, so the supper party breaks up.

Maggie settles her kitchen to rights, and calls Assumpta for a quick chat, to tell her the children's party is a go, and both women wish each other a good night, and hang up, knowing another work week starts in the morning.

September bows out, and October comes in with increasingly wintery weather. Maggie sees fewer customers, but her soups and stews remain a favorite with many of the local folk. Mid-month, posters begin going up for the Halloween party, and parents begin helping children with costumes. Maggie, Orla, Donal and Connor begin building the pieces of their haunted house, painting fake stone walls of a "castle", sewing and painting sheets and draperies. Maggie goes to Dublin to buy a huge plastic cauldron that can hold dry ice and some water for her "witches' brew", as well as some theatrical make-up. On the Thursday before the party, Assumpta arrives with several bags, and she and Maggie leave the pub service to Orla, and stay in the kitchen, baking. Vincent Sheehan has convinced Maggie to let him be part of the Haunted House crew, he picks vampire over werewolf for his costume, and he and Connor and Donal hammer together a plywood "coffin" for him to rise from.

"Whoever heard of a blonde vampire!" Assumpta tells Maggie on Friday, and the women laugh.

"Well, if you can get him to hold still, Assumpta, you can dye his hair black!" Maggie tells her.

Saturday morning, Maggie and all her crew except for Assumpta make several trips to the school, and assemble the Haunted House. By setting up narrow passageways of painted plywood, and curving the corridors, they manage to set up three "rooms", one for a skeleton and Frankenstein's Monster to emerge from curtained alcoves, one for the vampire to rise from his grave, and one for the witch to invite children to "try her brew". Concealed switches will allow the "cast" to illuminate or darken their parts of the set as needed, and to start taped music and terrified screaming to fit the occasion. With the set ready, they turn to the refreshment area, and the van makes another trip to the pub and back, loaded with boxes and boxes of cookies and treats, plus many gallons of soda pop and fruit drinks. Finally, the dry ice and wet ice are brought in, the dry ice being used to keep the molded wet ice frozen until it can be put into punch bowls. Maggie has frozen latex gloves and plain face masks full of water, to provide "floating hands and faces" in the cranberry-apple punch, which has been spiked with red food coloring to assure a spooky "blood punch" appearance. Finally, with all done that can be, the crew returns to the pub. Donal has been told the story of how Assumpta didn't die, and has spoken with her during her short time back. He is fully ready to keep the secret, and understands the reason for it. Assumpta tells Maggie how suprised she is at the transformation in Donal, and Maggie assures her it is really just the increased self-confidence he has gained from moving first out of Brian Quigley's shadow, then out of Liam's influence.

"Well, good for him, he's a better man for it, and a nicer lad than I knew, too," Assumpta tells her friend.

A quick early supper is shared, and costumes are donned. Maggie helps Assumpta get dressed first, so she can be seen without being recognized. Assumpta is dressed in layers and layers of mint green chiffon over a mint green body suit and stockings. She is wearing silver body paint on her hands, neck, face and feet, and silver ballet slippers on her feet as well, with silver ribbons winding up her legs. Her hair is teased and sprayed with silver glitter to fluff out in an aura around her head, and a glittery head-dress with star-tipped antennae nestles across the top of her head. A dark green mask, appearing to be made out of leaves, conceals her forehead, eyes, and nose, leaving only her mouth and chin unconcealed. She wears a short dark green velvet cape over her shoulders, and has a "magic wand" with a star on the end of it, as well as a green velvet bag to hold "goodies" for the children.

Maggie dons the traditional long black dress, cape and pointy hat of black, and uses the same green face paint that Connor uses to become Frankenstein's Monster. Orla, all in white,  becomes the "White Lady", the ghost that will guide the travellers in their journey of horror. Orla and Vincent use white face makeup to achieve their ghostly or severely anemic appearances, and Vincent allows Maggie to use spray-on hair paint to turn his golden curls into a black, slicked back look. Fake fangs are glued onto his teeth, and he starts practicing a Transylvanian accent, which, overlaying his Aussie twang, soon has the group nearly in hysterics. Donal's skeleton body suit merely needs him to pull the hood over his head, so he escapes the make-up, which he silently thanks his lucky stars for, seeing Maggie struggle with the huge fake wart she is trying to glue on her chin, having already failed to get it to stick to her nose.

"Ya shoulda glued it on before you put the green stuff on, Maggie!" Orla tells her.

"Yeah, I know.... well, it's hopeless, I will just have to be a Wartless Witch!" Maggie giggles. "Well, oh Crew of Horror, let's get to our Haunted House and do a dry run, okay? Oh, I hope Brendan told Doc Ryan to have smelling salts handy, in case we scare some poor soul into fainting. The kids will probably think we're hokey, of course, but Kathleen Hendley'll pop her cork!"  They all hop into vehicles, and drive to the school, trying their best to sneak in the back unseen by kids and parents alike.

"No sunburn problems, Dracula?" Maggie stage-whispers to Vincent as they walk up a short hallway into the back of the gym.

He guffaws, wincing as one of the plastic fangs pokes his lip. "Naw, no worries, I used SPF 500 before I put the make-up on!"  They all giggle, excited at the fun they hope to have. The glee in dress-up and make-believe is not strictly limited to those under 15 years of age, after all.

Peter Clifford is there early as well, helping Brendan and Siobhan lay out trays of sweets and get the punch bowls ready. He watches Siobhan float ice hands and faces in the red punch, and is startled at how creepy they look. Niamh and Sean are helping the dancers get ready, and other parents and older children are readying the games area. Chairs are set up along the walls and in corners for those who want to sit and rest, but the center of the floor area is clear, some parents have brought a sound system to play music with, so kids big and little can do the Monster Mash if they want to. Peter spots Vincent outside the Haunted House, and asks him, "Who's who in there, anyway?"

"Well, I'm Dracula, I think you can tell that, Maggie's bein' a witch--"

"Typecasting herself?" Peter says softly.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Vincent chuckles, and continues, "Connor's doin' Frankenstein's Monster, Orla's a ghost, an Donal's a skeleton."

"Who's the fairy character?" Peter asks. "I didn't catch her name, she's a friend of Maggie's from Dublin. She was already in costume when I got there," Vincent tells him. "She's gonna hand out tricks an' treats to the kids at the end."

"I can guess candy's the treat," Peter asks, "but what's the trick?"

"Oh," Vincent tells him, "her wand will sprinkle them with glitter is all, you know, 'pixie dust'."

"Sounds fun, I hope the kids get a safe scare this way, and can giggle about it tomorrow," Peter  says.

"Maggie figures the kids will think we're 'hokey', an' we'll have the parents spooked instead, but we'll see. Gotta go now an' make sure I can get the lid up on that coffin!" Vincent ducks back inside the House, and Peter goes back to the cookies, snagging one brownie off a plate to munch on.

As daylight fades, the crowd of kids in costumes and parents come to supervise thickens, and soon Peter is called up to the stage to start the party. He introduces Niamh's young dancers, and exits the platform to watch. The dancers are appropriately applauded, and exit the stage, and the lights are lowered until the stage is nearly black.

A figure all in white seems to float down from the ceiling, and a female voice, seeming to come from a great distance, speaks as the figure beckons with outstretched hands, "Come, come, the Haunted House of Horror awaits youooooooo............."  The figure floats upwards again, then fades and vanishes.

Peter turns to see Brendan beside him. "How in the world..?" he begins, but Brendan whispers, "Computers and a projection system, Orla was inside the Haunted House the whole time."

Peter shakes his head, he's a little bemused by some aspects of modern technology. "Still, better than a fax machine in the confessional, eh?" Brendan says to him, and turns to oversee the ring toss, chuckling.

Peter decides the House of Horror is awaiting him, and heads that way, but is intercepted by some kids who want him to be a judge in the costume contest. The party continues for a solid two hours, and Peter hears more than one comment from parents about how much fun the kids are having, and isn't that Haunted House amazing, how they made it seem so spooky, except Father Sheehan was having a hard time keeping Count Dracula from sounding like he was from Queensland instead of Transylvania.

Inside the Haunted House, Maggie pours a little more water on her dry ice, and waits for the "cauldron" to fill up with "smoke and mist", just before another group of kids and parents come into the "witches' lair". Vincent Sheehan is beginning to wish his coffin came with more padding, and Connor's "monster boots" are starting to feel heavy, but he valiantly clumps forward, arms outstretched to grope clumsily at a group of teenagers, who jump and squeal, startled in spite of themselves. Eventually, Orla, seeing no more waiting families or groups of kids, closes and latches the entrance door to the House of Horror, and comes through by herself, letting the rest of the "cast" know it's time to knock off and join the fun outside. They all join the Good Fairy at the exit door, tired but having enjoyed their little skits.

"Good thing we're done, I'm about out  of "fairy dust" for this thing, and I brought a whole pound of it!" Her wand's plastic star has small holes in it, allowing it to sprinkle glitter like powdered sugar on cookies.

The Monster and the White Lady migrate to the dance floor for the master's rendition of the Monster Mash, the Wicked Witch begins serving up punch and cookies instead of "potions", the Skeleton joins the kids at the coin toss booth, pitching pennies into plastic jack-o-lanterns, and the Good Fairy wanders the floor, eventually tagging the Headmaster with her fairy wand and demanding a dance. Peter taps the Wicked Witch, who has removed her hat, on the shoulder.

"Who's your friend from Dublin?" he nods towards Brendan and the Fairy.

"Oh, that's Fionn's previous Mom, Peter, she agreed to come down and help out. She made a good portion of these cookies, as well as helping in the Haunted House. Say, did Doc Ryan have to use any smelling salts?"  Maggie laughs.

"No, but the kids did have some good fun in there, it sounds like," he tells her.

"Good, that's what we were hoping, to give them a harmless scare. The world's a scary enough place for real, but it's still part of the human psyche to love jumping out of our skin at something that we know isn't real." Maggie smiles. "Say, why don't you come back to the pub when we get done here, we can have a talk about how Samhain got co-opted into All Soul's Day by the early Christian Church here in Ireland?" Maggie has gotten the nod from Assumpta, and prepares to move the plan forward.

"Okay, and maybe I can finally meet this mystery lady who seemingly has no name other than 'Fionn's Mum', too, eh?"

"Yes, Peter, she actually wants to talk to you, too." Maggie smiles, as inside her stomach ties itself in a knot. Peter heads out onto the dance floor himself, and cuts in between the Headmaster and the Good Fairy, who smiles at him but steadfastly refuses to speak. Soon the White Lady grabs the priest as the Monster twirls the Fairy away, and when Peter next looks, the Fairy has vanished from the room.

Assumpta has made an early exit and goes back to the pub to get her costume and make-up off, and get ready for what is either going to be one of the best or worst nights of her life.

The party winds up with the final judging of the Best Costume, the prize going to a little girl in a ladybug costume which has battery-powered wings that spread outwards and make whirring sounds, and the Witch and her friends pack the few leftover goodies into the school kitchen's large refrigerator. Children and parents depart, being enjoined to come to mass the next day, most incongruously, by an Australian Count Dracula, who is lisping around his plastic fangs.

The doors close, and Vincent quickly begs Maggie to help him get the fangs off before he goes home. She pulls some nail polish remover and cotton swabs from her bag, tells him to open wide, and the fangs are popped off. A quick rinse with water and a glass of punch, and Vincent's mouth is not much the worse for wear. He employs one final swirl of his cape, and intones, "I return to my castle, to sleep in my lonely coffin!", before heading out himself, hopping into a red Granada rather than a coach drawn by black horses, and driving off to the curate's house. The remaining friends laugh.

"I think Father Sheehan got into that role a little heavily, Father Clifford! See what comes of turning wine into blood on a daily basis?" Maggie pokes a gentle elbow in Peter's ribs, and after a second he gets the joke, too, and laughs in turn. "Vell, my good vitch," he intones in a far better Transylvanian accent than Vincent used, "Ve do our best, but it still tastes like vine, ah ha ha ha ha!" Everyone laughs.

"I think we're just about done here, Maggie." Orla says soon after. "How about we head back to the pub and get this make-up off?"

"Yeah, it's about time, isn't it?" Maggie says. "So, Peter, want to join us?"

"You bet, especially if you have any oaken stakes, I may need to go have a talk with Father Sheehan and make sure he takes that cape off some time tonight!"

Maggie and the crew say goodnight, and Donal hitches a ride to the pub with them, and then takes his own car home. Maggie thanks him warmly for his help, and closes the front door. Orla and Connor head upstairs, and soon Connor is heard complaining as Orla rubs the cold cream off his face too vigorously for his liking. Maggie sets her hat on the kitchen counter and offers Peter his choice of drinks, and he opts for a pint of ale. Maggie has a glass of cold cider, herself, then tells Peter to make himself comfortable, she's going to go up and change as well. She heads up the stairs, and at the top, meets Assumpta. She puts her hands on the younger woman's shoulders briefly, and asks, "All ready?" Assumpta nods, her face is pale from both scrubbing and some worry. "Goddess Bless, sister, be strong, we'll be here if you need us." Maggie goes to her room, and Assumpta squares her shoulders, and descends the stairs.

Peter Clifford hears footsteps descending the stairs and turns, saying, "That was fast, Maggie," to realize it is not Maggie MacAllister coming into the room. As the woman's face comes into his view, he stands up from his stool, turns dead white, and pitches forward in a faint.

"Oh, damn!" Assumpta swears.

"What, what's wrong?" Maggie is at the top of the stairs, her hair pulled back and the green make-up gone, but still in the black costume.

"He's fainted!" Assumpta turns and tells her. Connor and Orla follow Maggie down the stairs, between them they get Peter Clifford onto a couch with his feet elevated on one end, and his head flat on the seat at the other. Maggie gets some ice for the bruise Peter is developing on his forehead, and kneels next to him. Assumpta sits on a chair at the head of the couch, Connor and Orla sit on the opposite couch.

Peter comes to, feeling his forehead being chilled, and hearing two voices calling his name. He first sees the concerned face of Maggie leaning over him, and grabs her hand. "Ah've seen a ghost, Maggie, Ah swear, or else Ah'm goin' mad, because Ah've not had that much ta drink!" Peter's childhood accent is strong, he's in the grip of more emotion than he's felt in years.

"No, Peter, you're not mad, though I'm afraid you're going to be angry," Maggie tells him softly. "Now, carefully, sit up slowly."  He swings his feet around to the floor, and sits up.

"Peter," Assumpta says his name softly. He turns his head, and reaches for her hand, she takes his hand as he reaches.

"Is it you?" he asks.

"Yes," and she moves from the chair to the couch beside him.

Maggie stands, and she, Orla and Connor go into the kitchen, they leave the door open.

"Peter, promise me you won't hit anybody or break anything?" Assumpta asks.

"I don't know, are promises made in dreams binding?" His face is still pale. "This is a dream, it has to be, I was there, I saw you die. Or else these last five years have been a dream and I'm just wakin' up."

"I didn't die, Peter, and it hasn't been a dream. It all happened, only not the way I wanted it to happen. Promise me you won't yell or hit anybody, and I'll explain. You may never want to see me again, but I hope you'll understand."

"Okay, I won't hit anybody, but I won't ever let you out of my sight, either, ever again, no matter what!" Peter takes her other hand, and grips tightly. He is still not sure she is real.

"Peter, remember, we had made plans to be together, right? But you know, there was still Leo, and Father Mac, and the whole town. We knew there was going to be a scandal, and it was going to be rough, really rough. Well, I thought I saw a way around it, and so I talked to a couple of people, and we came up with an idea. Peter, I want you to remember something, it's really important. Remember I told you my parents fought, and eventually were separated, even though Father Mac tried to make them stay together?"

"Yeah, you told me about it, I remember."

"Peter, my parents really loved each other, but they were so different, and both of them felt they had to fight to be right, all the time. They couldn't agree on whether it was day or night, I think. I remembered that, and how you and I used to disagree, too, and how I'd lose my temper and say things, then I'd regret them, but you were so hurt. And I remembered how you were so sure when you went on retreat that your Church was more to you than I was. And, well, I was afraid. I was afraid that we'd fight, that I'd say something, and that you'd leave me, and go back to the Church. So, I'm sorry, Peter, but I was so afraid, I decided to test you."

"Test me, how?" Peter's voice still shows shock as well as wonder.

"Remember when I drove you up the mountain, that night before you got the bike? And how I told you I thought you'd come anyway, for me, even if you knew you weren't wanted? I decided I'd see if you really understood me, I decided to fake my death, and see if I meant more to you than the Church did. And Peter, you did it, knowing I didn't want it. You gave me Last Rites, you listened to your Church instead of your heart. I didn't think you would, I thought you'd refuse, and then, the next day, Brendan and Doc Ryan and Ambrose were going to get you out of town, to meet me, so we could go away together, without anyone the wiser. But I was so upset, I couldn't believe it, I, I just was so hurt, I ran. Instead of waiting for you, I ran. I'm sorry, I should have had this out with you then, but I couldn't. Everyone helped me, covered for me, and got me to Dublin.  And then, a few days later, when I'd cooled down, I found out you'd left, too. And I let it go, I just let it go. I'm sorry Peter, but I couldn't understand, I just hurt too badly, and I let it all go rather than try to work it out. I'll understand if you never forgive me, Peter."

Assumpta turns her face away, and pulls her hands from Peter's grasp, sitting slumped on the sofa, her hands knotted in her lap. Peter sits back, staring straight forward as well.

"You didn't die, you faked your death?" Peter states it almost mechanically.

"Yes, so we could get out of town together, start over somewhere without all the scandal following us." Assumpta replies.

"Who knew, besides Brendan and Doc Ryan and Ambrose?"

"Nobody but them and Maggie and Siobhan, we told Niamh later that night."

"But you were in the ambulance, in the morgue...?"

"Not me, it was a fake, a mannequin. Doc Ryan took it to a crematorium, before Leo could take it to have it buried. We knew it'd never pass as a body if it was examined closely."

"You were testing me, testing my love?" Peter is coming out of shock, he turns to Assumpta on the couch, and anger is, for the first time, audible in his voice.

"Yes, it was wrong, but I had to know, I had to know if I meant as much to you as you meant to me, or if the Church could still come between us. I figured if it did, better it happen right away than after a year or two. I didn't want my kids to grow up hearing their mother scream at their father, never knowing if their father was coming home after he stormed out the door. I lived like that for years, Peter. I figured if you were going to leave me some day, and go back to the Church, better I find out from the beginning, before we went any further, and most certainly before we got married and had children!" Assumpta is trying to remain calm, but her voice is shaking.

"Oh, Assumpta, Ah'd have *never* left you, never!" and Peter finally breaks down, sobbing.

"Peter!" Assumpta turns towards him and throws her arms around his neck, also starting to sob.

In the kitchen, Maggie closes the door gently, and phones Siobhan, telling them if they come, come in the back door. Siobhan asks how it's going, and Maggie tells her she thinks it's going to be okay. Siobhan tells Maggie they'll throw the party some other time, and she and Brendan and Sean and Niamh will go home. Maggie turns off her cell phone, and she, Connor and Orla whisper their good-nights as well. Orla and Connor slip out the back quietly, and Maggie goes out the back as well. She leans a ladder against the railing of the little deck, climbs it, and slips in the door of her bedroom, closing it, then closing the hall door as well. Downstairs, Peter and Assumpta cling to each other, unwilling to say another word for the moment.

Eventually, Peter lifts his face from Assumpta's shoulder, looks her in the eyes, and says, "I'm sorry. I am sorry, I did fail you. I knew better, but I went ahead and did as I was told. I should have listened to my heart, but I listened to Father Mac and Brendan. Why did Brendan tell me to do it?"

"Never hear of a Devil's Advocate?" Assumpta asks.

"Oh..." Peter's reply trails off.

"Peter, I'm sorry, too, I should never have tested you, I should never have concocted that wild scheme to sneak out of town. But I was afraid, afraid that there'd be so much gossip and scandal, and then we'd have half the townspeople looking over our shoulders, watching and waiting for our marriage to fail, and then you'd leave me, and I'd be even more of a laughingstock, and even more alone." Assumpta leans against his shoulder.

"We were both wrong, weren't we?" Peter whispers into her hair.

"Yes, and now, can we ever make it right?" Assumpta sits up, and turns to look Peter square in the face. "Peter, you have even more of a reason to stay in the Church now, you're a parish priest, loved and respected by hundreds of people all around the county. And it's been five years, I understand that your feelings may have cooled, dimmed, in all this time, thinking I was gone. I'm partners with my friend Bonnie, in that wine bar in Dublin. I've made a new life, too, in a way. Maggie called me when you came back, and I did alot of thinking. I've done some growing, spiritually, in this time, and I've come to see how wrong I was to test you, and to understand your devotion to the Church, to your God, more than I used to. I've shed some bitterness and some anger, and I hope I've become a better person. In all my thinking, these past months, I kept thinking 'how can I take him away from his Church?', and also 'how can I not, I still love him'. I do still love you, Peter, you're the only man I've ever loved like this, and I'll love you 'til the day I die, but I will also live without you if I must, if you cannot leave your Church, and I will not begrudge you your choice. I won't demand your love, only offer mine, and let you make your choice freely, in whatever time it takes you to do so."

"Assumpta, I don't know what to say. Tonight has been such a shock, I still almost think I'm dreaming. My heart tells me to throw myself at your feet, beg you to love me, beg you to marry me, but my head is still reeling, in shock. I don't know what to do."

"Peter, go home, go home and think, and pray. Take as much time as you need. When you're ready, call Maggie, and she'll give you my number, and we'll talk. Drive carefully, though, love, because the Gates between the Worlds are open tonight, and if you drove through one of them, and I lost you again, I don't think I could live." Assumpta slides her arms around Peter's waist, and rests her head against his chest. "I don't think I could live, knowing you were gone outside this world," she whispers.

"The gates between the worlds?...." Peter is staring above her head, his arms wrap around her reflexively. "The Gates Between the Worlds are open!" He closes his eyes, rests his cheek on the top of her head for a moment, then lifts his head again, and pulls a little away. He reaches up with one hand, ruffles her short hair. "You look so different, it's so short now. You do look like a fairy, even in a blouse and skirt." He lifts the curls off her ears. "No points, though, guess you can't be a fairy without pointy ears!"

"Peter, what are you talking about?" Assumpta is looking into a widely smiling face.

"Assumpta Fitzgerald?" Peter looks down at her.

"Yes?" she replies.

"I love you, will you marry me?"

Assumpta's jaw drops open, then she smiles, and, reaching up, pulls on the white part of his collar. "Take that thing off before you say that to me!" She drops the collar on the low table, and stretches upwards as he bends down, and kisses her passionately on the lips.

Later, Maggie MacAllister slips quietly downstairs, locks all the doors, turns out the light, and slips back to her room, softly closing the door and delightedly but deliberately ignoring the sounds coming from Assumpta's bedroom at the other end of the hall. She turns the light out in her own room, and goes back to sleep.