Ballykissangel

Episode 9.9

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

by Camille Partridge



"Maggie, package for you!" Orla calls from the bar. It is a slow winter afternoon, and Maggie is again in her basement workshop, casting Kathleen and Dermot's wedding rings. She comes up the stairs after reaching a good stopping point. James has come into the front of the pub from the kitchen as well, and is staring, along with Orla, at a registered letter packet on the bar. He notes this envelope looks just the same as the letter he had sent Maggie some months before, and a weird feeling of dread is nagging at his nerves.

"Hmmm, I wonder what this is?" Maggie picks up the envelope, turning it in her hand to peel open the flap.

"Well, it was the same courier as before," Orla answers, carrying two pints out to the only occupied table in the pub.

"I knew it! That's the same company as I used to deliver that letter I sent you last fall, Maggie." James O'Connor looks over Maggie's shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, Jimmy, I guess I forgot to tell you about that other priest I was stringing along. Now I've test-driven you, I've decided to check him out and see which of you is better in bed!" Maggie turns her head to whisper in James' ear as he leans forward. He abruptly steps back, his face aghast. Maggie erupts in laughter, Orla and the pair of drinkers look at her quizzically. "Nothing, nothing, private joke..." Maggie tells them, taking O'Connor by the hand and leading him into the kitchen. She sits him down on a chair.

"Jimmy, don't be an idiot, you know better than that!" Maggie pulls a chair around to sit directly in front of him. "You are just going to have to learn to lighten up, Jimmy, or you are going to stroke out one of these days." Maggie's expression is wavering between amusement and concern.

O'Connor slumps forward and rests his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. "I know, Mags, I know, it's just that I can't help but worry, I still can't believe that you actually love me, that you want me. You could have had any other guy you wanted, and you chose me. Of course I get a little jealous." He smiles at his lover rather wanly.

Maggie sighs. "Jimmy, I don't know what I can do to re-assure you, you're just going to have to get used to it. Now, I'm going to open this letter, okay?"

"Of course, honey, I'm sorry I'm such a boob." He sits up and watches her peel open the envelope and pull out a letter, which she reads. Her face breaks into a wide grin, and she jumps to her feet, whooping with joy and throwing the letter into the air.

"Yeehaw! I gotta call Siobhan!" Maggie dashes into the front of the pub and grabs for the phone. O'Connor picks up the letter and reads it, them goes into the front of the pub as well, handing the letter to Orla. He is smiling, and soon Orla is, too.

"Siobhan, yeah, it's Maggie, say, I got the letter from your licensing board today... Yeah, they've recognized my license, and authorized me to practice!... Yeah, I'm thrilled, now I can help you when you need it, and especially when you have your new baby this summer!... Yeah, thanks, thanks for kicking me into gear to get started on this, I just never saw a reason before, but now it makes sense. Say, can I sit in on some spays, so I can learn that flank incision you guys do over here?... Yeah, we can go to some conferences if you want to, I'd love it! Talk to you later, thanks!" Maggie hangs up the phone, and turns to Orla and James.

"Maggie, this is great, but if you're helping Siobhan with her practice this summer, who's going to run the pub, besides me?" Orla gives her friend a hug, and the three go back into the kitchen, leaving the door propped open so the customers can call for service without having to shout.

"Yeah, it's time to do some long range planning, isn't it?" Maggie pours coffee for herself and James, while Orla puts a kettle on for a pot of tea. "I've been wondering, ever since last summer, what we were going to do. Now, it's gotten alot more urgent. Jimmy, you may need to learn to pull a pint or ten."

"Well, if I do, I do, but what about Connor? Or Niamh, little Brian should be old enough to do without his Mom for a few hours." O'Connor takes a sip of coffee.

"Connor'll be out fishing next summer, Jim, and Niamh will be double-busy, Brian will be crawling all over and starting to toddle, probably, and Kieran will be out of school and need watching, too. I think we may just need to hire some temporary help." Orla sets the steeping teapot on the table, along with her cup.

"Well, I won't be doing surgeries at night, but daytime help, yeah, we probably will have to hire some. And odds are it will only be for a month or so after Siobhan's little boy is born." Maggie takes a big swallow of coffee. "And question next, what are Peter and Assumpta going to do?"

*****

In Dublin, as February progresses, Assumpta's pregnancy starts to become noticeable, and she and Bonnie have a long, serious talk, one afternoon. Peter is out that day, having gone to take his teaching exams, and the two women realize it is time to make some decisions as well.

"Assumpta, we always knew this might not be a permanent partnership, please don't beat yourself up over this! We knew I was going to get married, but we didn't know whether this business was going to build or flop. Now, it's a success, and it never would have been without both of us working hard, but that doesn't mean it should be an anchor around either of our necks! I'll miss you if it turns out Peter gets a post outside the city, but now that the bar is a success, Joe can quit his job and help me, and I can hire help, too, if you and Peter move, and we can certainly still see each other any time we want for a visit." Bonnie takes Assumpta's hands in hers.

"Bonnie, you are an angel for being so understanding! And who knows, Peter may get a post in the city, and we won't have to move away after all. We may look for an apartment to live in, I don't think you or I want a crying baby upstairs all the day, every day, I won't be able to concentrate, and it will change the atmosphere here, too. But, if Peter and I do need to leave, it's a real comfort to know you won't be angry. We won't worry about finances until need be, but I'm glad you're going to be okay, either way."

Assumpta hugs her friend as they both stand, and the door opens to admit the first of the post-lunch patrons, there with clients to entertain. Bonnie goes to seat the group, and Assumpta goes behind the bar to begin preparing whatever order Bonnie takes. She thinks to herself how fast those patrons might desert their table if little Thea were screaming for her mum, and how Bonnie would cope if she had to take and prepare an order by herself as Assumpta ran to tend to the baby. Just then Bonnie brings the order, and, as Assumpta starts pouring glasses of wine, she remarks quietly to Bonnie, "Not exactly a group who'd understand a crying baby, are they?"

"No, probably not," Bonnie answers, lifting a tray of glasses and heading back for the table.

Late in the afternoon, Peter comes in, looking tired, and goes into the kitchen, where Assumpta is loading the dishwasher with wine glasses and cheese plates, as Bonnie is pouring wine out front.

"Well, how'd it go, Peter?" Assumpta straightens and turns to see Peter seat himself at the table and pour a mug of coffee, stirring in sugar.

"I haven't taken exams in a while, but I think I did well, anyway. They've said the results will be sent in a few days, and I'll have them in a week or so. I was talkin' with some of the other teachers, there to take exams, and, Assumpta, they're so *young*! They've just graduated, just starting their careers. They did say the schools often hire mid-year, as some teachers do retire, or quit, year round. There was one woman my age, she's re-taking exams after being out of teaching for a few years to have her family, an' she's hoping she hasn't forgotten everything she used to know, like I was! We had a laugh over that, when we broke for tea an' lunch."

"Did she think age was for or against you?" Assumpta pauses at the doorway, before heading back out front.

Peter turns in his chair. "She didn't say, but odds are it'll depend on the parish, some'll be lookin' for hot young graduates, some'll think experience counts more. A coupla fellas I ate lunch with thought their chances'd be better in Dublin, and mine'd be better outside the city, but who knows? I'll just be happy to pass the exams!" He stands, and Assumpta steps back to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I know you'll pass, Peter, don't worry! Would you go check on Emma and spend some time with her, before you come down for dinner?" Assumpta asks Peter for a favor before going back to work.

"Sure," he answers, returning the hug and kiss. "I'll be back to help out quick as I can, 'Ssumpta." He holds the door open, and Assumpta walks through under his arm, then he climbs the stairs as she goes back to the bar.

*****

February turns slowly towards March, and steady rains do nothing to keep Maggie from going, every other morning, to Avril's stables to ride Iblis, keeping both of them as strong and in shape as best they can be. Avril has an open stall, and Maggie is renting it so Iblis can stay close to the training track and warm and dry after his workouts. He is growing sleek, shedding out the heavier winter coat early due to the exercise, feed and blanketting. He spends some of his "down time" flirting with the mares in the stable, and Avril is hoping and praying that The Cat has a filly so she doesn't need to fear hearing that deep, chuckling whicker if a son of his grows up un-gelded in her stables!  She is considering asking Siobhan if she can borrow an elastrator to wave in the stallion's face as a warning to shut up as her patience stretches thin. Still, watching the little black horse fly around the track, Maggie clinging to his mane, bareback, she knows that the stallion will provide both the stamina and emotional stability The Cat is honestly lacking. She has seen the photos of his foals sired in America, and the few warmblood performance foals, especially, share the excellent angulation and
lengthened necks of their sire, as well as the more Arabian-type head and eye shape and size.

One day, Maggie calls Avril about the time she would usually arrive. "Avril?" Maggie has called the stable phone, knowing Avril will already be out in the barn.

"Speaking," Avril answers, a pitchfork gripped in her other gloved hand, having set down a wheelbarrow full of dirty straw.

"Avril, I wanted to let you know I won't run Iblis this morning, but I'd like to try your steeplechase course this afternoon, if you think it's dry enough for us to have a canter over it?" Maggie knows how bored she is on the flat course, so she knows that holds true for Iblis as well.

"Well, nobody's been out on it in months, but we can give it a try, if you don't mind me riding along?" Avril wants to see the little Arab's jumping ability first hand, given the chance.

"Sure, of course! I'd never ride the course without you along, for safety alone, let alone all the other reasons!" Maggie answers. "Say, you must be busy, I'll let you go, and see you this afternoon about two, okay?"

"Sure, Maggie, see you at two." Avril hangs up the phone, puts the pitchfork into the barrow, picks up the handles, and resumes pushing the load to it's destination.

That afternoon, Maggie's van pulls into the yard, and she gets out with a jumping saddle over one arm. Avril meets her and walks with her to the stallion's stall. As Maggie finishes grooming and saddling the black, a groom leads The Cat, already saddled, into the yard. Iblis whickers at the gray mare, who answers, tossing her head against her reins. Maggie slaps the stallion on the rump lightly.

"No, you old lecher, you are not going to breed that mare today, why would you need a saddle to do that! You have to prove yourself fit for her first, anyway, and that's not until this April, so get a grip on your libido for now, would ya?" The stallion turns his head and snorts, loudly. Maggie laughs, and swats the rump harder, then unlatches the stall door, pushing it open, and the stallion walks out, standing to wait while Maggie follows, re-latching the door, then moving to put a foot into the stirrup and mount. She turns to Avril, who is getting a leg up on the tall gray mare from the groom.

Both women, settled into the saddle, move the horses out of the yard towards the fields, posting as the animals move into a trot. Both the gray and the black are glad to be out of their stalls, feeling eager for the fresh air and open spaces. Reaching a long stretch, Avril lets The Cat break into a canter, and Maggie and the black follow suit, the shorter stallion taking more strides but keeping up with the longer-legged Thoroughbred mare. Soon, Maggie spots some fences, and Iblis speeds up slightly, moving slightly in front of the gray, and Maggie points at a brush jump. Avril shakes her head and pulls the mare into a large circle, dropping back into a trot, so Maggie does the same. Soon both horses are trotting side by side, and Avril tells Maggie, "Let's trot the course first, so we know the footing is safe, then we can do it at speed, okay?"

"Great, Avril, lead on, I'll follow!" Maggie replies, and off they go.

As they come to the end of the course, Avril asks, "Well, what do you think?"

"Let's go for it!" Maggie answers, and heads back to the beginning, letting the stallion pick up the canter again.

Avril holds The Cat back a bit, so she can watch the stallion jump, and, as Iblis starts the course, she is shocked to see that the stallion appears to clear the heights with more to spare than most of the Thoroughbreds she has put over them. She realizes his jumping style is not the longer, flatter Thoroughbred style, but that he moves in closer to each jump, launching upwards in a tighter arc. He is nimbler over any combination jump, having at least one more stride inside any of them than the taller horses she designed the course for. As Maggie finishes, she circles the stallion in a wide circle at the canter as Avril, two jumps behind, also completes the course, then turns to move alongside the mare, both horses slowing into the trot again as they turn back towards the stables, the mare guided by Avril's light touch on the reins, the stallion by Maggie's slight leg pressure.

"Well, how'd we do, coach?" Maggie asks, as they trot along.

"Maggie, I was sure you'd be dropping bars or passing every jump over four and a half feet, but he cleared every one you put him at with space to spare, better than many horses I've had owners paying me to train for steeplechase racing. He's nowhere near as fast, but he's an incredibly handy hunter, and he'd get a rider out of alot of tight spots other horses would founder in. The Cat's a competent jumper, but she'd spook and unload a rider who didn't keep a firm hand on her, and probably even dump me if we were in a real hunt where a grouse was flushed, or a rabbit or hare ran under her. That little stallion of yours is so steady I think a child could fox hunt on him, and never drop a stirrup if they were a competent rider. Did you hunt on him, at home?" Avril notes the stallion is not even damp, while The Cat, fighting the bit and tossing her head to run again, is starting to lather.

"No, we didn't ride in any hunts, I didn't have the time, but we did jump recreationally, when he was younger. It's not so easy to haul our rumps over the jumps these days, is it, old man?" The stallion snorts again, and Maggie laughs.

"What?" Avril questions, half-playfully.

"He said, 'What you mean "we", white woman?' Yeah, I know, you do all the work, sorry!" Maggie laughs, and Avril chuckles, too, somewhat uncomfortably wondering if that wasn't exactly what the stallion said, after all!

When the pair gets back to the yard, they note that Vincent Sheehan's red Granada is parked next to Maggie's blue van. The black-clad priest is standing under the eaves of the barn, the hood of his raincoat thrown back.

"Hey, Vincent!" Avril waves as she greets the tall Australian.

"Hello, Avril, Maggie. Did you have a match race, takin' the pair out together?" He steps out to take The Cat's reins as Avril kicks out of her right stirrup, swings the leg over the mare's rump, then kicks out of the left stirrup and drops down beside the gray. Maggie dismounts as well, immediately loosening the girth and walking beside the black to his stall, the stallion having cooled quite well on the trot, then walk, back to the stables.

"No, Vincent, we went over the steeplechase course today, and I wanted to make sure the footing was adequate before Maggie jumped Iblis." Avril and Vincent begin walking the gray mare around the courtyard to cool her.

"How'd he do?" Vincent watches Avril's face attentively.

"He was brilliant, cleared even the tallest jumps with inches to spare. Suprised me, that's for sure!" Avril watches the mare, concentrating on her and not noticing the priest noticing her.

Maggie, from the stallion's stall, sees the interaction between the pair, and files the information away, fearing she is seeing the beginning of an emotional crash for one or the other. She returns to rubbing the stallion down, wondering if she ought to bathe him. He snakes his long neck around, and nips her rear end in response. "Ouch!" Maggie hisses quietly, "all right, no bath, I guess you didn't sweat very much, after all."

*****

March rolls in, and almost without anyone noticing it, St. Patrick's Day is imminent. Maggie gets a room ready for Dermot Malone, as he has reserved one, for his last visit with Kathleen before their wedding in June. They plan a trip to Dublin for the big festivities, but Dermot will be in Ballykissangel for a couple of days at either end of the week.

The rain continues to fall, but the temperatures are certainly warmer, and Iblis is actively courting The Cat. Siobhan and Assumpta are both now visibly expecting, and the residents of Ballykissangel are *almost* used to seeing their former priest and former publican make short visits to their old home.

Peter has received nicely qualifying scores on his exams, and has actually been on a few interviews. In only one of them is the subject of his former employment discussed in a way that makes him feel it might have been a barrier to his prospects, and that position was one that was so far from Dublin it would have meant a move and being cut off from all their friends both in the city and in BallyK. He is relieved when he is not among the finalists for the job.

Kathleen and Dermot try on their wedding rings, and both agree they are beautiful pieces, and thank Maggie for the making of them, before the short vacation in Dublin. Not wishing to be closed even that short a time, Kathleen has enlisted Niamh to run the shop, and rumors soon start that Niamh has bought the shop, following in her father's footprints as village entrepreneur.

Over the holiday weekend, Peter and Assumpta come down to BallyK, and Assumpta finds herself visiting Niamh at the Hendley's front counter while she waits on customers. Brian is napping in a carrier behind her, while Sean is staying with Kieran at the farm.

"Well, Niamh, I must say, I never figured you for a shopkeeper!" Assumpta seats herself on a stool next to the counter.

"Well, the hours would be better than yours, but when that one (nodding at Brian) starts crawling and walking, I can't imagine how I'd run this place!" Niamh looks up at the sound of the door bell ringing, and is soon ringing up and making change for someone's purchase.

"No, I don't know how you managed Kieran, in the pub, either. I guess I'd better ask you alot more questions, as I'll soon be doing exactly the same thing, either in Dublin or elsewhere!" Assumpta shakes her head. Just then Siobhan walks in, and soon the three women are looking at the latest ultrasound scans, comparing symptoms and discussing remedies they've tried, heard of, or read about.

"Where are Brendan and Aisling, Siobhan?" Assumpta asks the veterinarian as the pair walk towards the pub, having bid Niamh goodbye to share glasses of orange juice at Fitzgerald's.

"Up at Avril's, Aisling's learning to ride," the vet answers.

"Does Avril have a pony?" Assumpta asks.

"No, Maggie is letting Avril use Iblis, he's small enough, and calm enough, both, for all he's a stallion."

The two enter the pub, where Orla and Maggie are serving lunches, and Assumpta soon finds herself in the kitchen, lending a hand. Maggie insists Assumpta sit, but lets her make sandwiches and such. Peter, Brendan, and Aisling soon come back from the short riding lesson, and Maggie makes Assumpta quit helping so she can relax with Peter and have some lunch herself. After the crowd thins, the friends sit down in the kitchen to talk.

"So, Peter, you've been going on interviews, Assumpta tells me?" Maggie asks.

"Yeah, though nothing's panned out so far. Still, I know something will, and, I hope, in the city, since we're looking for an apartment to move to, before the baby's born." Peter takes Assumpta's hand and squeezes gently. Just then the phone rings, and Maggie gets up to answer it.

"Yes, he's here, I'll hand him the phone." Maggie stretches the cord, and beckons to Peter, who stands and takes the reciever.

"Yeah, Bonnie, thanks for signing for that, who's it from? WHAT? Yeah, open it, read it to me!" Peter's voice is excited, and he waves a hand, beckoning Assumpta to join him, and holding the reciever out a bit for her to listen as well. After a moment, Assumpta squeals and hugs Peter, who finishes listening a moment longer, then says, "Thank you, Bonnie, thanks very much! Yes, absolutely, we'll make the arrangements right away, and you are most definitely invited! Thanks, yeah, we'll be back before evening, see you then!" Peter hangs up the phone, turns to the people sitting around the table in the kitchen, and, hugging Assumpta with one arm, makes an announcement.

"Well, it seems that even Rome can expedite paperwork for the right reason. As of this date, I am officially released from my vows of service, and no longer a practicing Roman Catholic priest." Peter turns, and drops to one knee, taking Assumpta's hands in his.

"Assumpta, will you marry me?" His eyes are shining with unshed tears.

"Yes, you ninny, I already have, now stand up and kiss me!" She pulls on his hands, and he stands, then, with serious passion, kisses her thoroughly. As he lifts his head, he sees all his friends standing, hands out to pat a shoulder, arms ready to hug, and the pair are soon enveloped in embrace after happy embrace. Eventually everyone sits down again, and they start discussing plans for a wedding that Peter and Assumpta have waited for for what seemed, at times, like an eternity.

Maggie soon slips out into the front of the pub again, and goes back to waiting on customers. James sees her go, and excuses himself to join her.

"Mags, you okay?" He sees some strain in her face.

She nods, and replies only, "Later," going to pull a pint for a visitor just settling in front of the bar.

"Okay, hon."

As the afternoon light breaks briefly through the clouds and shines in the front windows, he notices a strange thing, it looks for a moment as if it is shining right through Maggie, as if she were not there, but before he can move to see if it is a trick of funny angles, or his eyes being fooled some other way, Peter and Assumpta come out front.

"Heading back to Dublin?" Maggie moves to hug her younger cousin on her way to the door.

"Yeah, it'll be busy, with the tourists in town. Bonnie and I are interviewing for help, too, starting this week. I'll call when I get a minute, and we can talk, I have a couple of things I want to ask, okay?" Assumpta holds on to Maggie's hands briefly.

"Good, yeah, there are a few things we need to discuss, but now's not the time." The two hug again, briefly, and then Maggie takes Peter's hand in a strong grip, and says, "Take good care of her, now!"

"Always!" Peter answers, and Maggie follows them to the front door, stepping out to wave goodbye. As she steps back inside, O'Connor sees the odd phenomenon again, more strikingly, as Maggie literally disappears in the sunlight streaming in the door. Then, she turns, closing the door, and he shakes his head, muttering something about having his eyes checked.

Orla comes up front, as Siobhan, Brendan and Aisling come out to say goodbye as well, and soon the pub is back to just the customers and the publicans, two parts of the time-honored dance the old walls have seen for decades.  The sun settles into the western horizon, again a few minutes later than the day before, as spring slowly makes its move into Wicklow and the town of Ballykissangel.