{"id":255228,"date":"2026-07-13T04:08:28","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T01:08:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/buried-in-shamrocks-lisa-q-mathews\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T04:08:28","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T01:08:28","slug":"buried-in-shamrocks-lisa-q-mathews","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/buried-in-shamrocks-lisa-q-mathews\/","title":{"rendered":"Buried In Shamrocks – Lisa Q Mathews"},"content":{"rendered":"
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After Ian. \u201cI went over there early, yeah,\u201d Liam said. \u201cTo meet with one of the sound guys.\u201d He nodded toward the newest member of Peat on the other sofa. \u201cJaymes was having a lie-in with a sore head. Ian never made it over, either. I couldn\u2019t tell you about Macker here.\u201d \u201cI was in my bed as well,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd I\u2019m still tired.\u201d She sniffed. \u201cAllergies.\u201d \u201cNoel represented for the Lads.\u201d Timmy shrugged. \u201cWe\u2019re old hands at this.<\/p>\n

Didn\u2019t need more than one person to check on things. Just give us a stage or a tent or a room, and we\u2019re off to the races. Marty\u2019s boy is a stickler for every detail, though. Haven\u2019t seen him since. Marty, where\u2019s Noel?\u201d \u201cNoel?\u201d Marty started awake, and I glimpsed the neatly wrapped white gauze bandage on his hand. Mom\u2019s signature handiwork. All of us Buckleys had been on the receiving end.<\/p>\n

Timmy leaned closer to Marty. \u201cYour son,\u201d he said, louder. \u201cWhere is the lad?\u201d \u201cNoel? Ah, he\u2019s off somewhere. Who knows?\u201d Marty said. \u201cI\u2019ll have a beer as well, Kate, since you\u2019re bringin\u2019 one to the young lady here.\u201d This time he was the one who got the evil eye from Macker. Apparently she didn\u2019t like the term \u201cyoung lady.\u201d Marty didn\u2019t seem to notice. But he hadn\u2019t been dozing this whole time.<\/p>\n

He had full awareness of Macker\u2019s drink order. Selective hearing, maybe. Just like the Chief. \u201cI\u2019ll get those beers right now,\u201d I said, jumping off the armchair. \u201cBe right back.\u201d I doubted I\u2019d get much more from this group about the morning\u2019s events anyway. Not as a group, anyway. Divide and conquer. Another of the Chief\u2019s specialties. \u201cDid you find your dog, now?\u201d Marty called, as I reached the doorway.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Rover\u2019s safely home, thanks.\u201d After you let him out of the gate, I wanted to add. \u201cHe\u2019s a sly one, that pup,\u201d Marty said. \u201cSure is,\u201d I agreed. But Marty was the real sly dog, in my book. And on my list for a private chat. After my ex. When I returned to the living room less than five minutes later, Leprechaun Lagers in hand for the guests who\u2019d requested them, I was surprised to find only Macker left.<\/p>\n

She was still in her place on the couch, frowning at her ragged nails. They were bitten down to the quick. \u201cWhere did everyone go?\u201d I handed Macker one of the lagers. \u201cJust leave Marty\u2019s there on the coffee table.\u201d She pointed in front of her. \u201cHe went off with the others. If he doesn\u2019t come back, I\u2019ll drink it. Or you can.\u201d \u201cThanks, I\u2019m good.\u201d I set down the beer and dropped into the armchair across from her. Macker would be my first guest interrogee.<\/p>\n

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My seven-year-old daughter Bliz, occasionally known as Mary Elizabeth, squeezed her eyes shut in concentration, rocking in her green jelly sandals as she repeated her singsong chant. \u201cDon\u2019t think that\u2019s going to work, Blizzie B.\u201d Maeve shaded her eyes and frowned from the driveway into the open Buckley family garage. Well, it used to be my parents\u2019 garage. The entire space was now even more stuffed to the rafters with boxes and bags and assorted junk.<\/p>\n

On either side of the rusty basketball hoop above the garage door, Irish and American flags drooped in the late-June, midday heat. At least it wasn\u2019t lashing rain like the last time we arrived here in Shamrock, Massachusetts. Not yet anyway. Gray thunderclouds were already starting to move across the robin\u2019s-egg blue sky. \u201cDon\u2019t discourage her, honey,\u201d I murmured to Maeve. \u201cShe\u2019s praying. Sort of.\u201d Maeve, my doppelganger with her slender build and shoulder-length auburn hair, gave me the fourteen-year-old eye roll behind Bliz\u2019s back and reached down to give her little sister a squeeze.<\/p>\n

\u201cSaint Anthony is really busy right now,\u201d she explained. \u201cHe has to help lots of other people find super important things. Like wedding rings and wills and actual missing persons. Not Barbies.\u201d Sparks instantly replaced the tears in Bliz\u2019s bright blue eyes. \u201cCiara is not a Barbie. Well, not anymore. She\u2019s my Irish dancer doll. Gram made special dresses for her and everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

I brushed away a long blond curl plastered to my younger daughter\u2019s cheek by humidity and tears. \u201cSweetie, we\u2019ll find Ciara soon, I promise.\u201d I gestured vaguely toward the garage. \u201cWhen we unpack all of this. But that may take a while.\u201d Little green lie number ten-thousand-and-one today. Who knew if we\u2019d ever completely unpack. The dinged and dented, cheapest-available moving van was still parked here in the driveway of the Buckley House, my parents\u2019 B&B.<\/p>\n

The vacancy sign, I noticed, leaned perilously close to the sidewalk. Had we somehow hit it with the van? I jogged over to straighten the sign. When it didn\u2019t budge, I pulled harder, and the whole thing came all the way out of the ground. Rotten wood from the recent rains, probably. And was that a bug? No, three bugs. Ugh. I decided against hauling the sign to the trash can next to the garage and stuck it back as best I could in the soggy lawn.<\/p>\n

The trash was already full anyway. I\u2019d mention the sign rot to my dad later. And I knew exactly what he\u2019d say: \u201cFetch my hammer there from the garage, will you, Kathleen?<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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