Author's Note: We are coming to the end of Oliver and Shane's glorious 'babymoon.' I hope you've enjoyed trekking through Ireland with them. Oliver's Big Surprise has been the most involved story I've written for SSD, with hours of research and many serendipitous discoveries along the way (one that I will share with you at the end of this chapter). It's been fun, and I thank you all for your support, encouragement, and kind reviews.
As always, all thanks and credit go to Martha Williamson for creating these beautiful characters and to Eric and Kristin for the care they take in bringing them to life for those of us who love Signed, Sealed, Delivered.
Chapter 11
"Oliver! It's time to get up!" Shane wiggled her mascara wand gently from side to side, slowly moving it up the length of her almost translucent eyelashes. She added a second coat, ensuring they were evenly covered. A puff of powder and a swipe of pale pink lipstick finished off her effortless look. Her freckles danced across the bridge of her nose like they did during summer days in Virginia when she left the house in the morning and played outside all day with friends, returning home only at dinnertime.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, she grunted as she fought with her black leggings. She stood and sucked in her stomach as tightly as she could, but it was only after several attempts and a few more groans that she finally managed to pull them up. "Whew." She huffed, the brief battle raising her heart rate to aerobics class level. She gave in as her stomach returned to its expanded size and realized that, even with an elastic waistband, the pinch around her more-than-thickened waistline meant the time had come for her to shop for maternity clothes. She grabbed the slightly oversized sweater she bought herself in Avoca and pulled it over her head. The sweater, purposely oversized, ensured that she would be able to wear it all winter. The rich steel blue color made the vibrant hue of her blue eyes shine even brighter. She traced her fingers over the woven design running down the middle of the sweater. According to their tour guide at the Mill, the pattern symbolized Ireland's seafaring culture, so she thought, what else could be more appropriate for a day at the coast?
She examined herself in the mirror. Pivoting, she lifted her sweater to get a better view. The curve started just below her ribs and had definitely become more pronounced. There was no denying now that she was pregnant. She moved her hand slowly down her stomach. It was firm under her touch, and she massaged it gently, imagining the tiny life floating inside. She froze her movements, her heart racing as she felt an almost imperceptible flutter. Could this be it? Is this what the book described? Was their baby boy finally exploring his temporary home? Her breath caught in a mixture of awe and wonder as she splayed her hands over her rounded belly, willing herself to feel it again.
In the bedroom, she watched the now familiar eyelid twitches that signaled her husband was coming out of his sleep. "Oliver," she whispered, loudly enough to speed his rousing.
"I heard you. I'm getting up." He stretched his arms and clasped his hands behind his head, an appreciative smile wreathing his face as his eyes flickered open and met Shane's.
She was mimicking Oliver's trademark bounce, her body radiating excitement. She waited, somewhat impatiently, as he came to full awareness. "Oliver, you aren't the only one doing some stretching this morning."
Deep creases etched into Oliver's forehead, and his eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Shane pushed Oliver over and crawled in next to him, raising her sweater and pulling her leggings down just enough to expose her bump.
Leaning over his wife, a sultry smile spread across Oliver's face. "Hmmm, I thought you wanted to leave early, but I'm more than happy to…delay for a while."
"Oliver, stop." She spoke the words against his lips as they covered hers. She took his hand and kissed his palm before laying it on her belly.
He rested his hand where she placed it. She delighted in watching Oliver's eyes grow wide as the movement she'd felt returned. It mirrored the look he'd given her when she first told him they were going to be a family of three.
"Is that him?"
Shane laughed. "Did you feel it?"
"Oh, my goodness! How long has he been doing this?"
"I finally felt it this morning for the first time." Shane held her hand over Oliver's. "Isn't it amazing?"
They lay together in peaceful silence as the minutes ticked on, the quiet punctuated only by Shane's occasional giggle as baby boy O'Toole stirred, making his presence known again and again, a gentle but unmistakable reminder of the life growing between them.
When the flutters finally subsided, Shane shifted, moving away from Oliver only to be pulled back to him.
Shane raised her hand to Oliver's cheek, her thumb stroking his course morning stubble. Her eyes tendered with affection as she got lost in the blueness of his. Her lips grazed softly against his, filled with a sweetness that was a hallmark of their love. Her lips, still on his, curved into a smile. "Oliver, we really need to get going now." She breathed the words against his lips.
"Are you sure? The Cliffs of Moher will still be there if we arrive, say, twenty minutes later?"
"Listen to you, Oliver O'Toole." She gave him a gentle nudge. "I want to get there early before the crowds." Her eyes darkened as she whispered in his ear. "Besides, I would hate for us to be confined to twenty minutes." She gave him a playful wink before shifting herself to sit on the edge of the bed.
As she reached over to pick up the boots she'd dropped on the floor earlier, frustration kicked in, and she huffed. "Ugh! I need longer arms."
Oliver popped up. "What's wrong, my love."
"I can't reach my boots." Irritation hardened her voice. "I'm already struggling to bend over. What am I going to be like in a few months?"
Oliver moved quickly and proceeded to help Shane put on her socks and walking boots, lacing and tying them for her.
"Thank you, Oliver. I don't know what I would do without you."
"Well, thankfully, you will never have to find out." He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of Shane's head. "Why don't you order some breakfast while I get ready."
The drive through the quaint countryside of County Clare took them on narrow roads flanked by low stone walls, weaving through fields that were still lush and green, even in late October. Cows and sheep, lazily grazing to their hearts' content, dotted the rolling landscape. It was similar to their drives through County Wicklow, though the charming villages they'd come to enjoy were fewer and farther between.
With a quick look to his left, Oliver asked. "Penny for your thoughts, my love?"
"Is that all they're worth?" She teased. "I was just thinking that this is our last adventure." Her hand rested on Oliver's thigh. "It really has been a wonderful trip."
"I daresay we have many more adventures ahead of us." His hand covered hers, his thumb caressing her smooth skin, its warmth a comfort to him. A shiver ran up his spine as it often did in an instance such as this, where they shared the same space, the same air, and where his cologne and her perfume mingled to create a scent that was uniquely theirs. "It's just that our next adventures will include diapers, bottles, and middle-of-the-night feedings."
"I have this feeling that we're going to get home, and before you know it, this little guy will be making his arrival." She squeezed his hand. "There's just so much to do between the kitchen renovations, getting the baby's room together, and we're heading into the busiest time of the year at work."
Oliver listened quietly, remaining calm and composed, in sharp contrast to Shane, whose voice grew sharper and edged with frustration. The words tripped over each other as they tumbled from her mouth, her thoughts chaotic. "Shane, let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves. Why don't we take things one day at a time?"
A heavy exhale escaped her lips. "I know you're right, Oliver. But my brain kicks into overdrive, and I feel like I'm already two steps behind."
Oliver brought her hand to his lips. "But, my love, you aren't doing this alone. I am with you every step of the way."
"I know, Oliver."
Oliver gripped the supple leather of the steering wheel a bit tighter as the occasional view of the rugged coastline came into view. The Cliffs of Moher, Ireland's most iconic and popular tourist attraction, were drawing close, and as they continued the drive, the roads opened up until there before them, the towering cliffs became visible.
A crisp chill hit them as soon as they stepped out of the car. A salty tang hung in the air. Oliver took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and a hint of moss filling his nose. He opened Shane's car door and extended his hand to her. Her shoulders shook as she exited the car. "Shane, will you be warm enough?"
"I'll be fine, Oliver. I tossed an extra jacket in the back seat."
Oliver grabbed it and helped her into it. He waited as she made several attempts to zip it up before finally giving up.
"It's no use, Oliver. It's not going up."
Oliver removed his jacket and gave it to Shane. "Here, Shane, wear mine."
"I can't do that. You'll freeze."
"Better for me to be a little chilly than for you to catch a cold." He wove his hand into hers, giving it a quick squeeze as his lips curled and he winked. "Besides, I can always warm up later."
The visitor center was nestled into the countryside, barely visible from the parking lot had it not been for the windows. Interactive displays provided insight into the geology, wildlife, and history of the Cliffs.
They spent several minutes meandering through the exhibit area, absorbing details that stirred their excitement to get outside and witness the natural beauty and spectacular views.
Oliver and Shane headed outside, the crisp air greeting them as they began down one of the winding trails that ran along the edge of the majestic cliffs. They stood together, fingers woven together, taking in the almost surreal scene.
"It looks like a painting, doesn't it, Oliver?"
Oliver nodded his agreement. "It really does. It is certainly a testament to the power of our God to create such a wonder."
The vast cliffs stretched endlessly before them, rising over 700 feet from the deep blue Atlantic Ocean below. Waves crashed against the rocks below, sending a mist of water into the air. The deep, thunderous sound came and went with a hiss in a relentless rhythm. The call of seabirds echoed through the air, blending with the whistle of the wind, creating a symphony of nature's sounds.
Sunlight bathed the rugged coastline, casting a golden glow and painting the surroundings in hues of amber and orange. A light mist that lingered over the cliffs was beginning to dissipate, revealing a panoramic view overwhelmed by the vastness of the ocean beyond.
It was still early, and the area wasn't crowded with visitors yet. Oliver and Shane strolled toward O'Brien's Tower. The viewing tower sat on the highest point of the coastline. The circular building, constructed out of limestone almost two hundred years before, had been weathered by wind and sea air, giving it a patina that helped it blend into the natural landscape. Its location provided visitors with a more accessible viewpoint of the dramatic cliffs. Oliver trailed Shane as they climbed the narrow circular staircase up the two flights.
They were rewarded for their efforts with a panoramic view of the cliffs and the ocean. As the fog continued to lift, the Aran Islands could be seen in the distance from their perch high above.
Shane pulled out her phone. "Oliver, turn around." They stood, arm in arm, leaning against the tower's stone wall, with the expanse of the deep blue Atlantic behind them. Shane snapped several pictures before checking to see how they looked. "Oliver, don't look so serious. We're supposed to be having fun." She lifted the camera again and took a new set of photos. Once she was satisfied, she put the phone back in her pocket.
Oliver stood behind her as she looked over the side of the tower. He encircled her with his arms, drawing her close, and leaned down to brush his lips against the delicate curve of her neck, savoring the warmth of her skin and the sweet scent that lingered in the air between them. "Mmmmm, you smell good." Shane turned to face him, her arms wrapping around his waist. The movement brought them closer, the spark of their connection intensifying as she nestled into him.
They were alone on the observation deck, and Oliver took full advantage of their isolation to tighten his hold on Shane. He slowly closed the distance between them until their lips met. Shane threaded her fingers through his hair, gently but insistently pulling him closer. The tender yet urgent press of her lips against his sent a surge of sensation through him. They were lost in each other, the steady crashing of waves and songs of seabirds growing faint as nothing else could exist in their shared space. The sound of footsteps and voices pierced the bubble they'd created, jarring them back to reality and causing Oliver to pull back abruptly.
Shane laughed and grabbed his arms as he stumbled back. "Are you okay, Oliver?"
He chuckled. "I believe I got swept up in the moment."
Shane slowly ran a finger down Oliver's arm, her gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. "I am happy to hold the broom, Mr. O'Toole."
Oliver held her gaze as his lip curled up to one side. "Sweep away, my love."
Shane smirked. "You've become rather bold during this trip, Oliver. All this kissing me in public places? It's very unlike you."
"Well, maybe I've come to realize that it's more important to seize the moment than get mired in propriety."
They left the tower and began their walk back to the visitor center. Shane stopped mid-step and clutched Oliver's arm. "Oliver, look!" She spoke in hushed tones. "Don't move."
Oliver surveyed the landscape and finally saw what had caught Shane's attention. A couple, maybe in their mid-twenties, stood precariously close to the edge of the cliff, just a few steps from the dramatic drop to the ocean. He continued scanning the area and saw a small crowd of people standing off in the distance, watching the couple as intently as Shane was.
"Oliver, watch." She grasped his hand, pulling him to her side.
His heart warmed as the man quickly dropped down on one knee, reminding him of the first and second times he'd performed the same gesture in front of Shane. He wondered if this young man was experiencing the same nervous anticipation he had that first time, wondering if the woman standing in front of him, the love of his life, the person he had prayed and asked God to send him, would, in fact, say yes.
A wave of relief surged through Oliver as he watched the woman cover her mouth with her hand. He could just make out her stunned expression. Although the moment was unfolding in a very public setting, the inability to hear their conversation provided the couple with the privacy that such a special moment deserved. The young lady extended her left hand, and even from their distance, Oliver could see a ring being slid onto her finger. The groom-to-be stood up and pulled his now bride-to-be into his arms, spinning her around.
Cheers and high-fives erupted from the crowd of people standing off in the distance. They rushed to the couple, everyone hugging and kissing each other.
Tears streamed unchecked down Shane's cheeks, glistening in the morning light. Oliver cradled her face in his hand and, in a swift, soothing motion, brushed his thumb across her damp skin, delicately sweeping away her tears.
"That was so romantic, wasn't it Oliver?"
"I suppose so. Not being privy to what he said, I can only assume - based on the excited reaction he received - that he offered a compelling proposal she could not resist."
Shane tightened her hold on his hand, her spontaneous laughter filling the air around them as they started walking again. "Sometimes, Oliver, you can be so...practical."
A slow smile lifted his lips. The phrase resonated with him, evoking the memory of a past conversation with Shane. He recalled the smile that had crossed her face when she used those exact words during another conversation.
"Practical, but romantic? Mrs. O'Toole?"
"Oh, definitely romantic, Mr. O'Toole."
The drive back to Dromoland Castle was quiet, the only sound being Shane's gentle, rhythmic breathing as she slept soundly in the passenger seat. She sat, bathed in sunlight that made the freckles on her nose stand out on her relaxed, peaceful face. Whisps of blonde hair fell across her cheek, and Oliver found himself, once again, having to resist the temptation to reach out and push them back.
The stillness gave him time to reflect on the last ten days. It had been everything he'd hoped it would be. His primary intention had been for him and Shane to enjoy quality, relaxed time together. His cheeks burned. Yes, they had certainly done that. They had also created lasting memories of a country from where both of their ancestors harkened. While they each had chosen areas they wanted to explore, there was a carefree sense of freedom that surrounded their time together. Most of their days unfolded naturally, at their own pace. It was refreshing to come and go as they pleased with no other demands on their time from others. Theirs was the most profound connection he had ever known, woven together from years of shared experiences, laughter, and quiet moments. And that connection had only grown stronger during this time away.
"Hmmm." Shane stirred, reaching over and gliding her hand over Oliver's arm. "Where are we, darling?"
"We are about twenty minutes from Ennis. I thought we could stop there for lunch."
"Lunch sounds wonderful. Little man is getting hungry." Shane rested her hands on her tummy.
Oliver smiled at his wife's reference to their baby. "Shane, do you think it's too early to start discussing a proper name for 'little man,' as you call him."
Shane chuckled. "Given how long you tend to contemplate things? No, Oliver, I don't think it's too soon to discuss it."
"Do you have any names in mind?" He posed.
"Maybe. Do you want him to be a junior?"
Oliver scoffed. "No. I have no wish for our son to carry my name. Besides, I don't care for the nickname, Ollie, and I fear he would end up with that moniker if only to distinguish between the two of us." He glanced and saw her tight lips loosen into a small smile. "Something tells me you've had a list going since we found out it was a boy."
Shane pulled out her phone and tapped on her lists. "Actually, even before that. I have two lists. One for boy names and one for girl names."
"Haha. I should have known. What are your girl's names?"
"I didn't get very far. Caroline, Elizabeth, and…Louise."
"Louise? Louise was my grandmother's name."
"I know. I wasn't sure at first, but it started to grow on me. Besides, you did say she was the finest woman you ever knew."
"Until you." He gave his wife a loving glance, remembering the words of his proposal. It was true. His grandmother represented everything good and kind in the world. Even as colleagues, he recognized that Shane embodied those same qualities that made his grandmother such an extraordinary influence in his life. "We can save it for next time," he said, lifting his lips in a smirk.
Shane jerked her head to him. "Next time?"
Oliver laughed. "If there's a next time."
"Oliver, I think we're lucky." She stopped herself. "Sorry, we are blessed to be having this one. Why don't we get this little guy here before we think about another."
"Fair enough. And what boy's names are on your list?"
"Hmmm, Colton, Ryder, Jace, Jett, Dalton." The names rolled off her tongue a little too quickly for Oliver's liking.
His face twisted, his grimace growing with every name Shane spoke. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out were anxious breaths. He was torn between utter disdain for the modern, trendy names she'd chosen and not wanting to hurt her feelings. Her hand rested warmly on his neck, and he turned to see the mischievous glint in her eyes. Her thumb softly traced along the nape, each delicate caress igniting their shared intimacy. She leaned toward him. "I'm kidding, Oliver."
Now, it was Oliver who exhaled with relief. "That is a relief. I was debating how I could be diplomatic regarding your choices."
Shane teased him with her smile and shrugged. "I agree that naming him Oliver may not be the best idea, but I do like the idea of giving him a family name."
"Hmmm, well, my grandfather's name was Chester Stanley."
"Veto." She responded abruptly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Darling, I like the idea of a family name, but I am not giving birth to an eighty-year-old man."
"What about my father's name, Joseph Henry."
Shane's lips pursed. "Joseph would lead us to the same situation as if we named him Oliver." Tilting her head, she posed." What about Henry?"
Oliver gave a brief nod. "I have always liked the name Henry. That's certainly one for consideration. What about a middle name?"
"Ahem. I thought we might consider Sean for his middle name."
Oliver reached for and clasped Shane's hand firmly in his, their fingers intertwining as a rush of warmth spread between them. "I think that is a wonderful idea. I like the idea of naming him after both of his grandfathers."
Shane squeezed his hand. "I do, too, Oliver." She smiled. "Henry Sean O'Toole. That's a good name for the next generation of the POstables."
Author's postscript: This is the God wink I received for this chapter. Partway through writing this story, a friend of mine posted some pictures on Facebook of her son proposing to his girlfriend at the Cliffs of Moher. As soon as I saw that, I knew it was something I would include in this story.