Siobhan Limerick: No plastic surgery

Standing in the parlor, looking across the room, she looked into Mother Limerick's 81 year old face, odd that it had so few wrinkles. Perhaps that was because she was lying there, very peaceful, very still, very quiet. Annie Kate still had marvelous cheekbones, a high-bridged nose with a slight upturn at the bottom, a small mouth even now, and a pointed chin. Why, at 52 years, Siobhan had almost as many wrinkles as Annie Kate, nearly 30 years older. Of course, her mother-in-law could look younger. She didn't have the responsibility of raising two young children and managing a large Philadelphia house on her shoulders like Siobhan did. And she'd been almost 60 when her husband died, not 38 like Siobhan had been. Once her hair had turned white after Papa Limerick had died, she started dying it bright red. Said an old lady had a right to at least some enjoyment since she no longer had a man to keep her warm nights. How long ago had that been? 20 years? Oh, right -- 22 years ago, just weeks before Agnes had been born.

She wondered if Agnes would be here. Be here with her new husband and new baby. They'd sent a telegram from somewhere in upstate New York back in August after Grace had been born. Her new granddaughter, Grace -- Siobhan hadn't even seen her yet. She wondered what she looked like, who she looked like. Was there any of the Irish in her? She'd called Agnes's mother-in-law yesterday, and Victoria Balmoral had told her, they were still in New York and she'd send a telegram. Why would they still be in New York, living in a country farmhouse with a newborn baby? They needed to get back to Philadelphia. But she didn't know why, because Collin would have nothing to do with them. Her brother would never forgive Agnes for marrying that man.

Collin stood by Annie Kate, talking with Lucy Limerick in a low voice. Why was it, when people died, everyone whispered? This was supposed to be a wake, not a morose funeral. Annie Kate always lived for the excitement of the day. Siobhan had to give her mother-in-law that -- but looking over at the woman lying in the coffin by the fireplace, she couldn't really feel any affection. They'd had so many differences over the years, really starting more than a dozen years ago when she'd moved in, supposedly to help raise the children after Siobhan's husband died. But she'd ended up being just as much work for Siobhan as Agnes and Patrick had been. And now she was gone. Why couldn't Siobhan bring herself to shed a tear for her?