Edwin’s family was known for one thing. They were famously known for their luck. His great-great grandfather started the streak. Tradition told that at a spring festival he saw an enchanting girl dancing around the maypole. She wore a chain of shamrocks fashioned into a crown and as she went around the pole it flew off, landing at his great-great grandfather’s feet. She hurried over to retrieve it as he bent to pick it up. When he looked up there she stood. The scene would have looked like a proposal and they both knew. Embarrassed he handed it back at which time she took his hand and led him to join her in the revelry.

They would eventually marry, raise a family and become well respected and prominent members of the community. Edwin’s great-great grandfather attributed it all to the shamrock. Every generation since that time seemed to be blessed beyond circumstance.

Edwin stood in front a full length mirror. Navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt, black shoes and tie. He felt overdressed. He fussed with his hair in an attempt to look a bit more spontaneous. His usual confidence escaped him and a nervousness he wasn’t accustomed to was just at the surface of his typically cool demeanor.

He looked at his watch. It was time. He gathered up his secret weapon and headed out the door.

The restaurant was packed. Was it chance or were more people in the loop than he realized? His relationship with Francine had been the talk of the town. There she sat, facing away, at a table in the center of the room. He’d encouraged the family dinner just for the occasion.

He crossed the room, sure-footed now, carrying shamrocks in bloom and everyone knew what was coming. He said her name and was on one knee before she’d turned around. He clasped her hand and asked if she’d make him the luckiest man in the world. Whispered laughter filled the room. They all thought he couldn’t be any luckier, but he knew better.