Page 17 of An Irish Summer

and heading back downstairs. They were both straightforward managing positions, without much room for creativity, but the

pay was decent and they were centrally located, so I definitely couldn’t complain.

When I got back into the lobby, I was surprised to see at least fifteen people sprawled in the seating area. There were a

few crushed beer cans between the beanbags, and the credits were just beginning to roll. And Collin was standing in the back,

exactly where I’d left him.

“You stayed?” I whispered, joining him against the wall.

“Got absorbed in the film,” he whispered back. “I’m a sucker for a young Meg Ryan. This had nothing to do with you.”

“I never said it did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

We eyed each other, only a few inches apart. I tore myself away to shut down the projector and thank everyone for coming,

reminding them to leave reviews if they were happy with the service at the Wanderer.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked it here,” Collin said as the last of the guests trickled out.

“Good thing you know better, then,” I smiled.

“How’d the applications go?”

“Well, thanks for asking. Hoping to hear back soon.” My voice faltered, and I couldn’t stop it.

“You sound stressed about it.”

“I am stressed about it.”

“Let me take your mind off it,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders and ushering me toward the door. “The pints aren’t going

to drink themselves.”

“Collin!” I protested.

“Your work is done, you’ve applied for boring jobs for your boring city life, now you can come out for the craic.”

“My city life is not boring.”

“Says you.”

“It’s sustainable,” I said, too busy with the verbal argument to also push back against his hands.

“And this isn’t?”

“Thank god we’re heading to the pub,” I said, laughing. “We’re gonna need a drink if we’re gonna have this conversation.”

“Aye,” he said. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.” I rolled my eyes and followed him into the pub, letting him order us two pints of whatever lager was on tap and silently promising myself I’d only stay for one.

“So you think this isn’t sustainable, do ya?” He turned to me and took a long sip, watching me do the same.

“It’s just, it’s different from a salaried position,” I said, trying to tread lightly. “And it’s not exactly comfortable apartment

living.”

“So, it’s just about a salary and flat for you, then? Having a nice doorman, giving half your paycheck to taxes?”

“It sounds worse when you put it that way,” I said. “It’s about security, I guess. Not having to worry about where I’m living

or where the money is coming from. I know that sounds privileged, but it’s the life I want for myself.”

“White picket fence and a husband too, yeah? One of those finance blokes who wear a suit to the office every day?”

“I mean, it isn’t the most important part of the equation, but if I happened to find a nice husband, I’d be happy with that.

And I wouldn’t care if he wore a suit to work.”

“But would you care if he wore work boots? Worked for an hourly wage?”

“Where is all this coming from?” I asked. “Look, Collin, this life just isn’t for me . I don’t mean to be knocking it for anyone else.”

“Just part of getting to know you,” he said, taking a few large gulps as if to avoid having to say anything else right away.

I followed suit, needing the buzz to gather myself. “This life isn’t all that bad, you know. We quite like it here, to be

fair.”

“And had I grown up with this, I might like it too,” I said. “But it’s so foreign to me. Too foreign. I’m not like you or

Flo or Lars or any of the seasonal staff who came and never left. I can’t adapt like that. That’s why I like to have a plan.”

“What if a better plan comes along?” he asked. “Would you even know?”

“I don’t think there is a better plan for me than the one I’ve had my whole life,” I said. “That’s really the only plan for

me.”

“Sure look, then.”

Because Collin was usually so chatty, it was painfully clear when he decided he had nothing else to say. And if he liked Ireland

and hostel life enough for the whole country, why did it matter if I liked it too?

We finished our drinks in silence just as Lars appeared between us, clapping us both on the shoulders with his large hands.

“Chelsea, glad you made it round.”

“I was actually just leaving,” I said.

“So soon?”

“I’ve already been here for one more beer than I told myself I’d have tonight, so I better get going before it snowballs.”

“Chelsea,” Collin said, getting to his feet at the same time I did. I meant to just hold up a hand signaling for him not to,

but he was so close that my fingertips touched his chest in a way that surprised us both.

“Enjoy your night,” I said.

“Fair play to you on film night, by the way,” Lars said before I could leave. “Collin texted me saying it was a hit.”

I looked at Collin, and we shared a small smile before I slipped out the door, just wide enough to take the edge off without

dissolving the tension completely. I took a deep breath as soon as I left the pub, trying to ease the inexplicable ache in

my chest. And as much as I hated to admit it, the Galway air worked its magic.