Page 20 of An Irish Summer

Dear Ms. Gold,

We thank you for your application and your interest in the concierge position at Lakeland Inn. We regret to inform you, however—

Damn it. I didn’t even need to read beyond the second line to know what the rest of the email said. Hell, I didn’t even need

to read beyond the first. We’ve filled the role, a more qualified candidate, an internal transfer, please keep us in mind in the future , etc. etc.

I leaned across the desk and scratched this job from my list of applications, resisting the urge to rip the entire thing to

shreds. I tried to remind myself I still had plenty of time, but it didn’t stop the heat from pricking the back of my eyes.

Since having graduated from college, I’d tried to do everything right.

I’d gotten a good job, moved out of my parents’ house, worked hard, and made my bosses proud.

And where had it gotten me? Not a single mistake along the way, and for what?

What was the point of working so hard, or planning my future, if it didn’t even matter in the end?

“Are you Chelsea?”

I looked up from the reception desk at a smiling couple, the ageless kind that looked like they could be in their early twenties

or their late forties depending on the lighting.

“I am,” I said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

I waited while they exchanged small smiles, hoping they weren’t going to ask for something that required more emotional stamina

than I had this morning.

“You’re the event planner here, right?” one of the men asked, clasping his hands together like he was praying I’d say yes.

“I mean, I’m not sure if I... maybe?” I laughed. “It isn’t in my job title, but I have planned a few events since I’ve

gotten here. Have you heard of our weekly movie night?” I hoped to persuade them with an event that already existed, rather

than have them ask me to plan something entirely new.

“We do love a proper film night,” the other man said, clearly enticed by the idea. “What d’you think, Grant? We could stay

in, cozy up with a film and a few drinks?”

“We were hoping you could arrange a cooking class for us,” Grant said to me, patting his partner’s hand. “You see, Liam here

is a terrible cook—”

“Terrible is a strong word.”

“—and we’re moving in together after we get back from this holiday, and I can’t be the only one feeding this family.”

“It’s a family of two,” Liam said. “It’s not that hard.”

“Which is why you’ll learn to do it.”

They nudged each other, giggling in a way that suggested they forgot I was sitting right there.

“Anyway,” Grant continued, remembering my presence. “Is that something you might be able to do?”

Their smiles were so contagious it would have been impossible to say no.

“Of course,” I said, turning to my computer and slipping into customer service mode. “Let me have a look.”

“And between you and me,” Grant said, leaning across the desk and dropping his voice to a whisper, “it doesn’t have to be

an Irish cooking class. I think Irish food is terrible, if I’m honest.”

“And if I’m also honest,” I said, matching his whisper, “I totally agree. Just don’t let anyone around here hear you say that

or they’ll be shoving cabbage down our throats until you leave.”

“Please,” Grant said. “Don’t even say the word. It’s been a day in Ireland and I already never want to think about cabbage

again.”

“I quite like cabbage,” Liam said, crossing his arms.

“You also like American football and the Queen, so I’m not sure your opinions can be trusted,” Grant said with a laugh.

“Do you want to keep cooking yourself dinner or not?” Liam said, to which Grant raised his palms and turned back to me at

my computer.

“Well, what is something you can agree on?” I asked. “Is there a specific cuisine you both like?”

“What about Italian?” Liam said. “That way maybe someday I can learn to make that pasta dish from Giacomo’s that you like?”

“Now we’re talking,” Grant said, kissing Liam on the temple. “Though I can’t imagine that’ll be something easy to find in

Galway, will it?”

“In fact,” I said, bells and whistles and strobe lights flashing around in my brain, “I know just the chef.”

I wasn’t sure Flo would go for it, especially given how few days off we had. But I hoped that once she met Grant and Liam,

she would like them enough to make it work.

“How do you feel about coming back here for a drink later?” I asked the couple. “Our chef gets off after dinner, and I’d love

to introduce you and set something up. I should warn you, she didn’t go to culinary school but she grew up in Italy in a house

with all her relatives, so if you’re looking for traditional Italian—”

“That’s perfect,” Grant said. “Even better that way.”

“Agreed,” Liam said.

Once they left I made my way to the kitchen, where Flo was preparing grab-and-go-style sandwiches for lunch even though the

hostel was mostly empty during the day.

“Florence, darling,” I said, approaching the bench with caution as she had a giant knife in her hand.

“Chelsea, if you’ve come to ask me to blow-dry your massive head of hair again, the answer is no. You know how to do it, and

my hands are already sore from all the prep work today.”

I laughed, remembering the day last week I’d been too lazy and asked her to help. She’d had a pixie cut for years, and the

whole scene was apparently traumatizing.

“I’ve learned my lesson,” I said. “Besides, this favor is a better one, anyway.”

“I’m listening.”

I gave her the pitch, leaving out the part that I secretly hoped she might agree to do it more regularly. I had no intention

of doing any extra work today, but once the ball got rolling it was hard to stop myself.

She leaned her hip against the counter, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s in it for me?”

I knew this was coming. “Uh,” I said, “the sheer glory of helping a lovely couple have a long and happy life together in their

new home?”

“And it’s just this once?”

“Sure,” I said, but it came out as more of a question.

“Chelsea!”

“Come on, Flo! Don’t you think it would be cool to share your talents with our guests?”

“I do share my talents with our guests,” she said, gesturing to the sandwiches.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “It wouldn’t be all the time. Maybe once or twice a month at most. I could even help you do

some prep stuff so you had more time for the class. I’m sure Lori would let you do it on the nights you were already working

if you had some extra hands in here.”

Volunteering myself for more kitchen duties wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but again, I wasn’t always sure what came over

me when I started planning events.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Flo said. “And this is the only class I’m doing outside of regularly scheduled working hours. I

mean it, Chels. But if you can get Lori on board for the others and you help me out in here, then you have yourself a deal.”

I threw my arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight hug. She uncrossed her arms to hug me back, and we laughed at ourselves.

“Thank you, Flo,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, swatting my legs with a dish towel. “Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

“ Si, signora. ”

I settled back into my place behind the desk and opened my email, firing yet another message to Lori about starting an event.

And, in true Lori fashion, she approved it almost instantly and with enthusiasm bordering on aggression. We didn’t see much

of her physically on the grounds at the Wanderer, but I had a sense she was never more than a minute from the action.

By the time Grant and Liam returned for drinks, I had already slotted more than a handful of regular classes into the summer

calendar and brainstormed a menu with Flo for their date night.

“How was your day out in the city?” I asked them as we pulled stools up to the bar. Fortunately, Collin wasn’t working tonight,

so I could focus on Grant and Liam.

“Brilliant,” Grant said, smiling even wider than he’d been that morning. “Galway is really something. Which I’m sure you know,

since you live here.”

“You must love getting out and exploring the city,” Liam said while Grant ordered the three of us gin and tonics.

“We’re trying to get her out there,” Flo said, kissing my cheek as she joined us. “It’s like pulling teeth sometimes, but

we’re working on it. I’m Flo.” She extended her hand, shaking with both Liam and Grant, respectively.

I had known I wasn’t getting out into the city enough, but I figured Collin would just keep dragging me out until I’d seen

the entire country if he had it his way. But now my body buzzed with a mix of guilt and apprehension, suddenly afraid of leaving

Ireland with no real stories to tell. I sipped my drink in an attempt to calm down.

“We can’t thank you enough for taking the time to teach us to cook,” Grant said. “Especially your traditional recipes.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Flo said.

“You say that now, but only because you haven’t seen this one in the kitchen yet,” Grant said through the corner of his mouth,

jerking his thumb toward Liam.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll change my mind about the whole thing,” Liam said. “You included.”

Grant pretended to zip his lips, and Liam swooped in for a quick kiss.

“So,” Flo said. “Tell me your story. I like to get to know the people I’m sharing my family recipes with.”

At once, Grant and Liam launched into their story, finishing each other’s sentences and leaving no detail uncovered. They

met in university, but they hadn’t started dating until they reconnected at a wedding in Scotland years later. Since then

they’ve seen more than fifty countries together, and they finally feel ready to share a home (which to them feels like the

biggest adventure of all).

I had my suspicions that Flo was a hopeless romantic, try as she might to deny it, and the way she devoured their story only

confirmed my belief. It really was beautiful, the way these two very different men found a common ground on the road and built

a brilliant life together.