Page 40 of An Irish Summer

“We’re going to cheat a bit here,” she said, “because judging by the sound of the living room, we need to crack on.” When

I didn’t answer right away, she rested a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about Niamh. I’m sure Collin gave ya a warning, but

she’s been edgier than usual lately.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I said. “Really.”

“Nah, it’s a lot, I know. Our mam isn’t around much, as I’m sure you know, and it’s hit Niamh a bit harder than the rest of us, even as an adult.

” As she spoke, she produced a red canister from the cabinet and fished around the powder inside for a plastic scoop.

“Here,” she said, handing me the scoop and gesturing to the powder.

“Drop two scoops of this into that bowl there.”

I did as I was told, trying to figure out if there was a way to ask about their mother without seeming nosy. Fortunately,

Aileen didn’t need any prompting.

“She’s got distant relatives all over the country,” Aileen continued. “Our mam, I mean. Aunts, uncles, cousins. We’ve not

met most of them. And she does some odd jobs on the road, like. Sales and stuff. Just one of those mams who isn’t really keen

on being a mam all the time, that’s all. Been this way since we were weans. Collin and I got used to it, but I’m not sure

Naimh ever will. Here, add this jug of milk.”

“That must have been hard,” I said as I stirred the milk into the powder. I watched it turn into a pudding-like texture, thankful

to have a task to keep me occupied.

“I don’t blame Collin for leaving,” she said. “It was hard for him to stay here. He felt responsible for everyone, you know?

That’s a lot for a kid. So he left for Galway after he was done with school. And he comes home more often than we make it

seem. We’re just slagging him off. He’s a good lad.”

“He is,” I agreed, handing her the bowl.

“D’you fancy each other?” she whispered. “I know we’ve all been a bit nosy, but I can’t help myself.” She ran a finger around

the side of the bowl, tasting the custard.

“It’s complicated,” I whispered back, hoping he wouldn’t hear. “Honestly, the fancying is the easy part. It’s my impending

return to America making it a bit more difficult.”

“If you want my advice, which I doubt you do because you didn’t ask, it would be to focus on the easy part. Life is already so hard. If you have something easy, you should enjoy it.”

She was right, wasn’t she?

“Like this custard,” she said, handing me a spoon. “Taste. Two ingredients and just a bit of mixing.” I took a bite, letting

the sweetness settle on my tongue. “Deadly, isn’t it? And hardly any effort at all.”

“I see what you’re getting at.” I smiled. “Very clever.”

“Listen, Chelsea, you obviously know yourself. You seem terribly clever and I’ve only just met you this afternoon. But I’ve

a good feeling about this, and I sense that you do too. I’d hate to see you two get in your own way.”

I looked through the kitchen and into the living room, where Collin and Niamh had clearly made up. They were playing cards

on the low coffee table while Cormac changed the record. While it might have looked like a snapshot of the perfect scene,

it was just that: a snapshot. I understood what Collin meant when he said home wasn’t stable for everyone. The love in the

room was undeniable, but so was the tension, and I imagined returning to that would have been difficult for anybody.

Collin looked up just in time to catch my eye, and his wink warmed me to the core. If Aileen’s warmth was a blanket, Collin’s

was a raging fire.

“Roast is on,” Aileen called into the living room, saving me from having to respond. I had thought she’d called me into the

kitchen to save me from the budding living room fiasco, but now I realized it might have been to share some insight on Collin.

Smart woman. “Come on.” She nudged me, nodding toward the table. “A little food should put everyone to rights. Let’s eat.”

We chatted over one another as we passed heaping serving dishes around the table, taking turns scooping roasted vegetables and pouring gravy onto each other’s plates.

“You gotta cover the whole thing,” Collin said as he wielded the gravy boat over a plate that already had more food than I could eat in days. “That’s the proper way to eat a roast.”

“And that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? For the authenticity?”

“Right you are,” he said. “And spending time with this lot is about as authentic as it gets.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Aileen smiled. “Chelsea, spend a little more time with us and you’ll be a proper

Irishwoman in no time.”

“Aye, they say it takes falling in love with an Irishman for that,” Niamh said, shoving a piece of a potato into her mouth.

Had I started eating yet, I would have choked.

“And they say ye have to see twelve wild horses first to fall in love with an Irishman, don’t they, then?” Cormac said. “Have

ye seen any horses, Chelsea?”

“She’ll not be seeing any horses, and she’ll not be worried about falling in love, either,” Collin said, forcing a laugh and

peeling a Yorkshire pudding apart with his long fingers. “I’m begging you lot to talk about something normal.”

I could have kissed him right at the table for saving me. The last thing I needed was to be roped into a conversation about

love with Collin’s family when all this was supposed to be was a summer fling. As a notoriously terrible liar, there was no

way to hide that I might be worried about falling in love after all.

Fortunately, Aileen was right about the meal. Once everyone started eating, the food did a better job taking the edge off than the booze. I savored the silence while we chewed, and I listened while the Finegans told stories of past roasts and reminisced on cooking experiments gone wrong.

“Remember when Niamh didn’t rinse any of the veg from the garden and there was a layer of dirt on the bottom of the roasting

pan?” Collin chortled, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, fuck off, would ya? It wasn’t as bad as the time you were too cheap to go to the good butcher, so you bought that hunk

of beef from the market by the train station.”

Even Cormac laughed at this one, and I felt the tension from earlier easing with every bite shared and story told. It reminded

me of my own family back in Boston. Meals were as essential to Jewish culture as they seemed to be for the Irish, and the

moment of connection made me feel at once homesick and at home.

It was a complicated afternoon.

As we finished piling the last of the dishes on the counter, before Aileen shooed us from the kitchen so she could clean in

peace, she grabbed my shoulders with damp hands and stared right at me. “It was grand having you here today, Chelsea,” she

said.

“It was great to be here. Thank you for having me. And for everything.” We exchanged knowing smiles.

“You won’t forget the recipe for the custard, will you?”

“Would it matter?” Collin added, joining us at the counter. “It’s right on the side of the carton there.”

“I won’t,” I said, ignoring his comment but leaning into his hand on my back.

“Right, then,” Aileen smiled. “Off you go. Don’t want to miss the train back to the big city.”

“Do come back soon, will you?” Niamh asked. “Both of you.”

“Aye,” Cormac said from his chair.

We promised we would, but we both knew it wasn’t the truth. I’d be back to Boston in a few short weeks, and all this would be behind me. Behind both of us.

The journey back to Galway was slow and quiet, and my heart was as heavy as my head on the train window.

That heaviness, I realized eventually, wasn’t because of my uncertain future. It was because spending the day with Collin’s

family, piecing together the parts of his past that made him the way he is, only made me like him more.

Anyone who had a summer fling and came out unscathed couldn’t have felt a fraction of how I was feeling. If I thought moving

to Ireland alone was getting in over my head, it was only because I had no idea what falling for Collin Finegan would feel

like.

By the time we returned to the Wanderer, my food hangover had subsided and newfound energy coursed through me. I’d spent too

much of the day, too much of the summer, frankly, feeling pensive and confused and sorry for myself, and it was time I listened

to Aileen and got out of my own way.

“Feel like another drink before we go up?” I asked Collin once we got into the lobby. If I’d learned anything so far, it was

that if I was already in too deep, the least I could do was enjoy the ride. “I’d offer to buy you one as a thank-you, but

you tend the bar, so.”

“You know I’ll never say no to that.” He smiled. I’d hoped he hadn’t wanted the night to end either. “And you don’t have to

thank me. If anything, I should thank you for putting up with them. I know they were a bit much today.”

“I liked them,” I said, turning toward the door that led to the bar. “Come on. We can thank each other.”

“I like the sound of that.” He pulled open the heavy door and ushered me inside.

Sunday nights were often quiet in the bar as most of our guests turned over Monday morning, and this Sunday was no different.

A new hire was behind the bar, and a few tired guests occupied the stools.

“What d’you think about taking these drinks to go?” Collin asked, looking around. It wasn’t crowded, but I didn’t think that

was why he asked.

“Sound,” I said, precisely because I knew the effect the Irish slang would have on him.

“If you’re talking like that, it’s a right good thing we’re getting out of here.”

I swallowed the lump of anticipation in my throat, watching him order the drinks without making small talk with the bartender.

He meant business.

We left with two bottles of something local, wordlessly making our way to the staff wing. I’d hoped we were heading to his

room, because I left mine in a state of disarray trying to find something to wear to the roast.

When we got to the hallway, Collin took out his keys and I breathed a sigh of relief. He raised his eyebrows and nodded in