Page 9 of An Irish Summer

A pounding headache woke me just before the sun and I scrambled in my nightstand drawer for ibuprofen. I tried to give it

time to kick in, tossing, turning, and hoping to fall asleep again, but it became hopeless as the sun crept higher into the

sky.

Before I got out of bed, I let my eyes roam around the room. My denim jacket already hung over the back of the desk chair,

my journal and an expensive candle were arranged in the windowsill, and a pair of New Balance sneakers sat near the door.

Everything else had already found a home, despite the size of the room: toiletries arranged carefully in a caddy, clothes

folded and hung neatly in the wardrobe, essential oils and lip masks and melatonin tucked into the drawer in the nightstand.

When I managed to pull myself out of bed, I changed into leggings and a windbreaker, plaited my hair into two French braids,

and slipped out of my room undetected. The fresh air of a morning walk would surely help the hangover, and I had time to kill

before I had to be at the reception desk.

Outside the hostel, Galway was silent, save for the gentle sounds of nature before humans were awake to muffle them.

A grassy field stretched behind the Wanderer and curled around a pond I hadn’t noticed until now, and I felt it pulling me into its orbit.

I followed my feet as they dragged through the damp grass, carrying me down a makeshift trail.

Careful not to walk too far, I noted landmarks as I went.

A small shed, a lopsided bench, the remnants of a vegetable garden.

“I didn’t expect to see you out here so early.” A rumbling voice cut through the silence. I whipped around, both relieved

and startled to see the voice belonged to Collin.

“And I didn’t expect anyone to give me a heart attack so early, so I guess we’re both surprised,” I said. He chuckled, and

it echoed over the water.

“What brings you out at this hour?” he asked, turning his wrist over to look at his watch.

“A woman can’t just get up early and go for a walk?”

“Didn’t quite have you pegged as a morning person, that’s all.”

“And what did you have me pegged as, hmm?” I crossed my arms, knowing I was taking the bait.

“Oh, you know. Just away with the fairies is all.”

I most certainly did not know. His accent was challenging enough on its own, made only more difficult by the slew of idioms

I didn’t understand.

“Away with the fairies?” I asked.

“Just out of touch a bit. Distracted. Like your body is here, but your mind is someplace else.” That was putting it lightly.

“Does being away with the fairies mean I get to miss the early morning ridicule?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him. “Do

I get to do whatever the fairies are doing instead?”

“Aye, you want to know about the fairies?” He ignored my jab, and I watched his eyes light up at my question.

“You may have piqued my interest,” I confessed.

“I don’t know if you’re ready yet,” he mused, eyebrows lowered as he pretended to study me. “Fairy stories can’t be wasted on skeptics.” The longer we stared at each other, the more I realized he was serious.

“So you’re a storyteller too, huh?” I asked. “That’s your, what, eighth job here? Ninth?” I pretended to count on my fingers,

though I really couldn’t keep track.

“Storytelling is not a job,” he said, still serious. “It’s an art. Especially in Ireland.”

Duly noted. My cheeks reddened at yet another thing I felt I should have known before I arrived. Or maybe at the way he sounded

when he was talking about art.

I checked my watch, secretly hoping it was time to return to the Wanderer and get to work. There was a certain intimacy creeping

into the early morning that I wasn’t prepared for, and I needed to get myself in check before he could see the effect he had

on me.

“Always eager to get to the next thing, are ya?” he asked, nodding toward my wrist. For a man with a million jobs, he seemed

to have plenty of time for observation.

“Just want to make sure I’m not late,” I replied, forcing his question to stay on the surface. If I let it in any deeper,

I might have to consider it.

“Ah, you’ve got plenty of time for that still. Mornings are slow in Galway.”

“So I’m learning.” We fell into step beside each other, tracing the path back toward the hostel.

“I’m thinking we start your formal education this weekend. Neither of us has to work on Friday, so we can jump right in.”

“How do you know I don’t have to work on Friday?”

“Schedule’s posted in the staff room,” he said, smiling in a way that made me want to roll my eyes out of my head and into the pond.

“Sounds like you have it all figured out, then,” I said. “Do you even need me?”

“Deal’s a deal,” he said. “We shook on it, remember? You wanted nothing to do with Ireland, I charmed you into agreeing to

let me show you the country, now you’re bound to fall in love with it before the summer’s over... ringing any bells?”

I wish I didn’t remember , I wanted to say. I wish I hadn’t been thinking about the feeling of my hand in yours since you let it go.

“Friday it is,” I said eventually, taking a deep breath.

“Right then,” he said. “You can exhale, you know. I’ll go easy on ya at the beginning. We can start slow. Work our way up

to the big stuff.”

“Do I even want to ask what the big stuff is?”

“All in good time,” he said. I hummed, and we walked in silence the rest of the way. For a supposed storyteller, he was painfully

cryptic. I had a feeling the week was going to crawl to Friday, which meant I was going to have to find a way to pass the

time that didn’t involve trying to uncover Collin Finegan’s secrets.

We reached the hostel just as the night staff was turning over, and Flo was already laying out a small breakfast buffet. As

soon as the bell chimed above the door, she snapped her head in our direction.

“Good morning, you two,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the buffet table. “I take it drinks went well

last night?”

“No,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly, nervous she had the wrong idea. “I mean yes, drinks were fine, but we were just—”

“Found this one on a walk at sunrise,” Collin said, gesturing to me with his thumb and grabbing an apple off the table. Flo swatted his hand as he disrupted her display, and he took a large bite an inch from her face. The juice from the apple clung to his lips, and I hated myself for noticing.

“Ah, enjoying Galway, are we?” she asked me.

“Just trying to get a little fresh air before work, that’s all,” I said. Why was everyone so concerned with whether I liked

Galway?

“She’s going to be enjoying it soon enough,” Collin said with his mouth full. “Taking her out on Friday.”

“Not out out, like on a date or anything,” I corrected, though Flo hadn’t said a word. “Just a tour.”

“She wishes it was a date,” Collin said, tossing the core of the apple into the trash like a basketball.

“Like hell I do,” I said.

“Oh, Chelsea.” He laughed a smug-ass laugh, shaking his head just slightly enough to notice. Whether he was unfazed or faking

it was impossible to tell, which only flustered me even more.

“Have a nice day at work, ladies,” he said without giving me enough time to think of a witty response, then disappeared down

the hallway.

“Is he like this with everyone?” I ventured once he was out of earshot.

“For the most part,” she said, and while I wasn’t sure what kind of response I was looking for, there was no denying the inexplicable pang of what might have been disappointment.

“Some more than others. You’ll get used to it.

” We shook our heads and settled into our work.

Flo continued arranging fresh fruit and stirring bowls of porridge.

I made myself comfortable behind the desk and tried to force myself not to care that Collin treated everyone the same.

Once the phone started ringing, it hardly stopped. Who knew this tiny hostel in the west of Ireland would get so much activity?

I’d soon taken a handful of bookings for the next few weeks, answered some questions about our “amenities,” and fumbled around

with a map while trying to give directions to a lost German couple.

After the phone lines settled in the late afternoon and the bookings were up-to-date in the computer, I ventured into my own

journey of trying to sort my life back home. I had just opened Google and searched “hospitality jobs Boston” when Lars appeared

over my shoulder, slapping his big hand on the desk beside me.

“Leaving us already, are you? I thought we had until the end of the summer, at least.”

I forced a laugh despite my frustration that he was snooping and also interrupting. “We do,” I said, trying not to think about

that length of time, “but I still need to have something lined up for when I leave.”

“And how’s the search going?”

“This is as far as I’ve gotten.”

“And as far as you’re going to get, I’m afraid,” he said. “We have a hen do coming in this weekend, and they’re looking for

something special.”

“What does that mean for me?” I asked, fearful of his answer. “And what on earth is a hen do?”

“It’s like, uh...” He snapped his fingers looking for a phrase I might know. “Bachelor party? But with ladies.”

“Ah, a bachelorette,” I said.

“Right,” he confirmed. “Didn’t you used to do stuff like this back in Boston? Parties and whatever?”

“I did, but only after I’d been working at the bed-and-breakfast for years. Not on my first day,” I said.

“I tried to warn you.” Lars grinned. “As soon as you sign a contract here, you’re as much a part of this as anyone else, which

means you aren’t exempt from picking up the odd jobs. And in this case, we think you’re the right person.”

Intimidated as I might have been by the task on my first day, I couldn’t deny I was flattered. And throwing myself into planning

an event would be the perfect distraction.

“Thanks, Lars. I’d be happy to,” I said before I lost my resolve. It was just a hen do at a hostel. How hard could it be?

“You’re a star,” he said, punching me lightly in the shoulder. “Knew we could count on you.”

I was formatting the itinerary before he even left the room.

An hour of googling later and I was armed with a list of Galway’s greatest pubs, all of which seemed to have live music, along

with a single winery that offered a tasting, two spas located in hotels, a boat cruise, the website of a local photographer,

a coupon for a group booking at a hair salon, and the contact information for a party bus company. Maybe I wasn’t as rusty

as I thought.

I had the rest of the week to make some calls and solidify the schedule, so I made a to-do list to keep myself organized.

If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

Besides, something had to pass the time between now and Friday.