Mismatched

by Elle Casey

  “Might be.” He lifts his cup of tea and takes a sip. Somehow he makes what should be an effeminate thing look sexy and rogue-like.

  I sigh. It’s a nice fantasy, but it’s just not any kind of possible reality for me. I decide to just let it all hang out, putting my hands on my legs to steady myself. “Listen, Donal, I’m into you. I’m not going to pretend like I’m not. But the fact is that I’m a lawyer with a really good job who lives back in Boston, and I’ll be leaving here by the end of the week to get back to my life there. So I don’t see the point in making my departure any more difficult than it’s already going to be where you’re concerned.”

  He puts his teacup down. “I understand. And I’d never want to put any pressure on ye.” He stands. “But if ye’re up for it, I’d still like to take ye to dinner.”

  “Will you try to convince me to stay? Because I don’t want you to think that’s possible.”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  I shrug, kind of sad now that I realize he’s a genuine nice guy. “Then what’s the point? Aren’t we just going to make it harder for me to go?”

  “I hope not. I just felt as though I owed ye an explanation for my behavior last night and ye’d make me feel a lot better if ye’d let me take you out for a meal.”

  I should say no, but my heart is just not going to let that happen. “Fine. Just let me run upstairs and get changed.” And totally redo my hair and makeup while I’m at it. I don’t say that part, because I don’t want him thinking I’m high maintenance.

  “Take yer time. I’ll be here.” He sits back down and picks up a knitting magazine that rests near his chair, folding a leg over as he turns the first page.

  I race up the stairs, trying but failing to not sound like a herd of elephants. I burst into the door of our room and start throwing things around, trying to find my makeup case and a pair of boots that don’t suck.

  “What the hell, Rid?” says a whiny Erin. “People are trying to sleep around here.”

  “Sorry, but I have a date and I have to get ready. Where are my Burberry ankle booties? Have you seen them?”

  Erin sits up and stares at me, her hair a complete wreck. “What’d I miss?”

  I throw my covers over to the other side of the bed. “Donal is downstairs and he wants to take me to dinner.”

  She tilts her head at me. “Did you go down there already?”

  “Yes.” I freeze at her troubled expression. “Why?”

  “Take a look in the mirror and then ask me that question.”

  My eyes widen in horror as she starts to laugh. I dash into the bathroom and nearly scream out loud at my reflection. Angry at myself for being so stupid, I put my hair up with a band and scrub all the leaky mascara and smudged lipstick off my face. Talk about a horror show. How that man found it within his heart to ask me out when I sat across from him looking like a deranged circus clown, I’ll never know. Maybe he needs glasses. Either that or he’s the nicest man alive and I should probably propose to him before someone else snatches him up.

  Erin comes into the bathroom and leans on the inside of the door. “So, you’ve got a hot date, eh?”

  “No, not hot. He and I discussed things.” I start applying my makeup with hurried, jerky motions as I explain. “We both know this is going nowhere and he’s just taking me out to apologize for being a putz last night.”

  “A putz, huh? You actually failed to mention that for some reason. I wonder why.”

  I throw a washcloth at her. “Shut up. Like I wanted to rain on your orgasm parade last night. What kind of friend would I be if I did that?”

  “No one had any orgasms last night.”

  “Whatever. You know what I mean. You’re all gaga over Michaél and I didn’t want to spoil the mood. It wasn’t a big deal, anyway. He’s just not a fan of the cliffs, and tonight he’s going to tell me why.”

  “How come? I mean, if this thing between you isn’t a thing, why bother?”

  I pause the applying of mascara to shrug. “I have no idea. But I’m not going to fight it. He’s hot, he’s into me, and I’m leaving in a few days. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Erin rolls her eyes. “I’m the wrong person to ask.” She leaves me alone in the bathroom.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I yell out after her, but I get no response.

  “Whatever,” I mumble to myself. I need to wrestle this hair into something resembling a ‘do before Donal gets so tired of waiting he leaves me behind again.

  Ten minutes later and I’m there. Erin has laid out the perfect outfit for me on my bed. I force her to sit up in her bed and hug me.

  “I’m totally sick to my stomach right now,” she says.

  I let her lie back down. “Me too. I’m hoping some hair of the dog will help me get through it.”

  “Beware the hair of the Guinness dog, that’s all I’m saying.” She rolls over onto her side, turning her back to me.

  I rest my hand on her hip. “You going to be okay alone tonight?”

  “Me? Alone?” Her eyes are closed and her voice is fading. “I have Mrs. O’Grady and her pet cemetery cat to keep me company. What more … could a girl…” She snores the rest of her thought out.

  I’m dressed, perfumed, and ready to go less than five minutes later. Donal stands and comes to the bottom of the stairs as I reach the foyer below.

  “Ye look very pretty.” He holds out his hand for mine, making me feel like some sort of princess as I descend the last step.

  “Thank you. You do too.”

  He leads me from the foyer to the front door.

  “Goodnight, Mrs. O’Grady. See you before eleven!”

  “Goodnight, deary! Have a nice time!”

  Donal is driving a truck that looks like it’s been zapped by a shrink-ray. There’s room for the two of us in the front and maybe a couple cases of beer in the back. I hold my laughter in, knowing that to laugh at a man’s truck in any country is to call his masculinity into question.

  He opens the door for me and shuts me in once I’m settled, and we drive to the bar in silence. I want to fill the awkward space with words, but nothing will come to mind; nothing that doesn’t sound trite or full of emptiness, anyway. Why do I feel like I need to confess the secrets I hold in my soul when I’m next to him? It makes no sense, so my default reaction is to do nothing at all.

  The meal is delicious. Fish and chips that according to Donal are the very best available outside of England. We both sit back with a pint of beer when it’s all over and smile at one another.

  “Care for a dessert?” he asks. “I’d be happy to share.”

  “Share? Please. I don’t share sugar.”

  “Not even with me? I let ye ride Big Dick, after all.”

  My face goes red with his flirting. I thought I could handle anything from any guy, but Donal has superpowers or something because he’s making me feel like a virgin all over again. Thank goodness I have learned as an attorney to hide my emotions well.

  “Okay, maybe with you,” I concede, “on account of your Big Dick and everything.”

  He laughs so loud, everyone around us looks over. Several of them smile along with us, and it almost makes me sad. They probably think we’re a couple and that we’re in love. I almost wish they were right.

  Donal calms himself down and then goes all serious on me. “So, as I said before, I brought ye out here with the intention of apologizin’ and explainin’ myself.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t have to. I’m fine with not knowing the details.” I’m worried his story will make me like him more than I already do. It’s better if I can imagine he’s a jerk sometimes for no reason. It’ll make it easier to leave.

  “But I want to. Ye see …” He looks off into the distance, and I can see he’s not really here with me anymore. He’s in the past somewhere. “For many years, I looked after a girl.”

  “Looked after? What’s that mean?”

  His eyes are back on me now. “
To be fair, I didn’t just look after her. We were an item for some of that time. But it was more out of my desire than hers. She always had an eye for another fella.”

  I snort very inelegantly. “She must have had bad eyesight if she preferred some other guy to you.”

  He smiles, a lonely kind of expression. “Thanks for that. In any case, when we weren’t together that way, she still needed a lot of looking after. She had a bit of a problem with depression.”

  “Oh. That’s a bummer.” I’m starting to get an uneasy feeling as his face goes dark.

  “She was in love with this other lad, as I said, but he was married and he didn’t really treat her very well. She tried to hold on but it was too much for her.”

  “What was? The relationship?”

  “Not just that. Life, maybe. She went to the Cliffs of Moher and …” He shrugs and looks down into his beer mug. “It was the last I saw of her. The last any of us saw of her.”

  My hear lurches. “Oh, that’s terrible.”

  “Aye. It was. It still is.”

  I put my hand on his and lean in trying to catch his eye. “I’m so sorry, Donal. Really, I am. You must have been so sad.”

  “I was and I still am. I will never believe that there was nothing I could do. I just … I didn’t know what to say to her, what to do to make her happy.”

  When he finally looks up at me I can see he’s suffering, but he doesn’t cry.

  I’m desperate to bring the light back into his eyes. “There’s nothing you can do for depressed people except encourage them to get help. You’re not responsible for the decisions they make.”

  “Easy to say, easy enough to hear, but not easy at all to believe in yer heart of hearts when someone ye love has … done what she did.”

  I understand. I stand up and grab my coat off my chair. “Come on, Donal. Let’s go take a walk.”

  “A walk?”

  I nod. “I want to go back to the cliffs with you. Just you and me. We don’t have to talk or do anything. I just want to be there with you.”

  He stares at me for the longest time, and then he finally gets up. He doesn’t say a word, he just guides me out of the pub and into his car, and he drives us to the Cliffs of Moher.

  I open the door before he has time to change his mind. “Come on, let’s go. I’d like to get there before it’s totally dark.” The sun is setting and we don’t have much daylight left.

  He joins me and takes my hand. We stop about twenty feet from the edge nearest us.

  “What was her name?” I ask.

  “Ciara. She was twenty-two. She died on Valentine’s Day, five years ago.”

  “So young,” I whisper, my heart aching for her. I cannot imagine what she must have suffered to make her want to jump from this place to the dark and jagged rocks below. Life is just beginning for a twenty-two year old. I was just there myself, and I know this for a fact.

  “I will never forget her,” he says. “Sometimes I go for days or even weeks without thinking of her, and then I’ll see a photograph or hear a song and it all comes back. The moods, the sadness, the desperation.”

  “What about the guy? The one she was in love with.”

  “I have to convince myself not to kill him with my bare hands at least once a month. We did have one altercation that didn’t end well for him, but I’ll not be sorry for it.”

  “You shouldn’t be.” I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him against me. He puts his arm over my shoulders and does the same. We both stare out into the mist and listen to the waves crash against the rocks.

  I can’t think of anything profound to say, so I just say what’s in my heart. “If you ever feel like you’re losing that battle, you call me, okay?”

  “But ye’ll be in Boston.”

  “So what? I’ll be just a phone call or an email away. And if you ever come to Boston, I’ll show you my world.”

  “I’ve never been to the United States. I never go anywhere.”

  I smile sadly and squeeze him tighter. “Maybe someday you will.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  We stay there for another ten minutes or so and then walk back to the car in silence, just watching the scenery go by as we drive back into Doolin. When we stop in front of Mrs. O’Grady’s I turn to look at Donal. “I had a really nice time. Thank you for taking me out.”

  “Ye must think I’m a real nutter, taking you to the cliffs and relivin’ the suicide of an old girlfriend.”

  I reach out and put my hand on his cheek. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I don’t think you’re a nutter. I think you’re pretty fantastic, actually.”

  A thousand words couldn’t express how I feel right now, so instead of trying I just lean in and kiss him softly on the lips, pulling away before it can get any more involved. I’m already falling for this guy and I’m not in the mood to get my heart trashed over something easily avoided.

  “Goodbye, Donal. I hope I see you again one of these days.”

  “Goodbye, Ridlee from Boston. It was a true pleasure to have made yer acquaintance.”

  I don’t shed a single tear until I’m on the other side of Mrs. O’Grady’s front door and it’s closed behind me. Of course then, I turn on the waterworks and bawl like I just lost the love of my life. Mainly because it feels like I just did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ERIN

  “SO, WHAT DO YOU WANT to do today?” I ask Ridlee, who is lost in thought buttering a piece of toast. She doesn’t answer me but pops a little black pudding on the corner and bites into it. It’s Tuesday morning and we’re in the breakfast room of the B&B. It’s raining — well there’s a surprise … not! I look forlornly around the room and then back to my friend, who has been very quiet all morning.

  “You’ve changed,” I say. That gets her attention.

  “What do you mean?” she asks all serious.

  I nod at the black pudding on her toast.

  “Oh that. It’s good for the blood.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Don… oh, never mind.” She sits up straighter in her chair and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

  Just as I’m about to answer, my phone pings. I look at it under the table — an old habit from days gone by when my grandmother’s beady eye could read a private text at ten paces. It’s from Micheál.

  I know you probably have a busy day ahead of you, but could you add me on to your to-do list?

  I can’t help but smile.

  “What?” asks Ridlee leaning across the table.

  “It’s Micheál. He’s flexting with me.” I punch in my response.

  Hey! Stop thinking about me!

  “You seeing him today?” Ridlee asks casually.

  “I thought that you and I’d be hanging out. You know, last couple of days on the auld sod an’ all. Just the girls...”

  “Nah, I gotta finalise the paperwork for the bar deal and as much as I’d love to have you do the grunt work, you’re not capable, so you’re free to go. Don’t worry, though, you’ll be receiving my bill soon enough.” She smiles sweetly.

  “You’re in a good mood today,” I say fishing for information. But Ridlee’s not giving anything away. She just smiles serenely and goes back to eating her blood sausage. My phone pings again.

  If I were with you right now, what would we be doing?

  Dishes for old Mrs. O

  Works for me. I’m on my way over.

  Spend the day with me.

  LOL

  There's an old Irish saying that if you make a girl laugh you're halfway up her leg. BCNU ;)

  I look up from my phone to Ridlee and ask, “BCNU? What’s that one?”

  “Be Seeing You,” Ridlee says. “He’s on his way over. Is that what you’re wearing?” She raises an eyebrow.

  I look down at my scruffy pajamas. Mrs. O’Grady’s other guests have all left so we’ve been kinda treating the place like home.

  “Shit!” I ju
mp to my feet.

  Ridlee looks up from the local paper she’d suddenly become engrossed in.

  “Talk to him if he arrives. And be nice!” I yell over my shoulder, sprinting out of the room and taking the stairs two at a time.

  “Don’t forget about the Virgin Mary and Mr. Dreamy!” Ridlee shouts even louder.

  Meanwhile, I’m upstairs furiously sifting through my meagre wardrobe looking for something that says sexy but effortless chic; I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. I pull out my Victoria’s Secret bra and panties, ‘cause you never know, and then turn to Ridlee’s suitcase. Her clothes are so beautiful and mine are all so blah.

  I pick up my phone and text her. Hi VBF

  She responds instantly. R U CRiUS? Txt ing overseas from upstairs?

  DILLIGAS

  ???

  Do I Look LIke I Give A Shit?

  ???

  LOL. Can I wear your clothes?

  NO!

  Pls Have None of my own

  STBY

  ???

  Sucks To Be You ;)

  Riddddd-leeeeeyyyyyy!!!! Plssssss?

  KYO

  Knock Yourself Out?

  Bingo!

  THX BFF xoxo

  XOXO

  Well that little interaction probably cost more than lunch, but I’m psyched to have the green light on Ridlee’s wardrobe. I take out a pair of five-hundred-dollar jeans that make my ass look awesome and a Diane Von Furstenberg blouse, cut on the bias, that looks stunning, even if I do say so myself. I shower quickly and get dressed, applying a little make-up for the natural look. My hair, for once, falls in natural waves and barely needs brushing. For the final touch I pull on Ridlee’s Burberry booties and I’m good to go. I feel super sexy in my VS underwear, as though I have a secret weapon.

  I race out of the room but pull myself up sharply as I get to the top of the stairs. I walk down casually, even stopping to rearrange the flowers on the middle landing ever so slightly. I can hear a male voice coming from the dining room and then laughter.