by Charish Reid
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Do your parents know you have a Facebook account?” Aiden asked as he hovered over Soircha and her laptop.
“Everyone has Facebook.”
“I don’t have one,” he replied in a dry tone. “Or a Twitter.”
Soircha laughed openly as she typed. “That’s because you’re old.”
Aiden straightened up and looked at his niece. She had certainly become feistier since he last saw her. “Mother, could you tell this child that thirty-eight is not old?”
“Well, even I have a Facebook account, dear,” Clare called from the kitchen.
“That hardly proves anything,” he said. “Are you sure you can find her?”
“Already did,” Soircha said after pointing and clicking. “Antonia ‘Toni’ Harper from Chicago.”
Aiden leaned back over the computer. The profile picture was of her sitting in a city park. She wasn’t looking at the camera lens, instead her gaze was directed behind the photographer. Her face was frozen in laughter, her brown eyes squinted against the sun. Her beautiful seemed so effortless, so easy and true.
“She so pretty,” Soircha said, resting her chin against her fist. “I love her curly hair.”
“I do too,” he said. “Scroll through her stuff.”
“This is it,” she said. “I have to send her a friend request to look at any more.”
“Go ahead then,” he urged.
Soircha looked up, her tone teasing. “Are you sure?”
“Do as he says,” Clare called from the kitchen.
Aiden watched her click a button and type a message. “What are you doing now?”
“Well, it looks weird that a kid is friending her,” she said pointedly. “I’m sending her a message from you.”
“Okay, tell her that I need to speak to her and give her my phone number.” Aiden worried a hangnail on his thumb as he watched his niece play messenger. “Do you think this will work?”
When Soircha was finished she sat back in her chair. “There’s no guarantee,” she said with a serious face. “But it’s worth a try. Ádh mór.”
Good luck indeed. “Thanks, love.”
There were no guarantees, but it was better than nothing. All these years, he told himself that he was different from Liam, obsessing over the past in an effort not to repeat it. Yet, the obvious mistakes were under his nose the whole time. If he had sat still long enough to think about it, he’d done the same thing to Lisa. He hadn’t physically left her, but his heart had drifted away without explanation. That was the only way a woman could have found a job in another country without him knowing. Aiden was in the wrong. Of course Antonia couldn’t help but be torn between him and her job and home. She needed him to tell her that he loved her. She needed to know that he’d do anything in his power to make it work. Even though it felt impossible last night, he now had the push to try. Antonia Harper wasn’t the kind of woman to be left and he could kick himself for doing just that.
“Don’t worry,” Clare said, emerging from the kitchen. She wiped her wet hands on a dish towel and flung it over her shoulder. “If it’s meant to happen, she’ll find you.”
Aiden sat leaning against his couch. “What if she doesn’t want to?”
“Well then you’ve learned the lesson you should have learned before you left to Tully Cross,” she said with a raised brow. “You may not remember it, but I distinctly told you not to forget about Lisa, but to learn from her. I get tired of my advice fallin’ on deaf ears.”
Aiden sighed.
“But you don’t need an ‘I told you so,’” she said. “My boy probably needs a good hug. Come on, Soircha, give your uncle Aiden a hug.”
He was enclosed by his mother and niece, as they stood in his living room. Aiden squeezed them against him and gazed over their heads, at the missing parts of his home. He was alone again and it was more painful than he could have ever imagined.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Here goes nothing.
Every grand adventure or humiliating disaster started with those words. Antonia steeled herself against the latter and boldly knocked on Aiden’s front door. While she waited, she took another look at his house number, just to make certain she was at the right place. She also examined his small front yard. The grass was green and the space was bricked off from the neighbors on either side of him. Several small bushes of salmon-hued roses were planted near his front window. It was a cute enough little house that she could see herself living in. But one step at a time. She needed to talk to the man first.
The door opened just as she raised her hand to knock again.
A young girl peered up at her. Soircha. Her glasses were perched on the end of her small pert nose, her eyes widened at the sight of Antonia. “Whoa,” she murmured. “It’s you.”
This wasn’t what Antonia expected. “Hi, Soircha?”
The girl’s freckled face broke into a grin. “You remember me?”
“Of course I do. How could I forget those beautiful curls?”
Soircha blushed deeply and attempted to hide behind the front door. “I don’t like my hair,” she said. “I keep asking my mom to straighten it, but she won’t.”
Antonia’s heart was still pounding, hoping that Aiden was there, but she felt for the girl. She wore a T-shirt that said read: “Fungi the Dolphin” and jean shorts that were cut off at the knees. At twelve, she was already tall and gangly. “You have your whole life to play around with your hair,” Antonia said. “Um, also, is your uncle Aiden home?”
“So you got my Facebook message?” The girl asked with excitement.
Antonia was confused. Facebook? She hadn’t checked it in nearly a week since she broke up with Derek and started writing her novel. She didn’t want the distractions that social media offered. “I don’t—”
“Who’s at the door, Soircha?” an older woman’s voice called from beyond the vestibule.
Antonia cringed.
“It’s Uncle Aiden’s girlfriend, Nana,” Soircha shouted.
“What?” Clare said a little too loudly. The older woman came swiftly to the front door with a worried expression. But when she saw Antonia her, she lit up. “Oh my goodness, it’s Antonia.”
Soircha rolled her eyes. “I know, Nana.”
“Hi,” Antonia said, giving a weak wave.
“Dear me, let her in for heaven’s sake,” Clare pulled open the door and rushed Antonia inside.
“I’m sorry for intruding like this,” Antonia replied.
“Goodness no! It’s no intrusion; this is a delightful surprise,” Aiden’s mother took her by the shoulders, ushered her straight to the living room, and pushed her onto Aiden’s gray sofa. “Can I make you some tea?”
“Um, that’s not—”
“—Soircha, be a dear and fire up your uncle’s kettle.”
Antonia was overwhelmed. She was sitting in Aiden’s quaint home; it was exactly the kind of place that she would love to live. His eclectic décor mirrored her apartment back home with its interesting wall art and mismatched furniture pieces.
“It’s so lovely to meet you in person,” Clare said, seating herself across from Antonia. A large round coffee table separated them. Aiden’s mother was a very attractive woman. Her kelly green eyes sparkled as she looked Antonia over. A knowing smile spread over her face. “I can see why he’s so depressed.”
Antonia’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry?”
Clare let out a hearty chuckle. “You’re involved with my most dramatic child, you know that? The row in the country must have been a banger because he came back in the foulest of moods.”
Antonia bowed her head in embarrassment, her body slumped in despair. “Oh, I’m an idiot...”
“My dear, you’re in love!” Clare said with glee.
She looked up. “What?”
“Excuse me?”
Soircha appeared at her side with a plate of cookies. “My uncle is in love with you,” she said in a serious voice. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and held out the plate. “Biscuit?”
Antonia shook her head. She was too scared to believe it. “How do you know?”
“He sounded insistent when he described it to us, right Soircha?” Clare asked.
Soircha nodded. “Oh yes, that’s why I sent you a Facebook message. He wanted to find you. He wanted to see you before you caught your plane. Like the movies!”
“But...” Antonia trailed off in a daze. He loves me? What about all that nonsense he threw at her last night?
“You should tell us what happened,” Soircha said, sitting beside her, starting on the cookies herself.
“The girl’s right,” Clare said with a nod. “We can’t work our magic until we know the full story.”
Antonia sat back against the couch, experiencing a gamut of perplexing emotions. As she stared at the coffee table, she tried her best to recount what happened in Tully Cross. “I told him about my job interview and how I had to leave soon,” she said in a dull voice. “When he didn’t respond the way I wanted him to, I threw his issues with his father in his face.”
“Oh dear,” Clare said, crossing her legs and leaning in closer. “Soircha, you better check on the tea.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” the girl replied.
“Check on it.”
“Fine.” Soircha reluctantly pulled herself off the couch and slumped back into the kitchen.
She felt weird discussing Clare’s estranged husband with her, but in an effort of fully disclosing all the drama, Antonia went ahead. “I understand that he’s stressed out with the idea of his father back in his life. And then there’s the stuff about his tenure review. I get it. I just wanted him to say...”
“That he loves you,” Clare finished. She didn’t appear to be upset about the news regarding Liam. “Even with all his degrees, the boy still can’t manage three little words.”
“At the very least, I needed him to tell me to stay,” she said with a shrug. “Also, I want to say that I’m sorry that we’re talking about your husband in this context.”
Aiden’s mother waved away her concern. “Oh dear me, if I worried about that man, I’d be in a constant state, wouldn’t I? I’ve not worried for Liam Byrnes since he left in 1995. Now, what’s this about your job?”
Antonia looked up to the ceiling. She swallowed hard and bit back the tears. “I told him that I might go back to the job that fired me. At one point, he told me that I should focus on the thing that made me happy; being a writer. Last night, he told me to go take the job.”
“And what do you want?”
She shrugged helplessly. “My interview was today,” she said. “And here I am, trying for a shot at love.”
“Of course,” Clare said. From where Antonia sat, she could tell the woman was trying to contain her excitement. “A woman’s career is important, but you’ve already done publishing. You’re probably meant to write a book, don’t you think?”
“I’m not taking the job,” Antonia said, finally bursting into tears. “I do want to write my book. I want to finish the damn thing and be happy with myself for once.”
She heard the whistle of the teakettle and Soircha banging around the cabinets. “The tea is ready.”
There was silence in the living room. The only sound was Antonia’s quiet sniffling. It felt good to confess what was weighing heavy on her heart. Although she didn’t know Aiden’s mother from Adam, her calm presence made it easier to cry and talk. They waited for Soircha to bring in the tea tray. Only then, did Antonia feel comfortable enough to take a cookie and eat through her tears. “Thank you both for listening to me. I feel so stupid.”
“Oh no, dear,” Clare said, getting up from her chair and coming around the coffee table. She edged Antonia and Soircha down the couch and sat down. “You mustn’t feel like that.”
Antonia sat between Aiden’s mother and niece, crying and eating a soggy cookie. She still felt like a prize idiot. “What will I do?” she asked.
Soircha poured them all tea. “You should wear a fancy dress and go to him,” she said excitedly. “That’s how they do it in the movies.”
Antonia and Clare both looked at Soircha, who pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “That’s not a bad idea,” the older woman mused. She picked up her cup of tea and stared at it thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea at all.”
“I don’t even know where he is,” Antonia said.
“He’s getting ready for the conference,” Soircha said, wrinkling her nose.
“That’s right, he is,” Clare said.
Antonia’s breathing was unsteady. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You’re already here in Galway,” Clara said. “You don’t know what you can do until you try. You have to have a little confidence, dear.”
“Do you think he’ll want to see me?”
“Definitely,” they said in unison.
Antonia thought about it for a moment. It was a crazy plan, much like this whole trip. But she was finally free of the restraints from back home. Derek was firmly stuck in the past and her job now was to work on her novel. And to find love. “Can I tell you guys something?” she said to the both of them. She paused. “I think I might love Aiden.”
They both clapped in delight. “That’s what I said,” Clare cried.
Soircha swooned from the excitement. “This is just like a movie!”
Sure, Antonia thought. Just like the movies.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“I trust you found what you needed in the country?” Robert asked, taking his seat next to Aiden. The large conference table they sat at was on a raised stage facing an audience that was still streaming in. Robert and Aiden were only half of the panel that was to present; they were waiting on Lisa and Donald Maguire from the philosophy department.
Aiden shuffled his papers before answering. “I may have, but I did a poor job of holding on to it.” Robert may have been referring to his father, but Aiden had Antonia on his mind. He hadn’t counted on missing her so intensely. For the last few days, he had grown used to opening his cottage door to find her. The hole in his heart came from a twelve-hour absence. “I finished the paper in a day like you said I would,” he added.
Robert chuckled as he clapped Aiden on the back. “Of course you did. I finished my paper this morning.”
“I’m winging my introduction though,” Aiden said. “I was struck with inspiration during my Tully Cross visit.”
“In the form of a woman?” Robert asked.
He nodded and looked down at his papers. Antonia was a large part of his inspiration. Talking to her about her own writing kicked him into gear and energized his scholarship. While he was able to plow through the main points of his paper, the introduction had evaded him until he made it to the university. On his drive over, Aiden thought about his father and asked himself why he wanted to be a professor. Why would he devote his time to this path if he couldn’t give it his full attention and passion? The answer could no longer be: I just don’t want to end up like him. Whether he was ready to reconcile with the fact or not, his parents were right. They could see what he’d been blind to all these years. Aiden Donagh Byrnes was his father’s son and he was his own man. Antonia had been able to see it as well.
“Behind every great man...” Robert murmured as he opened his portfolio. He placed his papers and note cards neatly before him. “Speaking of women, I hope seeing Professor Brennan won’t be too awkward?”
Lisa was the least of his worries. Aiden knew how to be cordial with another professional if it meant getting on with the day. He’d had plenty of practice. “Not at all.”
Out in the audience, the seats were steadily filling with scholars from all over the country. It was going to be a packed house tonight. The crowd didn’t bother Aiden, he had presented and attended enough of these conferences to know how to work a crowd. Inevitably, there would be questions from scholars who only stood to talk about their own research. They would no doubt take away the focus from the speaker with droll observations and long explanations about how wrong he was. No, Aiden. You’re not going to be a nihilist about this. It was still an honor to be accepted into the conference and he promised himself to attend the other panels after his.
“Dr. Byrnes,” said a familiar female voice behind him.
Aiden turned in his seat. “Dr. Brennan.”
She sat beside him, wearing her most professional black pantsuit. Her black bob was pinned to the side. “It appears that we’ll have a good turnout today,” she said in a light voice.
“Looks like it,” he said. “Could you find parking alright?”
She chuckled. “Barely. Now that I don’t work here anymore, parking privileges are a thing of the past. And the kids going to Spiddal are already getting bussed out.”
“Yeah, my niece is heading out on Friday.”
“Hell might be trying to navigate a sea of preteen girls to get to school,” she said. “I felt like I was transported to grade school again and got triggered.”
Aiden smiled. “There’s been a lot of that going around.”
Donald Maguire eventually showed up, greeted the panel, and commenced with setting up the podium microphone. He would be presenting a paper and chairing the panel. His presence meant that they were finally getting started. Aiden smoothed down his neck tie and straightened his blazer. He decided to take a formal approach to his conference attire, wearing the suit that he bought for last year’s commencement ceremony. When Lisa dragged him to the tailor to purchase it, she insisted on the European cut, which made him uncomfortable. He at least chose the color, a gun-metal gray that worked well with his eyes according to the saleswoman.