Aislinn swallowed. “Padraig, that's your job, and the deadline passed months ago, remember?” she reminded him gently. “I'm sure it's too late for you two to enter now.”
“Oh.” He looked crestfallen for a split second, then scrambled to cover it with an expression of diffidence. “Oh, well, no mind. I guess it just slipped my mind, since we've been so busy round here - you know, you and me gettin' used to running the place without your da.”
“I'm sure that's what happened.”
“There's always next year. I just hope Deenie isn't too disappointed.”
Aislinn chuckled to herself, amused by how they all thought of Deenie as a person and not a dog. “I think she'll live. By the way, I'm sure she'll want to sleep down here with you while I'm away.”
“Grand. She can lie across the bottom of my bed and keep my feet warm.”
“All right, then. See you in the morning.”
*****
“Admit it: you like Dublin already.”
Aislinn shot Liam a dirty look as they sat down on a bench inside Saint Stephen's Green, Dublin's most famous park. They'd strolled much of the lush, green grounds, pausing at one point to sit on the edge of the fountain in the center of it all just to soak it all in. She hadn't much interest in the statue of James Joyce, but she thought she should see it anyway, since everyone said he was Ireland's greatest writer.
Aislinn loved that a place so calm and peaceful existed in the middle of the city. It was a great place for people watching, too. She could spot the tourists a mile away, clumped in groups with their maps and sensible shoes. There were local people sprawled out on the grass reading in the sunshine, eating their lunch, or chattering away. Old men thinking no one could see them stealing a smoke in public. Buskers strumming their guitars, their battered old guitar cases open at their feet so people could toss coins in.
They'd driven up from Ballycraig in a car Liam had rented, which she thought was madness, since a bus ran every few hours from Moneygall. But Liam insisted on it, and it didn't seem worth arguing about. On the drive, listening to the radio, she learned he had awful taste in music. She'd been positive that once they got into Dublin proper, he'd become a nervous wreck behind the wheel, but he was as calm as could be, saying that nerve-racking as it was driving on the wrong side of the road, it was nothing compared to driving in Manhattan.
They were staying at the same hotel as his brother, a moderately posh place called Kelly's located right near Trinity College. Aislinn didn't see why they couldn't make do with a nice, small B and B, but again, Liam was insistent, assuring her he had the money to pay for it. She didn't want to admit to him that she'd never stayed in a hotel.
He playfully nudged her shoulder with his. “You haven't admitted you like it yet.”
"We've only been here a few hours! So?
“Yes, I like it,” she admitted. “It's smaller than I imagined. And everyone seems so friendly.”
Liam looked surprised. “You expected people to be unfriendly? Here? In Ireland?”
Aislinn laughed. “I guess we do have a reputation.” “Slightly.” He took her hand. “Want to go to Bewley's for lunch?”
“Oh, I would love that! My aunt used to go when she was younger. She said the coffee was lovely.”
Liam looked at her quizzically. “Do you still have extended family around Ballycraig?”
“Not anymore. They've all died or gone. It's not easy to make a living if you don't farm, and even then -”
“I can help you out if -”
“I most certainly do not need help!”
Liam raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Aislinn grabbed one of his hands and kissed it. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off. What I was going to say before you cut me off was that I've never been dependent on anyone for anything, and I'm not about to start now. I'm one of the lucky ones; I make a good living selling my wool,” she continued proudly, “enough to turn a profit, and I'm able to pay Padraig a decent wage. That's more than enough.”
Liam looked at her admiringly. “It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?”
“I guess not. Why? Does it take a lot to make you happy?”
Liam furrowed his brows. "J don't know. I was unhappy for a really long time, mainly with myself. Totally had my head up my ass. But now.. :
“Now what?” Aislinn pressed softly.
“Things are changing. He paused. ”I m changing.
"I didn't know you before, so I've no way to gauge that.
“Be glad you didn't know me before. I was a surly bastard.” “I find that very hard to believe.” “Ask Quinn at dinner. He'll tell you.”
“I will.” She snuggled closer to him. “Where is he right now?”
“Interviewing someone for his article. He wants to meet us at six thirty at this Indian place called Jaipur. It's right up the street from the hotel. He says it's great.”
“I've never had Indian food,” Aislinn admitted reluctantly. “Unless you count curry on my chips.”
“Doesn't count.”
Aislinn suddenly felt self-conscious. “God, what a bumpkin you must think I am.”
“Why would I think that?”
“Never been to Dublin, only been to London once . . .” She looked down at her hands."I've always been happy just being in Ballycraig
“There's nothing wrong with that. Apart from Manhattan, I've only ever been here and in Ballycraig.”
Aislinn slowly lifted her head, smiling. “Really?”
“My parents own a bat; Aislinn. They've never made much money, so we didn't travel much. And working as a bartender, I've never made much, either. But it didn't matter, because I loved my job. I still love it.”
“If you've never made much money, then how are we affording that posh hotel?” she asked fretfully. “And the car?”
“I did have some money saved up.”
“For something special -?”
“A motorcycle.”
“You could buy one here.”
Liam looked up, shielding his eyes against the sun.
His lack of a definitive answer filled Aislinn with a creeping sense of unease. He doesn't want to buy a motorcycle here, because he doesn't plan to stay in Ireland. Well. no use getting your knickers in a twist over it right now. Just take it as it comes.
“I'm feeling a bit peckish.” Aislinn declared.
“Yeah, I could eat.” Liam stood and extended a hand to her. “To Bewley's.”
“To Bewley's.”
*****
Her aunt Qiarlene had been right: Bewley's did do a lovely cup of coffee, and their sticky buns were heaven. Not the most nutritious lunch, Aislinn had to admit, but she didn't care: she was on holiday and could eat what she pleased. The café was on Grafton Street, a wide pedestrian shopping common. It was another great place to watch people, but she disliked the crowds. There weren't any stores there she cared to shop in, so she was glad when they walked down to Wellington Quay and spent some time just strolling hand in hand along the Liffey. Massive, silent cranes towered over the skyline, a reminder of the building boom that had stopped dead in its tracks when the economy bottomed out. Even so, the views along the river were spectacular. They decided to join all the other tourists and cross the Ha'penny Bridge.
Aislinn noticed that Liam got a bit broody as the afternoon wore on. She tried to pay it no mind: perhaps the impending dinner with his brother was prompting a small bout of homesickness.
She did fret a bit over what to wear to dinner when they got back to the hotel room. Aislinn had borrowed a nice, camel colored cashmere (cashmere!) jumper from Nora, and had brought along a pair of tight black jeans. Nora tried to talk her into borrowing those ridiculous spiked boots, but Aislinn would have none of it. The last thing she needed was to turn an ankle and come home on crutches! Plus, they were dead uncomfortable. No: black flats were fine.
Aislinn even brought some makeup with her but ultimately decided not to wear it. It
wasn't who she was. Even the jumper made her feel a little bit like a poser, until Nora reminded her that Liam might want to go out to dinner somewhere nice, and wearing one of her old flannel shirts or pilled, woolly jumpers wouldn't do. Aislinn capitulated.
They arrived at Jaipur at six thirty on the dot. “Quinn's going to be late,” Liam told her. “He's always late. He runs on Quinn time.”
Liam was right. At ten minutes to seven, a well-built, slightly disheveled man with salt-and-pepper hair came flying through the door of the restaurant, his eyes scanning the room. The minute he spotted Liam, he broke into a wide grin, which Liam returned. Aislinn's stomach gave a small tickle as they rose to meet him.
Quinn grabbed his brother up into a big bear hug. “There he is.” He pulled back, looking Liam up and down. “You look great, you bastard.”
“So do you,” said Liam. He pointed to Quinn's tie. “Wow. No stains.”
“Bite me,” Quinn said affectionately. He turned his gaze to Aislinn as he held out his hand. “Hi, Aislinn. I'm Quinn.” He paused. “Ah, screw the formality.” With that, he hugged Aislinn, too. She was delighted.
The three of them sat down. “You order yet?” Quinn asked.
“No, we were polite and waited for you.“ said Liam. ”How did your interviews go?"
“The one in the morning was a tight-lipped, tight-assed SOB who wasted my time. The one this afternoon was like hitting pay dirt, especially since I greased the wheels with a few pints.”
“My brother isn't shy about using colorful language,” Liam informed Aislinn.
“Of course he isn't. He's got Irish blood running through his veins, hasn't he?”
“I like you,” Quinn said with an easy smile. He cracked open his menu. “I can make some recommendations, if you like. I know what's good here. Believe me, this is real Indian food. None of that watered-down chicken vindaloo crap like we have at home.”
“Order away,” said Liam.
Aislinn couldn't believe the boatload of food that eventually arrived, all of it delicious. And Quinn was everything Liam had said he was: smart, opinionated, and curious; she felt comfortable with him right away. She sensed the two brothers were doing their best to try to minimize talking about home so that she didn't feel left out, though it wasn't necessary. She wanted to gobble up every tidbit she could about her man, and she told Quinn so. He seemed to take great enjoyment in embarrassing Liam, and Liam had no problem embarrassing Quinn right back. Aislinn loved the way the two of them hurled affectionate insults at one another. There was so much fondness, she found it hard to believe that there was a time he couldn't stand the sight of Quinn because Liam felt inadequate. Liam O'Brien, feeling inadequate! Now that was sidesplitting.
She excused herself to go to the loo, wondering if they'd talk about her while she was gone. Go oil with yourself, you egomaniac. The world doesn't revolve around you. Though sometimes, Liam made her feel like it did, and she loved that.
*****
“She's great. Li,” Quinn said the minute Aislinn disappeared into the bathroom.
Liam's shoulders slumped. “I know.”
“What the hell is your problem?"
"I'm in love with her.
“Yeah, that's a real problem, being in love with a gorgeous, witty woman,” Quinn mocked.
“It is a problem.”
“Oh, let me guess: you don't know how to be happy. Or no, wait: you don't deserve to be happy.”
“Shut up for a minute, will you?” Liam replied, irritated. He took a long sip of water to cool his burning tongue that had been singed by the spicy Indian food. “What am I going to do when I get the green light to come home? She'll never give up her farm.”
“Are you sure about that? Or are you just assuming it?” I'm sure.
“Have you told her you love her?”
Liam felt sheepish. “Well, no.”
“Just tell her you love her, and see how it goes.” Quinn took a sip of water. “Does she know you want to go home?”
“I assume so.”
“But you haven't actually said anything.”
Liam felt like he was being grilled, but he knew it was just what the situation required. Even though it had made him chafe in the past, Quinn was good at giving advice. “No, because if I tell her, she might want to end things, and I don't want them to end.”
“If you love her, you should tell her.”
“She probably knows.”
“Does she love you?”
I think so, yeah. Probably. I mean, I assume so.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Quit assuming stuff, will ya? Tell her”
“I will, okay? When the time is right.” Liam was starting to feel testy, so he changed the subject to PJ Leary, the writer and Wild Hart regular who'd finally sold the epic Celtic fantasy he'd been writing for twenty years as the follow-up to his first book. “Incredible,” said Quinn, shaking his head. “The publisher is pouring money into marketing. They might even send him out on a book tour.”
“You envious?”
“Nah. I'm glad for him. The guy's been toiling in obscurity so long, he deserves a break. Mom and Dad might throw him a small book party.”
Liam felt a small pang in his gut and looked away.
“Sorry,” said Quinn. “That's just the type of stuff you don't want to hear.”
“It is what it is,” Liam replied numbly, though his brother was right.
Mom and Dad would love her, you know.
Liam fiddled with his fork. “Yeah, I know.”
“I think Dad might have gone to school with her father. I'll have to check.” Quinn checked his watch. “Aunt Bridget and Uncle Paul pissed I didn't come down?”
“I didn't tell them you were in.”
“I'm sure they know anyway.”
“Of course they do.”
“What do they think of you and Aislinn?”
“They think it's good,” Liam hedged. He didn't want to tell Quinn about the bet. After years of trying to convince himself he didn't give a rat's ass what his older brother thought of him, now that they were reconciled, he found he did care. Deeply.
“Look, don't say anything about it to Mom and Dad yet, okay?”
“Sure, whatever - though if Aunt Bridget and Uncle Paul know, I'm sure they've told Mom and Dad.”
“Well, if they have, Mom is sure keeping uncharacteristically quiet about it,” Liam said sardonically. “She hasn't said a word to me.”
“That's because you're a bad son who hardly calls her,” Quinn ribbed.
Liam groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aislinn walking back to the table. He wasn't surprised when he noticed other men's heads turning; she was gorgeous, and that proud bearing of hers telegraphed a sense of power and self-confidence that was all but impossible to ignore. He smiled proudly . .
Perfect timing, he said, standing to pull her chair out for her. We just finished talking about you.
Aislinn laughed. “That'd explain why my ears were burning in the loo.”
Quinn checked his watch again. “I hate to eat and run, but I have to eat and run.”
“Another interview?” asked Liam.
“Yeah, and then I want to get back to the hotel early to type up my notes.” He signaled for the bill and plucked it from the center of the table before Liam had a chance to grab it. “On me.”
Liam protested unsuccessfully.
Bill paid, they walked outside. The night air was cool, bordering on chilly. Liam felt a lump form in his throat as he and Quinn looked at one another, neither of them knowing how long it would be until they saw each other again.
“Soon,” Quinn said, hugging Liam tight before moving on to hug Aislinn. “Keep him out of trouble, will ya?”
Aislinn slipped her hand in Liam's and squeezed it. “I'll try my best.”
“Call me when you get back to New York, okay?” Liam said to his brother.
“You sound like Mom.”
“Don't bust my chops. Just do it.�
�
“Done” Quinn straightened his tie. “Bye now.”
“Bye,” Liam and Aislinn called after him. She could sense Liam's pain as they watched Quinn disappear around the corner and out of sight. Liam puffed up his cheeks and blew out some air. “Well, that's that.”
“He's lovely."
Yeah, he's a good guy.
“What would you like to do now? I'm up for anything, anything at all.”
Liam put his arm around her shoulder. “I just want to walk. Walk around the city.”
“Great idea.”
Straight Up
Chapter Sixteen
************************************************************************************************
Aislinn thought Liam is mood much improved the next day. Perhaps their making love at the hotel that morning had helped banish the pain of parting from his brother and missing his family.
Unable to stop herself, she called the Fry brothers as she and Liam walked to the chippie for lunch. Alec assured her all was well. The Frys were highly amused by Padraig's alternating between barking orders and ignoring them. “As long as it isn't getting in the way of you two doing what needs to be done, please let it pass.” Aislinn entreated them. “Course we will,” Alec promised. She finished by asking after Nora: they'd seen no trace of her, apart from dishes left in the sink. “Hiding from us, she is,” Alec said with a chuckle.
“Probably.” Aislinn agreed.
“Here it is.” Liam announced just as she was folding closed her mobile.
Liam gestured at a small, forest green storefront with the words “Leo Burdock's Traditional Fish & Chips” in white and gold lettering above the door. A line was snaking out down the narrow pavement, the delicious aroma of frying fish and sizzling chips permeating the air. Aislinn flashed back to a memory of being a little girl and driving down into Ballycraig with her da to pick up fish and chips for the family at Dooney's, the local chippie. She remembered the feel of holding the meals wrapped in newspapers on her lap, the intoxicating smell of it. the fun of unwrapping the dinners at the table and drenching the fish in malt vinegar, licking salt off her fingers, everyone chattering and laughing. Such a small memory, yet so powerful.
Straight Up Page 13