by Mari Carr
“You have to open up your heart to her, Paddy. Don’t be afraid to let yourself fall in love with her if that’s where it’s heading. You’ve spent most of your adult life looking for the perfect relationship, something like what your mom and dad have. And I’ve gotta give you props. You’re always giving it the college try. But proposing to this woman because it’s on her bucket list and she’s dying is fucking cheating. She doesn’t deserve that. Of course, I think you already know that. It’s why you’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“You always go for the jugular.” There was no heat behind his words…because she was right. And he appreciated the fact she cared enough to always tell him the truths he didn’t want to hear.
“Yeah, well, you’ve left me bleeding a few times too. And as much as it pains me to admit it, you were always right to give me the jab.”
“She doesn’t call it her bucket list. She thinks of it as a list of regrets, of things she’ll never accomplish.”
“And that’s eating your inner Boy Scout alive. You’re a giver, Paddy. You always have been. But life is a pretty solid yin and yang. Light and darkness. Love and hate. Satisfaction and regret. You can’t cure her, but you can be her friend. You can help her through the next few months, even if that means you only help her achieve some of the things on her list.”
“What if I do fall in love with her?”
He hadn’t meant to ask that question, to give that idea a voice. But the more time he spent with Mia, the more he started to believe he was in definite danger of falling for her.
“Then you’ll tie the knot. And I’ll be there with bells on.”
He grinned, finding the opening he needed to return them to normal. “Damn, Kell. Bells could be a bit loud.”
“Tell you what. If you, my dearest and oldest—though somewhat dim-witted—best friend since second grade, fall for this woman, I’ll perform the ceremony.”
Padraig chuckled, the sound feeling downright rusty. “Kelli—”
“You pretty much have to let me. Since you insist on giving Colm the gig of best man, it’s either he and I engage in a fight to the death, or you let me be the officiant. I kind of like the idea of coming up with your vows for you. Speaks to the power-hungry bitch inside me.”
“It’s a deal.”
“Excellent. Okay, I’m off. Gotta work the book fair at the library tonight.”
Try as he may, Padraig always struggled to picture his best friend as a kindergarten teacher. It wasn’t that she wasn’t great with kids. She was. But more often than not, the Kelli he saw was showing off her tattoos in tight tank tops, cussing like a sailor and kicking his ass at flip cup.
“And for future reference, if you’re hoping to avoid me, the surest way to fail at that is to ignore my phone calls.”
He saluted. “So noted.”
Kelli started toward the door, but it took her a full ten minutes to leave the pub because she stopped at no less than three tables to talk.
There was obviously a reason why she was his best friend. She could always cheer him up.
He filled a few more drink orders, then called in one of the part-time bartenders. Pretty soon, if he kept skipping out on shifts, he was going to owe everyone in the pub favors.
Once his replacement arrived, he headed over to Sunday’s Side. His parents were enjoying a quiet dinner together. He grabbed the seat across the booth from them.
“Where are you headed off to?” his dad asked. “Who’s manning the bar?”
“Called Joel in to work. I’m going to pop over to Mia’s to check on her. I wanted to talk to you about the schedule, Dad.”
“Okay.”
“I’d like to take some time off.”
His mother smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “I think that’s a good idea, Paddy. You started working at the pub in high school, and while Colm has taken some vacations, traveled and seen a bit of the world, you never really have. It’s a good time to widen your borders, see how others live.”
He nodded, glad his mom was so supportive. “Mia wants to see Paris. And Harry Potter World.”
Tris laughed. “I can see Mia wanting to visit Paris, but are you sure Harry Potter was her idea?”
Padraig grinned. “I’m not going to pretend that part of the trip will be a hardship. You know how much I love theme parks and roller coasters. Add in a trip to Hogwarts and I’ll be in hog heaven.”
“Take the time, son. It’ll be good for Mia and you.”
Padraig stood, thanking his dad. Before he made it two steps from the table, his dad said, “I’m proud of you, Paddy.”
Padraig nodded, choking down yet another emotion. He was on a roll today. First anger, then amusement and now this. “Enjoy your dinner.”
He threw on his coat and headed for Mia’s apartment. She wasn’t expecting him, but even so, he didn’t text or call to warn her that he was on his way.
He was afraid to. Afraid she’d succumbed to the same depression that had swallowed her the past weekend and she’d tell him not to come. He was finding it harder and harder to stay away, to leave her alone for any amount of time at all.
When he stood outside her door, he paused, surprised by the sound of music. Listening closely, he was certain he could hear her singing along. He smiled as he listened to her belting out Adele. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was about that woman’s songs that made most women he knew stop everything and fly into Whitney Houston mode, singing like their lives depended on it.
He knocked.
Mia obviously hadn’t given in to depression again. She was in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. “Hey, Padraig. What are you doing here? I thought you had work.”
He glanced over her shoulder. She was clearly spring-cleaning. The vacuum was out and every piece of furniture was gleaming.
“Expecting company?” That was pretty much the only reason he and his cousins ever went into this kind of deep-cleaning mode.
“No. My grandma used to call this nesting. Woke up this morning and thought I’d better take some time to get my shit together.” She walked over to the coffee table and picked up a notepad. “I’ve been making a list of things I need to take care of. I don’t have a will, which isn’t really a big deal considering I don’t own anything. But I need to figure out funeral arrangements and stuff like that.”
Her tone as she spoke about planning her own funeral was too matter-of-fact. He’d heard people talk about the weather with more emotion. It didn’t help that hearing her mention wills and funerals made him want to throw up.
Padraig took the notepad away from her and flipped the page. “I’m glad you’re in the mood to make plans, because that’s why I’m here.”
She narrowed her eyes. He hadn’t brought up his intention to tackle her bucket list since Monday night, but it was clear she hadn’t forgotten. Or changed her mind. “Padraig, I don’t think—”
“You have a laptop?”
She nodded.
“Good. Grab it. Time to do some research. Book a couple flights.”
“Padraig. What about Brooke? How is she going to feel about you running off with some other woman to a foreign country?”
He lifted one shoulder casually. “I called her Saturday. Told her I couldn’t see her anymore.”
She gasped. “Call her back! You like her. There’s no way I’d screw that up for you.”
“No. I’m not calling her back. She was fine, Mia. The two of us weren’t serious. She hadn’t met my family, and to be perfectly honest, I hadn’t even gotten past second base.”
“Which base is second again?”
He laughed but ignored her question, getting straight to the heart of things. “I haven’t taken a real vacation since high school graduation, and before that, it was just trips to the river, beach, or amusement parks with my folks and brother. So really, when you think about it, I’m doing this as much for me as you.”
“Do you have
a passport?”
He nodded. “Got one a year or so ago. Colm and I have this pipe dream that one day we’ll take Pop Pop back to Ireland.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Yeah. We’d really like to see where he grew up. Not sure it’ll ever happen, but I wanted to have my passport just in case.”
She didn’t move to grab the laptop, and he realized he’d made an assumption about something she hadn’t mentioned yet.
“If you want to stay here and start the chemo, Mia, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not doing that.”
She had said as much yesterday. He understood her reasoning, but her hesitance made him wonder if she’d reconsidered. Dr. Richards had suggested a very powerful dose of chemotherapy, one that would certainly make her sick. One that would cause her hair to fall out. And in the end, Dr. Richards said it would only buy her months, not years.
Mia insisted quality won out over quantity.
“Will you be able to take some time off to travel? I know you’re in a new position.”
Mia’s eyes got misty as she nodded. “I called Phyllis last night and explained what was happening. I wasn’t sure what to do about work. She told me to take some time off to get my affairs in order. She wouldn’t let me quit because she said she’s not about to leave me without health insurance.”
“I like Phyllis.”
Mia smiled. “Me too.”
“If you’re hesitating because of money—” He had some, and Aunt Teagan called him from New York on Tuesday morning to assure him that she and Sky would pay for Paris if he and Mia didn’t have enough. At the time, he’d been amused by how quickly word had spread in his family, still riding the “she’s not really dying” high. Now he was determined to make sure nothing stood in their way.
“I’m not,” she said. “I inherited some money from my grandma, and one of the benefits of having very little social life includes the ability to stash away money from my paycheck each month.”
“We’re taking the trip, Mia.”
He expected her to continue to resist, but when she sat down and pulled her laptop out of its case, he hooted.
Her funeral list was forgotten as they spent the next four hours planning her dream trips to Florida and France.
6
April 17
* * *
Padraig pulled up a stool next to his Pop Pop at the bar. It was a rare occasion when he could sit on this side of the counter with his grandfather. He lifted his pint glass and tapped it against the older man’s.
“Great party,” Padraig said, aware that he’d be wise to follow this pint with a glass of water if he stood a chance at feeling okay tomorrow. He didn’t relish the idea of flying to Florida hungover.
“It is indeed,” Pop Pop said, looking over his shoulder toward Mia on the dance floor.
Padraig followed his line of vision and grinned. Mia was probably past the point of feeling well in the morning—water or not. But it was obvious she felt fine now, and Padraig figured that was more important.
The past two weeks had been a roller coaster of emotions. The visit to the specialist had yielded the expected outcome, his prognosis matching that of Dr. Richards’.
Mia had actually taken that news better than Padraig. She sat through the visit stoically and remained quiet on the drive home. She had asked for some time alone and Padraig had granted it.
Then he’d headed straight to the Collins Dorm and punched a hole in the living room wall.
Since then, they’d both distracted themselves with work and vacation plans, not mentioning her illness at all.
Padraig had promised to treat her as he did Kelli, to act as if they’d been friends forever, but the more time he spent with Mia, the more he found that pretense unnecessary. Their friendship came easily, naturally. He was able to say things to her he’d never told anyone else, and she’d confided she felt the same.
He had actually spent the last few nights kicking himself for not starting some more meaningful conversations with her earlier. She’d been sitting at the end of his bar for months, and he’d failed to see how cool she was.
Pop Pop continued to watch the girls on the dance floor. “Mia looks like she’s having a good time.”
Padraig chuckled. “I’m worried my cousins are being a bad influence on her.”
“No. I get the feeling Mia hasn’t had much experience with cutting loose and having a good time. The girls are just showing her the way.”
His grandfather made a good point. Yvonne and Sunnie had grabbed Mia’s hands the second she’d arrived for their bon voyage party, taking control of her fun for the evening. The three of them, plus Kelli, had kept up a pretty intense routine of tequila shots followed by frenetic dancing.
The party had been Riley’s idea, and unsurprisingly the rest of the family had been on board. They’d closed the pub down for the night, decorated the area behind the bar with a huge Bon Voyage sign, made a pile of food and a cake shaped like the Eiffel Tower, and even managed to get Sky and Teagan back in town for the evening to perform.
Padraig had kept their attendance at the party a secret, wanting to surprise Mia, whose eyes had nearly popped out of her head when she saw them onstage. She’d gone adorably shy when he had taken her over to introduce her to them.
Mia’s cheeks were flushed from the exertion of dancing and she was grinning from ear to ear. She’d never looked prettier, more alive.
“She does look like she’s having fun,” Padraig said, his eyes widening as Mia started twerking. He laughed loudly. “Jesus. What’s that?”
Pop Pop didn’t bother to look. He gaze was locked on Padraig as he patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve always said when a Collins man falls, he falls fast and hard.”
Padraig gave his grandfather a quizzical look, then realized Pop Pop was referring to him and Mia.
“Oh no,” he said quickly. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends, Pop Pop.”
“Mmmhmm,” Pop Pop hummed, clearly not convinced. “What about the marriage proposal you were hell bent on issuing a couple weeks ago?”
Padraig sighed, suddenly regretting the way he’d just blurted that intention out to his whole family. In truth, he hadn’t mentioned the idea of marrying Mia since his talk with Kelli. He’d always been too impetuous, and the morning after Mia’s revelation, he’d been too keyed up on emotions and caffeine and lack of sleep to think it through clearly. Kelli had helped him see the error of his ways.
“I, uh…well…”
“You won’t marry her if you’re not in love with her.”
He nodded slowly. “It was pointed out to me that my initial plan was based on a knee-jerk reaction to some pretty powerful emotions, coupled with my,” he rolled his eyes, “Boy Scout nature.”
Pop Pop laughed. “Who got to you first? Colm or Kelli?”
“Kelli,” he admitted begrudgingly.
Pop Pop slapped him on the shoulder. “She’s still gunning for best woman at your wedding, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“She gave you good advice. Of course, I’m fairly certain the outcome will remain the same.”
Padraig frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re still going to marry that girl.”
“But I just said I’m not going to marry her without love.”
Pop Pop gave him that endearing, annoying smile that always told Padraig he was thick as a brick. “And I said, when a Collins falls, he falls fast and hard. You’re no exception, son.”
“I’ve only really known her three weeks.”
“You think she’s pretty though, don’t you?”
Padraig looked across the bar, grinning at Mia’s almost tangible joy. She and Yvonne were singing along to “Pretty Woman,” using beer bottles as microphones. “She’s beautiful.”
“And sweet?”
“The sweetest girl I’ve met in a long time. She’s funny too, but she doesn’t rea
lize it. Like I’ll make a joke and she’ll laugh and it’ll catch her off guard, so she covers her mouth like—”
Padraig looked back just in time to catch Pop Pop’s eye roll.
“Pop Pop. I’m not in love with her.”
“I believe you. I also think you should end that proclamation with a ‘yet.’ You’re not in love with her yet. But you’re definitely seeing her. And something tells me she’s never really experienced that. The beauty of being seen.”
“I’m not sure I understand—”
“Love opens a person’s eyes. Allows them to see things others might have missed. I think you’ve skirted around with love in the past, felt genuine affection for some of your old girlfriends.”
“If that’s true, why am I not married to one of them?”
“You weren’t ready. Maybe your eyes were open, but your heart wasn’t quite there. Or your heart was engaged, but hers wasn’t. There are lots of reasons why love doesn’t stick.”
“And you think Mia’s going to be the one to stick?” Padraig liked that idea more than he cared to admit.
“Only you can answer that, my boy. But I can tell you this—she sees you too. I’ve been watching her, and I guarantee you not a full five minutes has passed since she’s arrived where she hasn’t taken a moment to stop, look around, and find you.”
Padraig didn’t bother to hide the smile that little tidbit provoked. “Really?” he asked, looking behind him.
Sure enough, this time Mia was looking at him too. She gave him a goofy grin and a wave.
“Teagan’s just caught sight of you,” Pop Pop said after a minute or so. “I suspect…” He paused, then raised his hand to stop Padraig speaking. “Yep. There it is. A slow song. Go ask your gal to dance.”
Padraig didn’t bother with the pretense of resisting the suggestion. Pop Pop knew him too well, knew he wanted this dance.
He stood up and grasped Mia’s hand, just as she was leaving the dance floor to return to her table for more tequila.
“Dance with me.”
She smiled and stepped into his arms, and Padraig realized his grandfather was right.