Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“That’s Wicklow,” he said. “Very beautiful. We are heading that direction, but not quite as far as the mountains.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland,” I said. I found myself opening up to Keegan, even though I didn’t mean to. “I had been planning a trip until recently, but things changed and I put everything on hold. That’s why I already had a passport. So to be going anywhere – other than Boston – is lovely.”
Keegan was looking at me intently as I spoke. I guess it was one of the longest times I had spoken to him about something other than work apart from that evening at the club that I wanted to forget but kept remembering.
“So,” he began. “Anywhere other than home is where you want to be?”
“Yes.”
“Whereas, home is where I want to be, and home is Ireland. Where I don’t have to remember to drive on the left or people – and beer – being cold.” He looked away and ran his hand through his hair.
“I can’t quite believe I’m here,” I said.
“Believe it!” he laughed. “But you won’t see much in just a few days. Dublin is a real tourist trap. It’s hard to see any of the real city. The further away you go, the more you see of the real country.”
He sounded so passionate, like he wanted to show it off to me, and I liked this new side of him. I realized just how much he was a fish out of water back in Boston. Here, even the way he moved had changed. He was relaxed, and it made me relax. I watched him drive, one arm leaning on the open window and sunglasses hiding his eyes. He had changed on the flight and was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I was glad I hadn’t worn my work clothes, opting instead for plain jeans and a light green T-shirt and sneakers. I longed to take my hair out of the tight roll and shake it loose. For a few moments, as I gazed out of the window, I imagined we were here together, on a road trip, just exploring, moving from place to place. Then I chased away the thought.
What was wrong with me? I had literally just texted Drew to say that I had arrived safely, hoped we could be friends when I got back, but felt like that was all we were meant to be. Now here I was fantasizing about being with someone else.
“In a minute, you will see the sea,” he said breaking into my thoughts.
“Already?” I asked, digging out the map that I had picked up at the airport.
He laughed. “Ireland is a tiny country; everything is nearby. If we kept driving, we would literally run out of Ireland to drive on before the sun went down.”
“I can see it!” I cried, realizing I sounded like an excited child and wasn’t doing my sophisticated and aloof Effie Hancock act anymore.
“We will be there soon. You sure you’re okay if I leave you?” he asked. “Bray is a nice place for a walk, and you’d be bored if I took you with me, but it’s up to you.”
“All I want is a walk, I will be fine,” I reassured him.
“Eh, have you euros?” he asked awkwardly.
“They won’t take dollars?” I asked innocently.
“Uh, no, no they won’t, but I will give you some…” he began, but I laughed and he realized I was teasing him.
“I will be fine,” I repeated. I had actually several hundred euros as I had been getting them for my now-postponed trip when the exchange rate was good.
He drove through the narrow streets and pulled into a parking space on a road that divided a row of little shops and cafés from a broad stony beach. We arranged to meet in three hours’ time, and I hopped eagerly out of the car and shouted goodbye, heading straight for the beach. As he drove off, I took off my shoes and socks, then made my way down, walking in the surf. It was the coldest water I had ever felt,
and I stood long enough to say that I had been in the Irish Sea, and then dashed back up the beach where I stretched out on the sand. Everyone had warned me of the constant rain, so I was pleasantly surprised to feel the heat of the late spring sun on my face.
I spent the afternoon wandering around the shops. Families wandering along the seafront carried paper cones filled with chunky french fries, so I stopped at a tiny fish and chips shop and treated myself to an enormous bag of piping hot ‘chips.’ The server there interrogated me about who I was, where I was from, and how long I was staying, before moving on to my family life, my job, and how many children I had. Back home, I would have been incredibly freaked out, but here, it seemed it was normal. I had the same experience in almost every shop, with people wishing me a happy trip, recommending things to eat or places to visit in Dublin, and even one lady promising to pray for me. The chips were possibly the most amazing thing I had ever tasted.