Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Finn pulled the door open to Doherty’s Café and stepped over the threshold. Clinking silverware and idle chatter surrounded him at once, and the scent of onions, chicken, and tea reached his nose in welcoming waves.
Sidling past full tables and sidestepping waitresses with hands full of soup bowls and plates of bread, he made his way to the back counter. A small bell rested on the wooden countertop, and above it, a large sign read, “Order Here for Takeaway”.
He didn’t have to wait at the empty counter for long as Mrs. Doherty emerged from within the kitchens moments after he rang the service bell.
Her eyes met his, and she paused, popping her hands on her hips. “There’s me big lad,” she said, pulling in her chin with a broad, welcoming grin. Her hair was pulled back in a soft bun, though strands of gray fell down around her wrinkled features. “I thought you were away without seein’ me.”
“I’d never miss the chance of seein’ you, Mrs. Doherty, you know that,” Finn returned, and it was the truth.
Typically, he’d spend the duration of this stop at the café, chatting and visiting with the woman. But he’d been distracted by someone else today .
“You mean you’d not miss the chance of eatin’ some of me food,” she corrected.
“That, too.”
She laughed, walking toward him and giving both cheeks a quick peck. “Lovely to see you, Finny Boy.”
It wasn’t just anyone he allowed to use such a nickname on him—his ma being the only other soul on earth—but with Mrs. Doherty being a friend of the O’Meara family since before he was even born, Finn had a soft spot for the woman.
She pulled back, securing her pinny with the strings behind her. She didn’t do much of the actual cooking anymore, preferring to chat with customers instead, so the fabric was mostly clean. Still, all of the recipes served at the café were her own creations. He figured she wore the pinny as more of a uniform than anything.
“Right,” she said, “the usual, then?”
Finn nodded. “Unless you’ve got a cheesy beano back there,” he said.
“A cheesy beano, he says,” she muttered under her breath. “Catch yourself on.” She rolled her eyes, though her playful smile remained. “I’ve a mind to keep me soup to meself now.”
“Naw, you like receivin’ praise too much to keep your food to yourself.”
She scoffed, swatting him on his arm. “The cheek on you, lad. How does your ma handle you?”
“By sendin’ me on bus tours.”
She laughed, then began backing up toward the kitchen. “One bowl or two, then?”
“Best make it two today. And two baps, please. I’m so starved, I could eat the decorations off a hearse, like.”
Finn loved taking tourists around his country, but sometimes, the constant need to simplify his accent was exhausting. What he really loved was speaking with his friends and family because only then could he allow his tongue to be fully free.
“Any afters?” Mrs. Doherty asked next .
“Oh, aye. Nothin’ better than your chocolate fudge cake.”
“Ach, you have a heart o’ corn, lad. But I’ll not tell your ma you said that.” She gave him a smile, then waved a hand over her shoulder as she turned around. “Be right back.”
And with that, she disappeared into the kitchens, ducking out of the way of two more servers with plates of food for the hungry patrons.
Finn smiled to himself, turning to face the café as he leaned against the counter with an elbow. He swept his gaze across the room with a happy sigh.
It really was one of his favorite places to be—certainly his favorite café in which to eat. That was, in part, due to the home-away-from-home feeling Mrs. Doherty had effectively captured with the décor and atmosphere.
Broad windows at the back of the café poured cool light throughout the space, brightening the cozy surroundings of the dark yellow walls and red, textured ceiling. Gold and brown frames covered one side of the café, showcasing various photographs and paintings of Mrs. Doherty’s ancestors, while the other walls held framed blackboards with menus written in yellow, blue, and white chalk.
The place was filled to bursting. Dozens of circular tables filled the space, each yellow and red cushioned chair occupied by countless guests—most of whom he recognized from his bus already.
The middle-aged couple from Germany he’d spoken with before, the Sch?fers, were enjoying their food in the center of the café, and the family with the teens from the States, the Taylors, were situated near the menus, the parents trying to coerce their kids off their phones.
He was glad they’d taken his suggestion to try out the café, but he felt badly for how crowded it was.
If only the weather had held up, they all could have eaten out on the terrace, which was his favorite place to enjoy the soup. The view from there was stunning .
He peered out the back windows, the image of the sea all-encompassing as the rainclouds shifted the water to a misty, grayish blue.
Instead of the sea capturing his attention for long as it usually did, his eyes shifted to inside the café again, catching sight of that lavender dress and blonde hair that had flashed by him on the bus earlier that morning.
That same lavender dress and blonde hair that had occupied his mind for hours now.
This woman, this Maisie King…she was absolutely charming. Even now, as she sat in the far corner of the café, her chin propped on her hand, she stared out at the view with a hidden smile on her pink lips.
All he wanted to do in that moment was leave his vegetable soup and baps behind to speak with her again—and that was saying something.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to speak to a girl instead of eating food. But that just went to show what an absolute delight she had been today. From teasing him and taking his teasing, to chatting together without a single awkward silence from her. He had loved every minute of it.
He’d been disappointed to not walk back with her from the falls, but he figured it was probably best to pay attention to some of the other guests for a time.
He needed to get that bonus Joshua had promised.
As a waitress arrived at Maisie’s table, delivering her food off the tray, Finn smiled.
Vegetable soup and a Belfast bap.
She’d taken his advice, then.
He watched her unabashedly for a moment, Maisie clearly unaware of his eyes on her as she stared down at the soup of broth, barley, spuds, and other veggies. She leaned forward, holding her long locks back and taking an extended whiff of the soup, steam curling up from the piping food and swirling around the tip of her nose .
Her eyes closed, and a smile stretched widely across her lips.
He expected her to take a spoonful then, but instead, she rummaged through her bag, pulled out a small pink notebook and pen, then began scribbling across the paper.
Finn narrowed his eyes, his amusement growing.
Was she…taking notes on the food she was eating?
A few moments later, she took a spoonful of the soup, once again closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. Finally, with a solid nod, she swallowed and visibly sighed before reaching for her notebook again.
Finn shook his head with delight. The woman was so wonderfully odd. Wearing white shoes in the mud. Stuffing her face full of a bacon butty. Taking notes on her food. He couldn’t wait to see what else she did over the next two weeks.
“Right, here you are,” Mrs. Doherty said, emerging from the kitchens again.
Reluctantly, Finn tore his eyes away from Maisie as Mrs. Doherty reached over the counter and handed him a large bag of takeout containers.
“Two soups and baps,” she said, “and I threw in a few wee slices of cake, too.”
“You are a saint, Mrs. Doherty,” he said, accepting the bag with a grateful smile.
He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Mrs. Doherty shook her head. “Ach, it’s on the house today. You’ve brought in enough business for us to more than cover it.”
But Finn refused. “Naw, I’m good for it.”
As he paid, Mrs. Doherty motioned to the patrons of the café. “It’s heavin’ in here today. How’ve the group been so far?”
“Already better than the melters before,” he replied. “They’re good craic.”
Especially one of them.
His eyes again shot to Maisie, who still held her waves of hair behind her at her shoulder as she leaned forward, blowing cooling breaths into the soup. The action accentuated her high cheekbones and the pretty angle of her jawline.
“And…” Mrs. Doherty began, fortunately unaware of Finn staring at one of her customers, “how’s your da doin’?”
The lovely image of Maisie taking another spoonful of the soup and writing more words down in her notebook faded away, overshadowed by Mrs. Doherty’s question.
He’d known this was coming. Finn couldn’t avoid the conversation any longer.
He turned back to face the woman with as much of a pleasant smile as he could. “He’s farin’ fine.”
“Any luck at all with him findin’ another job?”
“Aye, some luck. He’s interviewed with two companies that seem eager to hire him, so Da’s hopeful.”
Da being the keyword. Finn didn’t want to start worrying, but things were coming down to the wire now. It had been six long months since Da had been made redundant from his job of thirty-five years—and six long months since Da had been relying on Finn to help with housing payments.
Money had been tight for the O’Mearas before the job loss, what with Ma’s parents living there with no funds or pension of their own to contribute, so Da had been forced to rely on Finn.
Course, Finn was more than happy to help. Even if that meant draining his life savings and falling behind on the rent for his own flat. But Da didn’t need to know that. The man had given everything to his family for years—it was time for Finn to return the favor.
The bonus that year would help him keep his flat—as would the pittance he’d receive from playing with his band when he was off this coming weekend—and his job would help his family keep their home. Just so long as he continued to make good decisions, he’d be completely fine.
Unfortunately, Finn didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to making intelligent choices. His whole life was evidence of that .
Anyway, he didn’t need to worry. He would get that bonus. He had to.
His eyes flicked to Maisie again, who was still focused intently on her meal. He’d never seen someone look so fondly at food before, studying it as one would study a rare flower or a sunset on the sea.
“Does your Ma need anythin’?” Mrs. Doherty asked, heaving his attention back to the conversation at hand.
“She’s grand,” Finn said with a shake of his head. “Doin’ everythin’ for everyone.”
“Ach, ‘course she is.” She looked over her shoulder as a clang sounded from the kitchens. “I’d best get back there. Give me love to your folks. And let me know if I can ever help any of you.”
Finn nodded, thanked her again for the food, then made his way out of the café. Worries about the future pinged about his mind like errant flies, but he shooed them aside as he glanced at Maisie again.
He tried to catch her eye, hoping to receive a wave or elicit a smile from her, but she was too focused on her food to notice anything else.
He couldn’t blame her. Mrs. Doherty’s soup was grand.
Anyway, it was just as well she hadn’t seen him. He needed to keep his wits about him. There was one other tour guide beside him who was up for the bonus at Nirbt. Finn had received it his first and second year there, but last year, after leaving the Luxembourg couple at the causeway, Finn had lost the bonus to Thomas—the most boring man on earth. Although, apparently, Thomas was filled with a wealth of knowledge everyone—aside from Finn—loved.
This year, according to Joshua, Thomas had received the same number of glowing reviews as Finn. With Thomas’s final tour of the summer wrapped up, it all came down to Finn’s behavior over these next two weeks.
He wasn’t too concerned about it. Well, he was trying not to be. Really, all he needed to do was be his usual, charming self and pay attention to each individual passenger—instead of focusing too intently on catching the eye of a stunning, food-loving, white-shoe-wearing American.
Even if that’s the only thing he did want to do.