Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Finn’s humor at the situation dissipated, melting away at the warmth of Maisie’s voice.
Most stragglers chose an upbeat song, missed half the lyrics, sang unrecognizable notes, and screeched louder and more off-tune than Bob’s brakes. Finn had fully expected Maisie to do the same, and he’d been ready to laugh along with her before he’d rescue her after a line or two—like he did with everyone he made sing on his bus.
But when Maisie’s voice rang out clear, soft, and unassuming, he gave an astounded shake of his head and clamped his mouth shut. This was just characteristic of Maisie, wasn’t it? Confident, willing to do anything, able to show up in every single way, whether it was walking in the rain, joining a bus tour alone, bike riding, or singing in front of a group of strangers on a bus.
She was just remarkable. At times, her singing was too slow for the music, and her notes rang out slightly pitchy every now and again, but Maisie corrected it each time, her performance enhanced because of the imperfections.
As he drove them to their next destination, the green fields opening up before them and the sea behind them, the skies still hanging low with heavy clouds, something else occurred inside of him that he hadn’t expected.
His smile was wiped away, and a solemn emotion overcame him, cradling him in comfort and peace.
He’d sung this song nearly every weekend with his mates in Belfast—the lyrics filled with grief of leaving one’s home behind—but never had it affected him in this way before. He felt the music take him away from his current strife, reminding him that there was more to life than work and stress, reminding him of how good his life really was.
Every now and again, he glanced at her in the rearview mirror, her eyes glued to the sheet music, hair falling over her shoulders in thick, blonde waves, and his breath was snatched away.
By the time she finished, Finn had to remind himself where he was going, having been driving on autopilot since she’d begun.
At the last note, Maisie turned off the intercom and handed it back to Finn, the bus cheering at her performance.
It took everything in his power not to turn around right then and look at her gorgeous, no-doubt humble expression.
“I think we’ll be invitin’ Miss King to do that again,” he said into the intercom, “what do you all say to that?”
A few cheers of agreement sounded behind him, but Maisie was quick to respond, too.
“Nope!” she shouted.
The passengers laughed, and when he caught Maisie’s gaze in the mirror, a lightness floated in his chest that carried his focus away with it.
For the short journey left between Ballycastle and the Dark Hedges, Finn took over the rest of the entertainment, sharing more about the history of the upcoming site and what to expect when they got there, even though his mind remained on Maisie.
When they did finally arrive, he forced himself to focus on the other passengers, moving from person-to-person and offering to take their photos in front of the spectacular site.
The Dark Hedges, appropriately named for the half-mile-long avenue of beech trees hanging over each side of the black-paved street, was certainly a sight to behold. Even though he’d been there countless times before, the view of the two-hundred-and-fifty-year-old trees down the avenue always left a lasting impression on his mind.
Ma loved this place, too. When he’d first started working for Northern Irish Roving Bus Tours, she had often met him there, bringing along meals in containers and sweets in bags for him to munch on during his long days of driving.
“Best keep yourself fed, Finny Boy,” she’d always say. “No good’ll come from drivin’ on an empty stomach.”
She’d always looked out for him. While most parents expressed love for their children, Ma showed it. She’d always poured a hundred and ten percent of her support toward him—whether that was when he’d left Eton or when he’d told her that he was going to be a tour guide. She bragged about him constantly to anyone who’d listen.
Even still, Finn couldn’t help but fear that deep down inside, his parents were both hiding their disappointment for how their only child’s life had turned out. They’d held such lofty hopes for him—Eton, on to uni, possibly becoming a lawyer or a business owner. Could they really be proud of him for becoming a bus driver? Or was that why he was pushing so hard to help Da with his finances—because Finn had to prove that he had value—and brought value—to those he loved?
His phone vibrated in his pocket. With his passengers occupied around him and his thoughts in desperate need of distraction, he pulled it out and swiftly read through the texts sent by his friends earlier.
Cedric
Just like I said. He still hasn’t responded.
Matthew
There’s no way he was serious.
Graham
I don’t know. He might be. Maybe he’s met someone on his tour.
Matthew
Leave it to Finn to find someone he can’t have.
Finn blew out a half-sigh, half-scoff. His friends had no idea how spot-on they were.
Matthew
Who else thinks he was referring to his Granny now?
Cedric
Me.
Graham
Yeah, that’s probably the best bet now.
The timestamps showed a few hours having passed by before the next messages came in.
Cedric
Who’s ready to hop on the next flight to Belfast to see who this girl is?
My treat.
Matthew
I’ll take you up on that offer. The worst part of all this is knowing Finn’s enjoying himself, making us wait.
Graham
No doubt.
A few more messages were sent of even more guesses about what Finn had been speaking of before, and he smiled to himself in amusement before finally typing out his own response.
Finn
Sorry, lads. Got caught up working, unlike the rest of you wee lazy gits.
Obviously, he was just poking fun. Matthew worked harder than anyone as a knight for his medieval festival on his family’s estate. Cedric was a footballer who pushed his body to its physical limits daily. And Graham, well, Graham was a skydiving instructor, white water rafting guide, bagpiper, and highland games forerunner, just to name a few.
Still, Finn couldn’t resist a little jab at them now and then.
Finn
To finally answer your questions, I have found a girl, but Matthew’s right. I can’t have her. I will say, if I ever did choose to settle down, it’d be with someone like this one.
Cedric
Wait, you’re being serious? Why not go for her, mate?
Finn
I can’t.
Cedric
Why not? I thought Finn O’Meara was the hottest commodity in Northern Ireland.
Finn
Oh, I am. Believe me. But she’s on me tour. So hands off, it is.
Matthew
Graham called it.
Graham
I did! I’m usually right about these things, though.
Matthew
So why don’t you go for her?
Cedric
Yeah, rules never stopped you before. *cough* Eton *cough*
Finn’s smile lessened, but only to a degree. He knew his mates were only joking. They didn’t know how sore of a subject Eton was for him, so he could easily let that go.
Finn
You’re right. Rules are for the birds. But I have to keep this job to help me da out. Otherwise, you can bet that I’d be asking her out yesterday.
Matthew
All right, tell us about her, then.
Gladly.
Finn
Funny enough, she was the straggler I was waiting for at the beginning of the tour. And she’s from the States.
Matthew
Aaaaahhhhhhh I see.
Cedric
What is with you lads and American women?
Matthew
You won’t know until you try one for yourself, Ced. They have a way of latching on and never letting go.
Cedric
I’ll stick to my English and Welsh roses, thank you. They’re far less rowdy.
Graham
If you think those “roses” who follow you around are less rowdy than Americans, you’re dreaming, mate. They’re called fanatics for a reason.
Cedric
Well, if they’re rowdy for me, I can’t blame them.
Finn huffed out a laugh. He could only imagine Cedric’s confident smile as he typed out his texts. The footballer always seemed to have a gaggle of women following after him. And his friends still had the nerve to call Finn the philanderer and rule-breaker.
Although, with the way Finn had been flirting with Maisie, maybe the nicknames weren’t too far off.
Matthew
So when do we get to meet this LOVELY American? (I wouldn’t blame you if you kept her away from the prejudiced Cedric.)
Cedric
I love Americans like I love physiotherapy—when neither are painful to be around.
Finn
Sorry, boyos, but you’re never going to meet her.
Graham
You mean we don’t even get a peek at her?
Finn
Naw.
Cedric
Can’t you at least sneak a picture of her? Send it over to us ?
Finn laughed at the back of his throat at the suggestion. Aye, that wouldn’t be creepy at all.
His eyes found their way to Maisie as she stepped over a reflective puddle at the edge of the avenue. Her gaze was focused upward on the shadowy branches of the trees reaching heavenward with craggily arms.
He hadn’t been lying. His friends would never meet her. What was the point in showing off a woman who wasn’t his? Anyway, with his family as his priority, he had to stick to the rules this time. Unless he found a way to work around those rules that didn’t put them at risk, he and Maisie would remain solely as driver and passenger.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t talk to her.
So, ignoring his friends’ messages once again, he slipped his phone into his pocket and headed toward Maisie.