Chapter Sixteen
Juniper
“Where the heck are you?”
“Side street,” I say. “Cute, right?”
“Yes, I’m loving this. Very cottagecore. Virtual tour, please.”
I hold up my phone to show Lissie the parts of Ballygrá that have become regular sights for me this past week—a white church that can’t be bigger than Aidan’s house, the town’s library with colorful lettering on the side, and a pastel bed-and-breakfast. I thought going on a walk would give me the chance to show my friend around town and tell her about the last few days. And also to get my thoughts straight after that earth-shattering kiss.
I can’t stop thinking about it. It was one kiss, but no one has ever kissed me like that before—gentle and kind and without distraction. He looked at me like I was heaven and earth combined, and his hand was touching me so reverently that it almost felt wrong to wash that part of my face.
“Alright, your turn. Give me some much-needed New York.”
“Same old, same old over here. Manspreaders galore on the park benches. Someone feeding the squirrels.” Lis flips her phone’s camera around to show me what is unmistakably Union Square. She points toward a sea of people and vendor tents. “The farmers market is super busy, and I’ll probably stop in and spend half of my paycheck on some more of that organic honey.”
“Worth it.”
“Those bucket drummers are here somewhere, too. Oh! I didn’t tell you.” She flips the phone back to her face, fringy bangs popping out from under her knit hat. “I got a callback.”
“What! The one with the boots?”
“The one with the boots.” Lis and I break out in a happy dance, an act that instantly brings me closer to home and closer to her. I don’t know if I miss New York or if I just miss familiarity and being in a place where life’s less complicated.
After Lis tells me about the scene the casting director has requested her to prepare, she asks about me. I’ve sent some texts, but I haven’t told her about my conversation with Evvie. Or the kiss.
“You made out with him?” Her voice climbs an octave. “Why didn’t you lead with that? Oh my goodness, tell me everything .”
“We were at a castle,” I say, and Lis lets out a squeal. I shouldn’t be as excited about this as I am. “An actual, honest-to-god castle. It was like a scene from a movie.”
“Is he a good kisser?”
“He is…” I sigh. “He is an exceptional kisser.”
The memory of his lips on mine sends my heartbeat through the roof and stirs desire low in my body. All from a kiss. I’m afraid of what I’ll be tempted to do the next time I run into him alone at his house. Getting tangled up with Cara’s best friend would muddle an already murky situation, though. Aidan reminded me how complicated something between us would be. I only wish he’d waited to remind me after we let things go a little further.
“So you made out and…” She waits for me to fill in the blank. “Tell me more.”
“Nothing more to tell,” I say, ignoring my disappointment at not having anything juicier to share.
“June!” Lis loves the drama, so this must be killing her. She paces down the sidewalk, providing me with shaky, nausea-inducing video. “If a strapping young Irishman takes you to a castle to kiss you, it should not lead to nothing.”
“He didn’t bring me there to kiss me.” I roll my eyes, wishing I didn’t have to point to the fine details that put a stop to us making out. “We happened to kiss, then he mentioned something about me being Cara’s sister, and—”
“Weird.”
“I freaked out.”
She’s my closest friend. And your sister. Aidan’s words reiterate why I need to maintain a distance from him.
“When I’m with Aidan, I forget why getting involved with him in any way is a bad idea, or why I’m here in the first place,” I go on. “For Cara and the article. Nowhere in the plan did I leave space for an Aidan. I’ve hid in my room almost all day to avoid him.”
“Are you safe?”
“Oh, yes. He’s kind and gentle and completely unlike the guys I’m normally attracted to. I’m just…embarrassed. We didn’t just kiss, we kissed .”
“That sounds great.”
“It’s not great, it’s awful.”
“Oh, I get it.” Lis’s mouth quirks up, and she wags a finger at me. “You like him. Oh my goodness—”
“Stop.”
“You do! Aw, you haven’t had a legitimate crush on someone in years.”
“I do not have a crush on him.”
“You can be honest with me.”
“I am. Zero crushes here.”
“This all makes so much sense. You would have jumped his bones if he were some rando, but you really like this guy, so of course you’re looking for any reason to push him away.”
“Fine,” I say, lowering my voice. “I like him.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I like Aidan. A smile tugs at my mouth because really liking someone—really liking Aidan—fills my body with a fizzy sensation. My hastiness in demanding we leave yesterday squashes some of that fizziness, though. He must think I don’t like him like that, and I probably scared him off, going all hot and cold on him. For all I know, he’s avoided me today as much as I’ve avoided him.
“You should let him know how you feel.”
“You’re such a romantic.” I try and fail to keep a neutral face while she grins at me. “I’m not going to tell him.”
“You must. He likes you back.”
“He—” I don’t like how Lis is pointing this out, because it only reminds me of everything after the kiss—the quiet car ride, the avoiding eye contact like the plague. “In case you’ve forgotten,” I say, willing my brain to stop thinking about Aidan, “I have other things going on.”
I sit on the corner of a dilapidated roadside bench. Lis lets me talk, nodding her head as I tell her about what happened with Evvie, the new test at the DNA lab, and the results that will make this trip all worth it or a total waste. She paces up and down one of the pathways in the park, taking in every bit of information.
“So her mom wants you to lie until the wedding.” Lis says. “You’re okay with that?”
“It’s more of a not-telling-the-whole-truth kind of situation.”
My best friend chucks a doubtful look my way, and I wither under her disapproval.
“I know,” I go on, “it’s not much better. But Cara’s juggling a billion things between the ceremony and her new restaurant. And she’s so…” I can’t quite explain how Cara’s friends tore her heart out by ditching her, and how she acts like I’ve mended her back up. Telling her about what happened at the lab, as inconclusive as it all is, would devastate her. “We don’t want to ruin the precious final days before the main event, and maybe for no reason.”
“True.” Lis removes her hat and lets her hair wave around in the wind. “But like, you’re gonna be in this woman’s wedding photos.”
“I’ve already asked Evvie to talk to the photographer. She’s arranging a round of formal pictures with every combination of family, so there will be plenty without me.” I’ll appear in some of them, but at least I can’t single-handedly ruin all of her memories of the wedding. “There’s no perfect choice here, and her mom is putting Cara first. That’s a good thing, right? That Cara’s mom is on my side?”
“Sure.” She breaks eye contact and scratches a spot along her jawline—the dead giveaway that she’s lying. “Better than her not being on your side.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“I didn’t call so you could bullshit me.”
“I would never bullshit you,” she hisses. Lis is a grown woman who I have only heard curse a handful of times, so she must mean business. “I’m trying to be gentle here because I…well, I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re lying.”
“If I find out the worst news possible, then I’ll tell her,” I insist. “It’s a matter of timing. Waiting and hearing from the lab.”
“I don’t mean that. You’re lying to yourself .”
This knocks the wind out of me, but I play off the shock by making a psh sound. “Ridiculous.”
“You’re getting close to these people in such a short time, and if you’re not careful, you’ll set yourself up for heartache.”
“I already told you, we kissed. Once. And yes, it was hot, but that’s it. There’s nothing more going on between us.”
“I’m not just talking about Aidan here. I mean everyone. Cara, her parents, everybody.” Lis looks directly at the phone camera so her stare cuts right through me. “I love you, okay?” I shift in my seat, because I always get a little uncomfortable when she pulls out the L-word. Hearing it, saying it—it makes my brain break out in hives.
“You’ve been there a week, and you’re getting all swept up in this family,” she continues.
“I’m not.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re like a sister to me, and you’re usually so careful with your heart, so I’m looking out for you.”
My eyes sting. “I’m being careful, mother ,” I say with a playful jab to lighten the mood. My best friend’s expression tells me she’s not having it. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit I’ve gotten a little carried away.” Growing up, I kind of missed out on getting to experience a family. Real family. “But I can walk away from this anytime I’d like.”
If I have to, I can. I know I can.
“Okay,” she says, and we share a few moments of silence. She doesn’t believe me, I’m sure, but she’s made her case and doesn’t need to say anything more. “Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time. I love you so much.”
I let a few seconds pass.
“Say it.” She points at me through the phone.
“I love you too,” I whisper. She’s the only living person in the world I’ve ever uttered that phrase to, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to saying it.
“And I miss you like crazy, and the trip sounds like fun even if it’s kind of chaotic. But you coming back to New York with your heart ripped out would be the literal worst. You act all tough and have your guard up, but I see you. Secret softie.”
My abrupt laughter fills the empty street. “Don’t worry. I can handle it.”
After an hour and a half of tying twine with name tags to wooden tea light holders and a sprig of dried lavender, I can’t feel my fingertips. But the wedding favors look spectacular .
Cara’s parents invited everyone over to finish up some of the handmade decor for the reception, so their home looks like a craft-supply bomb exploded inside. We’re digging into DIY projects at the dining room table while Roger assembles some larger items behind the living room sofa. Yasmine and her family will arrive later, along with Aidan, and the prospect of being in the same room as him again has my stomach flip-flopping.
“Those are perfect,” Cara says, lifting a candle holder up like it’s made of gold. “I love them.”
Winnie raises his head to see what’s going on, and when he confirms no treats are involved, he returns to snoring by the china cabinet.
“They belong in a bridal magazine,” Evvie adds. She’s shown me lots of silent support tonight with tender pats on the shoulder and side-hugs. She knows I can only wait in a bizarre agony until my test results come through, so she’s treating me with extra care. The special attention is like bubble wrap around my heart.
“What’s next on the list?” I ask.
“Not too much in the way of crafts.” Cara’s pleased with herself, nodding in approval as she checks off one more item.
“I could use some help here,” Roger says. “Mostly finished, but I need another pair of hands to put it together.”
I head to the clear space behind the floral-patterned couch, where he’s working on a photo booth backdrop. The frame is made of PVC pipes, connected by fittings and reinforced with some heavy-duty glue. He shows me all the pieces yet to be assembled, and we get to work while Cara and her mom dig out supplies to finish the centerpieces.
“I’m guessing that an evening of manual labor wasn’t what you hoped for when you booked your trip here.”
“I don’t mind,” I say as I knock one of the longer pipes into place. When I catch Roger’s eyes, I give him a grin and decide to pull out some of the slang I’ve picked up. “It’s good craic.”
“That we are.” He barks a laugh. “I trust Danny’s showed you a pleasant time ’round town since you got here.”
“Yup.” I play it cool while my disloyal cheeks warm up.
“Good lad, he is. We lucked out that Cara’s friend for life is someone like him. Being her stepfather means I watched him grow up too.”
I guide the conversation away from Aidan, since I don’t know how much longer I can think about him or talk about him without kicking my feet like a schoolgirl. “Did you grow up in town?”
“No, Dublin. M’parents ran a cleaning business, and I went into finance. Consistent work, reliable, but nothing special about it. Then I had a stroke in my late thirties, and that was a wake-up call.” He holds his hand out for another piece of PVC pipe from me. “So I moved to Ballygrá on a whim. Met Evvie. Never looked back on the fast-paced city life, and it was the best decision I ever made.”
“Did you know anyone here?”
“Not a soul. Since I could hold a job, my life had been: wake up, go to work, drink, and sleep.” As he says this, I nod, relating a little too much. “So I thought to myself, Dublin’s not going anywhere. Why not do something different? Perhaps I’d end up back in the same place. Perhaps I’d meet the love of my life.”
Yasmine walks in the front door as Roger and I talk, three people trailing behind her—a couple about Evvie and Roger’s age and a man who shares the same facial features as Yasmine. She introduces me to her parents and brother, and they all make their rounds of hellos, giving everyone a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you so much for this,” she tells me. “No chance we could do this without you.”
“Alright, I’m here and ready to work.” Aidan shuts the door behind him, and my heart skips a few beats.
“Saved the best task for last,” Cara announces.
“Thank you for working so hard on this, babe.” Yasmine stands behind Cara, wrapping her long tan arms around Cara’s waist. “Oh, you really did, didn’t you?”
“Wanna get it over with?”
“No.” Yasmine groans. “But we need to.”
“Seating chart it is.”
“You’ve done that weeks ago, haven’t you?” Evvie asks.
“We did, but see.” Her daughter holds up a makeshift drawing of the reception and table arrangements. “We can’t seat the O’Sullivans and the Byrnes together. They’d murder each other after what happened at the farmers market last month. And over here, we’ve got Johnny and Marie at the same table, but they broke up last week.”
“How many times is that now?” Yasmine’s mother asks as she rolls her eyes.
“On-again, off-again,” Roger explains to me out of the side of his mouth.
“Alright, let’s do this.” Cara arranges some numbered sticky notes on the table, assigning Evvie and Yasmine’s family to different ones. “Rodg, we’ll need your help too, to make sure we don’t seat any mortal enemies near each other.”
“Backdrop’s assembled, so I’m happy to.” Roger walks under the archway dividing the living and dining rooms, stopping at the seat Cara’s in. “Aidan, can you help June with decorating it?”
My knees morph into cooked spaghetti noodles. After avoiding Aidan for the past twenty-four hours, I can’t escape him now.
And as much as I want to avoid him, I also don’t. He looks cool and collected, the same way he did when he led me through the crowded pub in Dublin, and when he stood on the stage to tell that story. He’s the complete opposite of how I feel inside, and his casual attitude only makes me want him more.
Aidan brings over a bag of long pieces of silk fabric and joins me by the PVC frame. “Looks good.”
“Thanks.” I know he’s talking about the backdrop, but my cheeks still get toasty. “The genius of Roger, who came up with the plans and construction. I’m just the assistant.”
This is the first time we’re seeing each other since yesterday, and I can’t catch my breath. We’re far enough from Cara and everyone else that we could have our own private conversation, but also, what could I say? Not sure about you, but my brain nearly imploded from that kiss. You know the one, right? The one I definitely haven’t been thinking about nonstop since I saw you.
“So how’s all of this”—I wave to the bag of fabrics and then the freshly assembled frame—“supposed to go on this?”
“Easy.” He takes one ribbon and ties it to the top of the backdrop, demonstrating how the delicate fabric should dangle and skim the floor. “It’ll look sharp on camera with the different colors. Oh, hey. Your favorite.” Aidan holds up a strip of woodland berry fabric and grins, and I’m pretty sure I turn the exact same shade.
“Can we talk?” I keep my voice low, although I doubt anyone else would catch our conversation. The discussion at the table hasn’t reached explosive status yet, but they’ve hit a few colorful disagreements on who should sit where. You’d think they were engaged in a high-stakes game of Risk .
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, keeping his attention on tying the silks. “You don’t need to explain yourself.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I shouldn’t have put you in a position like that. I’ve thought about yesterday all day. To assume that…” Genuine worry has stitched itself into Aidan’s brow.
“Aidan, you were a perfect gentleman.” I touch his forearm and I might combust. “Really.”
“Then…I don’t understand what happened. You asked to leave so quickly after.”
I think about the kiss, and my insides tug in opposite directions—what a perfect kiss and what terrible timing. “I got kind of in my head.”
“Was the kiss that awful?”
“No.” I laugh, loving how he knows what to say to take the tension out of a situation. “It definitely wasn’t that.”
“Good.” Aidan seems to light up knowing that I most certainly did not dislike our kiss. He gives me a lopsided grin, and damn him for being so handsome. “Then what—”
“You two!” Cara’s voice shocks me, and I let my hand fall from Aidan’s arm. Cara walks over to inspect our waterfall of fabric strips. “That looks fab! Love this.”
Aidan’s heated gaze lingers on me, but no one seems to notice. While I’d love to continue this conversation, we can’t. Not here, not now.
Everyone praises our work. They’ve sorted out the seating chart, and Cara ticks the last item on the list. All that’s left is to gather in the living room for a celebratory drink.
“Here you go, dear,” Evvie says as she scoots over on the couch to make room for me in between her and Roger. When I sit down, Roger puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes. Whatever just happened at that backdrop surrounds my night in a warm glow, and sitting between Cara’s parents grounds me in a space of safety and security.
“Thank you, everyone,” Cara says as she holds up her beer. “So glad to have all that done.”
“And thank you for the free labor,” Yasmine adds with a smirk, sneaking in a pet for Winnie.
Roger balks. “I’ll be on the lookout for my paycheck in the post, you two.”
Evvie reaches over me to playfully smack his thigh, and I snuggle into the comfort of it all—being surrounded by these wonderful people. We lounge and talk and drink and laugh, and I ignore the creeping concern that maybe my best friend is right. Maybe I am lying to myself most of all.