Chapter One ~ Fiona #3
I’ve known Mila Bartek since the day I started working for On the Go Travels.
We went through training together and were lucky enough to end up living in the same company-owned house with three other tour guides.
Even though we’re rarely all there at the same time since our tours range anywhere from day trips to weeks-long excursions, Mila and I have always been close.
We’ve co-hosted several larger tours together over the years, and when we’re in different cities or countries, we’re always texting and video chatting, sharing stories of our adventures or misadventures, and giving each other tips about the cities we’ve visited.
With a tired sigh, I snuggle close to Mila. She makes soft, reassuring sounds while rubbing my back. I haven’t shed a single tear since my cold shower sober-up yesterday, and the fact I don’t cry now makes me think I truly am all cried out.
“I hate to ask this, but did you consider playing the sympathy card?” Mila asks as she releases me and eases back in her chair.
“It occurred to me,” I admit. After years of devotion and passion for the job, not to mention my impeccable record, I honestly thought there was no way I’d get more than a slap on the wrist. How two consenting adults spend their personal time shouldn’t be anyone’s business, but my bosses maintained that some people get the wrong impression, or form attachments or even grudges, all of which can reflect badly on the company.
When they handed down the verdict of my suspension, my first thought had been to blurt, ‘But my dad just died, you can’t take this job away from me too!’ I’d swallowed the words, though. Emotional manipulation is more Sanjay’s style than mine.
“What’re you going to do?” Mila asks. “Will you be able to stay in the house?”
Shit. I hadn’t even thought of that. “I was so shocked and upset at the hearing, I didn’t think to ask, and they didn’t bring it up.
” I have money in savings if I need to move out, but I love that house and the quiet, tree-lined street we live on.
“I’ll contact someone tomorrow and see what they expect me to do for the next two months. ”
Mila waves dismissively, as if she can’t believe I’d ever think I had to do this on my own. “I’ll handle it for you. And if they say you need to vacate your room, you can stay in my room for a bit. It’s not like we haven’t bunked together before.”
This is true. The first trip we ever co-hosted was a week-long camping trip across the Highlands of Scotland.
We’ve shared hotel and hostel rooms since, but nothing has ever compared to sharing a cramped tent for a week.
Talk about getting to know someone intimately.
In a situation like that, you either end up the best of friends or wanting to kill each other.
While we had moments where we snapped at one another, we ended up closer than ever.
Not a day goes by that I don’t thank my lucky stars to have a friend like Mila. “You’re the best.”
“I know.” She grins, her dark eyes sparkling. I can’t help but smile weakly in return. “I’ll book your flight home too. Is tomorrow too soon?”
I sigh again. “No, I should go as soon as possible. My mum will be surrounded by people, but I need to be with her. I already feel like the shittiest daughter alive for not going as soon as I got the news about Dad.”
Mila makes a sympathetic noise. “What if…” She trails off, and I wait for her to continue, eyebrows lifting in anticipation with each passing second. “What if you stay in Honeywell Hollow for a bit after the funeral? I’m sure Mae would love having you around.”
Stay in Honeywell Hollow? The thought makes my skin feel too tight.
Being there without my dad, even for a few days, will be torture.
We were always so close; when he got sick, I told him I’d take time off and return to my hometown, but he forbade it.
He actually used those words: “I forbid it, Fiona Mae Murphy.”
With a terminal cancer diagnosis last year, we all knew Dad wouldn’t get better, but I thought he was doing okay.
I thought we had more time. We talked every day, either via phone call, video chat, text, or email.
My parents promised that if they saw the end coming, they’d tell me so I could be there to spend time with Dad and say a proper goodbye.
I’d recently been toying with the idea of surprising him with a short trip home before the busy season kicked off, or even seeing if he was well enough to travel to Ireland to stay in the cottage he owned, even if it meant hiring a medical team to accompany us.
Now, instead of a few days in my childhood home listening to Dad’s stories, watching him work in his study, and sipping Jameson as we swap travel tales, I’ll be listening for his laugh, expecting him to enter the room at any moment, and feeling his absence every single second.
But as difficult as it will be for me, it’ll be a million times worse for my mum.
She and my dad were married for nearly forty years, and have lived in the same house since before I was born.
I always struggled with considering Honeywell Hollow my home, but it’s always been exactly that to them.
My dad was a pillar of the community, and his death will be felt by the entire town.
I doubt this dense, suffocating feeling of guilt and grief will dissipate any time soon, but maybe being there for my mum will help.
I’m sure she’d be relieved and comforted to have me at home for a while…
even if there are others who likely wish I’d never step foot in town ever again.
One person in particular comes to mind. Someone with a deep voice, work-roughened hands, and piercing blue-grey eyes that always spoke volumes, even when he didn’t say a word.
I shake those thoughts and return my attention to Mila. “Could you book me a plane ticket with a flexible return date?”
Despite Mila’s answering smile, I can’t help but notice the sadness in her eyes.
“Of course.” She pats my hand where it rests on the table.
“Everything is going to be okay, Fiona. It might not seem that way now or even for a while, but you’re one of the strongest, most resilient people I know. You’re going to get through this.”
I know she’s right, but at this moment, it’s hard to truly get my heart and mind to believe that anything will ever be okay again.