Chapter 25
There should have been a natural ending to the day.
An expected ending even. But it’s so sunny we stay longer than we mean to, and by the time we get back to his apartment it’s dark and I’m tired and hungry and a little sunburned.
Luke picks up Chinese food for dinner, which we eat on his couch, and even though it’s technically only eleven p.m. both of us are tired and at least one of us is bloated from said Chinese food, so we settle silently for making out on his bed until we fall asleep, fully clothed.
A routine begins.
It’s a strange one.
I leave early on Sunday before Beth arrives because that feels rude and return that night for more kissing and talking and touching.
Just no sex. Even though we’ve both made it clear that’s where we want this, whatever it is, to go.
And it’s not that we don’t get close. Various clothing items are removed, bodies moderately explored, but there always comes a moment when we both stop.
As if taking the final step means either ending what we have or having another more serious conversation that neither of us is ready for.
It continues the Monday and Tuesday night and it’s only on Wednesday when we’re drinking coffee downstairs when Beth asks Luke how the studying is going that I realize he hasn’t touched a book in days. Furious with myself, I stay away, ignoring his protests that he’s basically done it all anyway.
“You’re so close to the finishing line,” I tell him as he drops me back to the house. “And I’m distracting you.”
“It’s a very nice distraction.”
I agree. But a distraction nonetheless. I stay away that night and the two after that and by then it’s the weekend and I haven’t seen him in two days and I’m going out of my goddamn mind.
“You look skittish.”
“What?” I glance at Rory who’s watching me suspiciously.
“Like a cat,” he says. “A skittish cat. Are you on drugs?”
“No.”
“If you’re on drugs, you’ve got to share with the whole class.”
“I’m not on the drugs. It’s the solstice. I’m reflecting on my Celtic ancestors.”
“Who all definitely took drugs. And I thought you marked the sunset on the winter solstice,” he adds grumpily. “Not the summer.”
I gaze out at the hundred or so people gathered around the edge of the village. “I think you mark the sunset when the rest of the country marks the sunrise and you can’t compete with them.”
“But the tourists are confused.”
They are. I watch Andrew try to herd a family of increasingly skeptical Americans over to the designated prime viewing spot (the back of Dessie’s truck).
But he’s done his best. Fairy lights and ribbons hang from the trees bordering the western side of the village and the local trad band plays the old favorites as we wait for the ceremony to start.
It’s a perfect day for a solstice party, for any party, the sky clear and a hazy soft yellow as the sun begins to set.
We’ve never celebrated the solstice before. Another one of Andrew’s grand plans for the village. But as money-grabbing schemes go, this one has a nice aesthetic at least.
“Guess what I got!” Sinead returns from her trip to the food stalls, balancing three mugs in her hands.
“If it’s poitín, I can’t drink it before eleven or I’ll need a nap,” Rory warns, taking one from her.
“It’s mead ,” she says as if she’s never heard of anything more wonderous. “They said they make it with local honey.”
Rory gives his a sniff. “And who is they exactly?”
“The man in the car.”
“The man in the… great.” He turns to me. “She’s going to make a wonderful mother one day.”
Sinead whacks him in the arm.
“I’m good,” I say as she offers me the third mug. “Thank you though.”
“Don’t worry,” Rory says. “I’m sure it was a very clean car.”
“He had a permit!” Sinead says loudly.
“You want to go to Pete’s after this?” Rory asks me. “Sean and Harry are coming. We’ll get the gang back together.”
“The gang?”
“I made us jackets. I texted Luke but he didn’t answer.”
“I think he’s studying,” I say casually. “He’s got those final exams coming up.”
Rory shakes his head as Sinead takes a long sip from her mug. “I couldn’t do it. I get tired just thinking about all the work he’s doing.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Sinead says. “We should throw him a party when he’s done. He needs a break.”
“He does,” Rory says, his attention elsewhere. “Abby, why is your sister berating that child?”
I follow his gaze to where Louise is indeed scolding what looks to be two teenagers over the plastic ring around their cans. “She’s working.”
“She better not let Andrew see her. He’s making everyone… shite, we made eye contact.” He turns abruptly to Sinead. “Pretend we’re having a really interesting conversation.”
“With you?”
I snort as Rory just blinks at her. “Mead makes you cruel. I want you to know that.”
“Rory. Sinead.” Louise stands before us. “Abby.”
“Sister.”
“Happy solstice. Would you like to buy a ticket to the Irish Oceans Charity Raffle?”
“What’s the prize?” Sinead asks as Rory shakes his head.
“The continued protection of our marine life.”
“And is there like a restaurant voucher with that or—”
“No,” Rory says. “We’re not entering. I am already somehow both a monthly and an annual donor. You’re not getting me tonight.”
“But I love raffles.” Sinead pouts.
He ignores her. “Abby, please take your sister out of here and away from my impressionable wife.”
“No problem.” I tow Louise by the arm farther into the crowd, ignoring her scowl.
“I really think you should hire someone else to do your fundraising,” I tell her.
“And shouldn’t you be resting?” She started getting heartburn in the last few days, which according to our mother meant the baby would have a “thick head of hair.”
“I’m pregnant, Abby. Not invalid. Are you in or out tonight?”
“Out, I think. Rory’s invited me to Pete’s.”
“Good. Tomasz and I are having sex.”
“But you’re already—”
She turns to me, ready for a fight. “Are you actually about to say ‘but you’re already pregnant’?”
I hesitate. “No?”
Thankfully before I can get myself into even more trouble, Andrew strides past us, directing another group of tourists toward the front.
“Ladies,” he greets, a wide, fake smile on his face. “Are we having a good time?”
“I think you’ve got a rogue mead operator,” I tell him.
“What?” He looks, distracted, at Louise. “What are those?”
“Raffle tickets. It’s for charity,” she adds when he starts to protest.
“Anyone selling anything needs to have a permit. Charity or not. You need to give five euro to Maggie at the desk.” He points a stern finger toward the back where Maggie sits, drinking her own cup of mead. “ Now , young lady,” he says when Louise doesn’t move.
“Fine,” she says. “But I’m increasing your monthly donation.”
“And what are you up to?” he asks me when she’s gone.
“Nothing! I’m with you, I hate charity.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Excuse me?”
We both turn as a man in brown slacks and a blue button-down shirt approaches, smiling pleasantly at us.
“Are you in charge?” he asks. “I’m looking for an Andrew O’Donoghue.”
Andrew is instantly suspicious. “And you are?”
“Cormac Whelan.” He smiles. “I’m performing the ceremony for today.”
“ You’re the Druid?”
“We’ve got a Druid?” I ask, excited.
“To plant the oak tree,” Andrew says.
“I didn’t know that was a solstice thing.”
He ignores me. “I thought you’d have a robe.”
“We have no formal uniform,” Cormac explains. “In fact, we encourage all our members to wear what they feel is—”
“Yes, yes, fine,” he interrupts, clearly disappointed. “I’ll need to sign you in. Health and safety. Do you have a… staff?”
“He’s not a wizard, Andrew.”
“It’s fine,” Cormac says. “We get that a lot. I’ll just go get my things.”
“Yes. Great, off you go.” Andrew sighs, irritable, as Cormac the Druid heads to his car.
“You should have hired the guy you got to play the Easter bunny,” I say.
He shoots me an exasperated look. “I thought you were just visiting.”
“I’m staying a little longer.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’d like to start seeing you at our Tidy Towns committee meeting. I need everyone in this village to pull their weight this year. Those good-for-nothings in Knockshannon think that just because—”
“Andrew?” I interrupt, nodding toward the street. “I think your Druid is parked illegally.”
“What? Oh, for the love of— you can’t park there!” he calls, hurrying after him. “The buses need to turn! They need to turn !”
I reach for my phone to take a picture of them only to yelp as familiar hands land heavy on my hips.
“There you are.”
I twist around, Luke’s arms sliding with me until he’s almost embracing me. His hair is already growing back from his recent cut, but he shaved earlier, his face smooth and tanned from the summer sun.
“You look like you’re in an advert for orange juice,” I tell him.
“Excuse me?”
“Fresh white shirt, smiling healthy man. Orange juice.”
“You say like it an accusation.”
“Or laundry detergent.”
He laughs, pulling me closer. “I think you look nice too.”
“Yeah?” I glance down at my yellow sundress. I even wore my black strappy heels for the occasion. “I’m the sun.”
“You’re perfect.”
“And you’re supposed to be studying,” I say.
“My brain is fried. I spent twenty minutes looking for a book before I found it in the fridge. Did I miss the party?”
“The Druid’s just about to plant the tree.”
“The Druid?”
“Andrew hired a Druid. He drives a Honda. He does not wear a cloak.”
“See? Who needs big-city lights?”
“They don’t know what they’re missing.” I hesitate as he smiles down at me. “Luke—”
“No,” he says. “I can’t. I’ve barely seen you in days and I need a break. At least let’s watch a movie. Beth’s in Connemara for her cousin’s birthday. It’s just us.”
I waiver, looking back to the party, but the idea of spending more time with him is too strong. It’s only been forty-eight hours but it might as well have been months with how much I miss him already.
“Okay,” I say. “If you’re sure you don’t have to study.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then let’s watch a movie.”
He grins and I step back, suddenly a little shy.
“I better tell Rory,” I say. “I was supposed to go to the pub with him. I’ll meet you at the apartment?”
“Okay.”
“And stop looking so smug.”
“Never,” he quips, and lopes off toward the café.
I find Rory with Sinead, standing where the tree is to be planted.
“Isn’t nature amazing?” Sinead asks when I join them. “This is so exciting. I love the solstice.”
“She’s drunk,” Rory says, patting her on the shoulder.
I give her a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass on tonight. Luke and I are going to hang out.”
His brows rise. “Hang out?”
“We’re going to watch a movie.”
“Aha!” Sinead beams at me before turning to her husband. “I win! Gimme.”
“We had a bet on whether you two were secretly hooking up,” Rory explains, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “I didn’t think he had the guts.”
“And I am very good at this game,” Sinead says triumphantly.
“Ten euro,” Rory says, handing her a crumpled note. “From our joint account .”
“The important thing is that you lost.”
“It’s just a movie,” I protest.
Rory huffs. “Sure. And will your clothes be on or off while you watch it?”
My mouth drops open. “That’s not… we’re just… I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Sinead takes another sip of mead. “When we first started dating, I went to Rory’s place thinking we were going to have sex and instead we watched Schindler’s List .”
“I’d never seen it!” he exclaims.
“I’m going now,” I say. “Enjoy the tree.”
“I better not have lost ten quid for nothing,” he calls, and I raise a finger to him as I head back into the crowd.