Chapter 29
“How’s your moping?” Tomasz lingers in the doorway of my bedroom the next day, eating an apple. “Going well? It looks like you’re really getting the hang of it.”
“Shouldn’t you be grocery shopping?” I mutter, scrolling through my phone. “It’s on the chore wheel.”
“I’m going now. Do you want me to drop you to the village?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Louise said if you don’t leave the house, she’s going to tell your parents about Tyler coming.”
I roll over to look at him fully. “She wouldn’t.”
Tomasz only shrugs.
She would.
I push myself off the bed. I’ve been in a mood ever since Tyler showed up.
I couldn’t even bring myself to go to lunch with Pat and Susan, though, from what Louise said, Luke didn’t show up either.
He hasn’t messaged me. I mean, I haven’t messaged him either but, the way things ended yesterday, the ball is firmly in his court.
Tyler messaged twice. He got my Irish number from Louise (there was some yelling about that) and he gave me his hotel details and a plea to talk to him, privately. I don’t plan on replying. My plan instead is to lie low for a few days until he leaves and hope everything magically sorts itself out.
But hoping this will be an excuse to see Luke, I grab a ride with Tomasz into the village, and head to the café, where Ollie is getting ready to leave for the day.
She sees me standing outside dawdling, but instead of just ignoring me like she usually does, she gestures halfheartedly toward the door, which for her is the equivalent to waving me inside with open arms.
“I’m just on my way out,” she tells me when I enter. “Beth’s sorting the recycling out back. Luke’s not here. Heard your ex came to visit.”
I pause. “He did.”
“Awkward.”
“Tell me about it.”
She almost looks impressed. “So you’ve got two people after you now?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that,” I say but she’s already grinning at me.
“That’s cool,” she says, grabbing her bag. “Hey, you should know that I’m leaving soon. I got into a creative writing program at UCD.”
“You’re a writer?” I ask, surprised.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“I think this is the first time you’ve actually spoken to me.”
“Huh.” She frowns. “Well. Beth will be in in a minute.”
“Okay. Hey, Ollie?” I hesitate as she turns at the door. “You write… poems?”
“Novels.”
“Oh.” I think back to all the times she stood by the counter, typing into her phone. “You’re not writing about me, are you?”
“Not unless you live three thousand years in the future on an alien planet about to be destroyed.”
“No.”
“Then no.” She smiles. “See you around, Abby.”
She leaves just as a noise behind me draws me to the door and a moment later, Beth emerges, blowing her fringe from her face.
“Oh, hi!” she says with her usual enthusiasm. “Since when do they make cardboard boxes so sturdy? I had to jump on it to get it to fit. Ollie gone?”
“Just now.” I glance around what used to be the yoga studio but where Beth has since moved the bookshelves to so she can have more seating up front. Or maybe they’re just shelves now considering all the books are piled on the floor. “What happened?”
“I tried to dust,” Beth sighs, gazing down at the stacks.
“Then I thought it might be nice to sort them by order of color. Maybe a rainbow for pride month? But then we had way too many blue and pink covers and not enough yellow and no greens, so I gave up and started putting them back. And then I got tired and now I just have books on the floor. What can I get you?”
“A latte if you have one,” I say, taking out my purse.
“Put that away! It’s on the…” She trails off when I glare at her. “Right,” she mumbles. “I need to get better at not doing that.”
I take a seat at the bench as she makes me one, humming to herself.
“Beth?”
“Abby?”
I didn’t intend to tell her, but the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I got the job.”
Her head snaps up. “The one you interviewed for?” Her mouth drops open when I nod. “That’s wonderful! Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know. No,” I amend quickly. “That’s a lie. I do know. I’m taking it. I have to. There’s nothing for me here and it’s the best opportunity I’m going to get. Maybe ever. I’d be stupid not to.”
“Well, do you have to tell them straight away?” She smiles when I shake my head. “Then why worry about it right now? It’s okay to be conflicted.”
“I’m not sure I should be this conflicted.”
“You don’t want it?”
“I do want it!” I falter, trying to explain my thoughts. Trying to explain when I don’t even know myself. “But what if I don’t and I just don’t know it yet?” I sigh. “I’m not making any sense.”
Beth rounds the counter and takes a seat opposite me, crossing her arms on the table. It’s a few seconds before she speaks. “Did I ever tell you my younger brother has a doctorate in physics?”
“No,” I say, surprised.
“I’m not joking. He lectures in Munich and he’s married with two kids.
Meanwhile I’m a failed farm girlfriend and a soon-to-be failed business owner.
So believe me, I know what it feels like to worry about what you’re doing with your life.
I have no idea if I’ve made the right choices.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve made a lot of wrong ones.
But that’s okay. That’s life. And if I did make any mistakes, at least they were mine. What does your gut tell you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Your gut always knows. That’s the rule of the gut.”
I straighten, blowing out a breath. “To go,” I say, even as my chest tightens with the words. “Things are different now. Clonard is different. My family is…” I shake my head. “But I still need to go. I want to go.”
“It’s not like we’re living in the past,” she says gently. “You don’t have to wait weeks for a postcard. You can come back and visit whenever you want to.”
“It still won’t be the same.”
“No,” she says. “But it doesn’t have to be forever either.” She reaches for my hand, holding it tightly between hers. “I’ll miss you a lot. But I’d much rather miss you while knowing you’re doing right by you, than have you here, always thinking about what could have been.”
“I’m going to miss you too,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper and she squeezes my hand.
“And don’t forget, I still need an excuse to visit New York.”
“It’s not actually in New York,” I say as she gets up to hand me my coffee. My other piece of news. “It’s in Toronto.”
“Oh.” Her face falls momentarily before she musters up a smile. “Is Toronto fun?”
“I think so.”
“And they’ve got that big tower there, right?” She reaches over the counter to grab a cloth. “I love big towers.”
“They do.”
“Then we’re definitely going up it when I come and visit. Plus a new city will be good for you! No bad memories. It will be like a fresh start.” She pauses, an odd expression crossing her face. “Your friend’s still in New York though, right?”
“Jess? Yeah, she’s born and raised. She’ll be mad about the move but it’s better than being over here.”
Beth nods, cleaning the glass case with admirable focus.
Almost too much focus.
No way.
“She seemed really taken with this place,” I continue casually. “If you want to visit. I’m sure she’d love to have you. She keeps asking about you.”
Her hand moves faster, polishing and polishing. “She does?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I guess you could give her my email or something. If she wanted to chat.”
“Sure, if you’d like.”
She shrugs, abandoning the glass to start wiping down the trays but she barely lasts five seconds before turning back around.
“So what did she say about me?” she asks, and I laugh.
It’s late evening by the time I get back. The car is in the driveway, meaning Tomasz is home from grocery shopping, but the house is quiet when I let myself in. I find Louise in the kitchen, looking over blueprints of what looks to be the hotel, a coffee cup in her hands.
“It’s decaf,” she says, when I sit opposite her.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But other people will. I’m going to spend nine months with people judging me every time I so much as look at a bottle of wine.”
“Mam definitely drank when she was pregnant with us.”
“Yeah, and look how you turned out.”
“Oh, you’re so funny.” I take a sip from her mug, glancing at the prints. “You’re not planning on becoming an ecoterrorist, are you? Where did you even get these?”
“Ned got them.”
“And where did Ned get them?”
She shrugs, suddenly innocent, and I roll my eyes. “Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you won’t get arrested again,” I warn as she turns a new page of her notebook. “I got the job.”
Her eyes flick up. “You did?”
“They want me in Toronto.”
“Toronto,” she repeats softly. “Wow.” She hesitates, tracing a circle with her pen. “I thought maybe…”
I wait, nervous, but she doesn’t continue.
“Did you tell Luke?” she asks instead. She doesn’t ask me if I’m going to take it or not. She doesn't need to.
“I will tomorrow. I want to tell him in person.”
“When will you need to move?”
“I don’t know. Soon probably. It’s not like I have notice to give.” I pause. “I might come home for Christmas though. See the baby.”
“I think we could manage that.”
“And maybe you guys could come over and see me? Or I could come back and—”
“Abby,” she interrupts. “We’re only a flight away. We’ll figure it out. We’ll do it right this time.”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “Okay.”
She smiles at me. “Do you want to celebrate?”
“Not yet.” I say. “But are you doing anything tonight?”
“No. Why?”
I watch as she makes a small x on one of the pages. “I need a favor.”