Chapter 2
2
Liam froze as his eyes took in the familiar face, staring back at him in shock and burning hatred.
“Oh, for the love of the fairies and the Sweet Jesus and his Mother Mary,” Liam thought to himself … Maeve Quinn.
Funny that his favorite and very Irish Granny’s favorite phase to explain anything unexpected would pop into his thoughts this very second. She was a genuine believer in all Irish Mythology since she was a young girl, repeatedly telling her children and grandchildren to follow each tales wisdom and teaching. The biggest and most important myth that many of the Irish to this day still believed in with religious fervor was to never cross the fairies, especially by hurting one they felt was under their protection.
“Trust me my boy; they’ll always find ways to take their revenge on you when you least expect it, and of course with the respectable permission from the good Lord himself.”
This belief and that statement had been repeated to Lian after she heard of his broken engagement with his high school and college sweetheart, Maeve. Granny McCann believed emphatically that men who possessed this level of stupidity to toss aside such a strong and solicitous partner, a perfect Irish Rose in her book, and guarded by the fairies themselves, deserved their retribution.
“Liam,” President Burns’ voice cut above the other voices in the room, who were still greeting him as he slowly made his way to the conference table to sit down. His legs felt like lead, as he reached for the only chair available to him to steady the jerking motion traveling through his body; he was pretty sure everyone noticed. The only chair available was directly in front of Maeve.
So much for using avoidance in this situation.
“I would like to introduce you to the Down GAA Fundraising and Events subcommittee chair, Maeve Quinn.”
Rising, Liam leaned across the table, extending his hand in a gesture of greeting towards Maeve.
“A pleasure.”
Her thin sweet smile laced with venom reaching into her eyes drilled into him her distinct hatred of not only his physical being but his soul. Watching her closely, Liam noted she used her thumb and fingertips to grasp his extended hand with barely any contact. The touch communicated her scorn, while projecting a silent opinion of him and a certain repulsion that she had to make any physical contact with him.
Did he really expect her to greet him otherwise after these years? Maybe, despite that, it was her simple frost-laced reply that stung him more than her actions.
“Ah, the famous Mr. McCann.”
Her greeting was callous to his ears; knowing he deserved it. He had been labeled the initiator in destroying their engagement without a worthwhile explanation of what she’d heard the night of his graduation party. Just claiming he’d had too much to drink, or that his teammates had set him up, wasn’t never going to be enough of an apology for being such an eejit.
Still, before he could even explain his actions, or find an opportunity to apologize, she just disappeared from his life–not a return phone call or meeting up with their mutual friends. You would have thought that they had never crossed paths, or, for that matter, had dated on and off since secondary school for five years. Liam knew she left for America soon after things ended to continue her education–and now here she was sitting in front of him, making him very aware she wanted nothing to do with him.
“Thank you again, Liam, for joining us. We have a lot of ground to cover concerning the last steps we need to complete our promotional events. I predict a great deal of positive publicity for both Gaelic sports and Ireland’s future Olympic teams. Do you agree?”
“Of course, President Burns, whatever you need from Team Ireland, we are all in.”
“Great to hear. It isn’t every day we can stand united in making Gaelic sports an integral part of the Olympic movement. Now, Aisling, why don’t you give us an update of where we stand, and Maeve, please add anything you feel will help in coordinating this first event with Down GAA. It’s a brilliant idea to use the upcoming Warrenpoint festival to kick things off.” Burns chuckled as his own joke. “Of course, no pun intended, and I, right?”
Liam continued watching Maeve, rolling her eyes at the poor joke attempt that was now dissipating around the table as Aisling’s droned on with her presentation. In between asking his own questions and potential concerns any participant volunteering might face, he continued listening as Maeve interjected her own inquiries. His unexpected presence was making her feel uncomfortable when she glanced up suddenly, catching him observing her closely.
A tight smile wandering across her face, clashed slightly with her words as she tried to stay professional and not give away to anyone in the room that they knew each other. Liam shifted in this chair slightly, causing a squeak of wheels to vibrate through the room as his nervous energy found its footing.
Maeve unexpectedly swung her head in his direction, never missing a beat as she spoke.
Their sudden eye contact gave Liam a quick second to communicate hopefully his own wordless reply, showing that he, too, was sharing in the same suffering of seeing each other again. Instead, a scathing look of invisibility greeted him, causing all the muscles in his abdomen to contract with a surprise gut punch. Maeve continued to speak, no one even knowing the can of worm-infested history their actions had opened with calling this meeting.
Lost in thought, Liam was jolted to attention by Aisling voice.
“Liam? You agree? Arrange to meet with Maeve ASAP and visit with the Mourne and Down District Council to discuss the appearances at the parade and meeting the players game event before the Sunday morning game at Pairc Esler GAA Stadium.
“Sure. No problem,” Liam smiled to the room, congratulating himself on a quick recovery.
“Lovely!” Aisling commented. “I think we all have our matching orders now, so let’s get cracking. There’s a lot of moving parts and people to coordinate in a very limited time. Time will fly by.”
As Maeve was saying her goodbye to everyone in the meeting, Liam caught her glancing briefly at him before turning to hurry out of the conference room. He didn’t want to miss an opportunity to speak with her alone, if he could get her to just spare him a minute. Guessing from her tone and demeanor during the meeting, she was thinking this unexpected encounter was a set-up on his part–which it wasn’t.
They needed to arrange a meeting on neutral territory to clear the air --- working together in some form of compromise. He still needed to ask and understand why she had just disappeared the night after his graduation party. They had a huge misunderstanding, and he never had the chance to apologize and make things right after discovering the terrible situation they had both been fooled into.
But today, seeing her again it hit him hard … he had never stopped loving her, and he was quite sure he never would.
Thinking quickly on his feet, Liam made an effort to follow Maeve, but Aisling interrupted him in mid-stride.
“Liam, can I ask a big favor of you?”
“Damn it!” Liam mumbled to himself, trying to think of a way to extract himself from chit-chat so he could hurry and catch Maeve before she left. He convinced himself to take a brief second to hear what Aisling was cornering him on at the last minute.
“Sure, but can we make this quick? I have a meeting at the Olympic Team offices.” Liam glanced at his watch. “The meeting starts in about 40 minutes, and I’m not sure how traffic will be across town to make it.”
“No problem. I just need you to help set up some time with our social media team. Could you call Mary Beth Healy’s office? She’s the scheduling coordinator for this project, and needs to go over some potential dates that you and other team members are available to pose for photos, taping videos, etcetera to use on our social media channels?”
“Brilliant idea. I can call her, and I will also mention it to the coaching staff. They can contact her as well. I hate to rush, but I really need to make this meeting. Are we done here?”
“Sure. Thank you. I’ll call you later and don’t forget to connect with Maeve about the Wake the Giant Festival.”
“Dead on–bye.”
Moving toward the elevators and quickening his pace, Liam watched Maeve just up ahead, standing in front of a set of elevator doors just opening. Quickening his stride, he shouted out her name, but was too late as the doors closed her off from him.
“Bollocks!”
As he searched for an alternative route to catch her, he came across another elevator that opened its doors to let off passengers. Stepping on it, he hit the button for the parking level, saying a small prayer to his Granny’s fairies that he would catch her in time before she left the parking garage.
The elevator stopped at the first parking level; the doors opening. Liam leaned out to see if Maeve had got off. As his eyes darted around, he held the elevator’s door open, peering around the corner. He caught sight of her, walking down the center aisle, fumbling with her car keys.
“Maeve!”
Stopping, Maeve turned around to see who was shouting for her. Noticing it was Liam, he watched her hesitate, her eyes darting around for what he guessed was for a quick escape exit. Facing in his direction, she waited for him to catch up to her. Her chest rose and fell with hesitancy, while pulling her tote bag tighter on her shoulder–looking up towards the parking garage ceiling, Liam could see every detail of the emotions ricocheting through her.
“What do you want?”
Stopping in front of Maeve, Liam gulped, wiping his palms in a quick sweeping motion to dry the perspiration covering them. Meeting Maeve’s eyes, his lips moved to speak, but nothing came out. Avoiding his embarrassment, he shifted his gaze to his feet before glancing back up one more time, before his words finally left his mouth.
“Please Maeve. I had no advanced warning we would be working together. Hell, I didn’t know until three days ago that I was being asked to work with this promotion.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient …”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Maeve continued standing silently.
“Can I make a suggestion? We need to work together–can we just call a truce? Despite our past and our feelings, and as much as I would love to clear the air about what happened between us, I know I’d be speaking to deaf ears. Maybe we can find a comfortable balance to get through this. Who knows, maybe we can be friends again.”
Maeve began chewing on her bottom lip with deliberation as she continued staring at him. The trundles in her brain were moving, making a mental list of pros and cons, straining to figuring out the best way to conquer something unpleasant. Lian could hear the loud ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any second, just before he let out the breath, he didn’t realize he was holding, as Maeve finally spoke.
“Tell me … do you really think that is a such a good idea? Are you looking for some form of forgiveness or redemption? Because right now, I need to wrap my head around this situation before I say or do something that will cost me my job.”
Stepping back slightly, Liam leaned back in towards her to reply.
“Please Maeve. Can we take a beat? I want to make things up to you, if you will let me. I know you’re hurt, and I am hurt too. The last six years have been a living hell for me, as I suspect it has been for you. Let’s just get through this situation for now, who knows – maybe it will help us find the closure we need. Truce?”
Liam thought he might be imagining it, but he saw a single tear slipping from the corner of Maeve’s right eye, as both eyes filled with unshed tears, trying to follow the single escapee. Gulping back a hiccup and shaking her head, she mumbled her answer, turning to continue her escape to her car.
“Whatever. Let’s plough on.”