Paris Is Always a Good Idea - Jenn McKinlay Page 0,40
you found our fair Chelsea.”
I waved and Michael smiled, but his gaze darted to Colin with concern. I wondered what that was about.
“Aye, I did,” Colin called. He turned to me. “What can I bring you?”
“Whatever you’re having, or a pint of the black stuff is fine.”
“Guinness it is. I’ll be right back,” he said as he handed me into the booth, kissing me on the head as he did so. I thought it was a ridiculously sweet gesture, as if I was something rare and precious. There hadn’t been a lot of that in my life over the past few years, and it touched me.
He returned with a pint for each of us, but instead of sliding into the opposite side of the booth, he sat with me so we were side by side. He lifted his glass and held it up, waiting for me to do the same.
“There are good ships, there are wood ships, there are ships that sail the sea, but the best ships are friendships, and may they ever be,” he said. We clinked glasses.
“Sláinte,” I said. Then I took a fortifying gulp of beer.
“You remembered.” He looked pleased. “What other words that I taught you do you still know?”
“Not much. Dia dhuit,” I said. I was hesitant about my pronunciation of the greeting after all this time. “That’s about all I remember, honestly. Well, that and a few swears. For some reason those stuck with me.”
Colin laughed. It was a deep rumble that came up from his belly and made me laugh, too. “That’s about all you need, I expect.”
We were both silent, smiling at each other, taking in the subtle differences the years had made.
“I ordered fish-and-chips for us,” he said. “I remembered that was your favorite. I hope you haven’t gone vegetarian on me.”
“Well, actually,” I said. He looked alarmed, and I couldn’t keep up the pretense. I grinned. “I’m kidding. Fish-and-chips is still my favorite.”
Colin blew out a breath. His blue eyes when they met mine glinted with the same mischievous twinkle I remembered from our youth.
“You look amazing,” he said.
“You do, too. You haven’t aged a day, and you’re working for Mrs. O’Brien—I want to hear all about it,” I said. “Are you happy on the farm? Is life good?”
“ ’Tis grand,” he said. “Better than I ever expected it could be. I have so many blessings, which I’m dyin’ to tell you about, but you’re the visitor. I want to hear about you first.”
“I don’t know where to start,” I said. It was true. It felt as if a lifetime had passed during the last seven years.
Michael stopped by our table with two plates loaded with fish-and-chips: lightly battered slabs of fish piled on top of a heap of chips, a.k.a. French fries, with a mound of mashed peas on the side. I realized I was starving and reached for the bottle of malt vinegar to douse my fish with while draping my napkin in my lap.
“This looks amazing,” I said to Michael. “There’s nothing like pub grub.”
“That’s the truth of it,” Michael agreed with an easy smile. “Can I get you anythin’ else?”
“Two more pints,” Colin said.
Michael glanced between us, and I nodded. I figured we might as well settle in. Seven years was a lot of catching up to do.
“Comin’ up,” Michael said. He turned and headed back to the bar.
“So, what happened on your grand tour after you left Ireland?” Colin asked. “Where did you go? Who did you meet? And most important, why didn’t you come back?”
“Well.” I took a deep breath. Where should I start? Did I start with my mom? No, that was the end. I began with the countries I visited after I left Ireland. There was London, which was amazing; Germany, beautiful; France—that was tricky. I told him I was a nanny, but I didn’t mention Jean Claude. I wasn’t sure why—it just seemed like bad form. I talked more about Sweden instead.
Colin listened and asked insightful questions. I’d forgotten that about him. What a good listener he was, as if he could hear the subtext in my words. I gave quick details about the rest of my trip, not mentioning Marcellino either, and then I came to the news about my mother. When I told him about the call I’d received on that fateful day, my throat got tight. Colin put his hand over mine and gave my fingers a gentle squeeze.