by Elin Peer
The old woman moved one of the dogs with her knee and came closer. “And yet when ye speak of him, yer face lights up.”
“That’s just because I haven’t seen him for five years, and tomorrow, I finally get to see him again.”
“Five years.” Her wrinkled face scrunched up. “Are ye certain he even remembers ye?”
My heart pumped faster and I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
CHAPTER 3
Trinity College
Charles
A group of tourists passed me as I walked from the old historical buildings of Trinity College where I’d just taught a lecture on International Law.
The male student leading the guided tour talked about Trinity College being Ireland’s oldest university and how it was once a monastery. The young guide was wearing the brown robe that used to be mandatory until the early seventies. He was charming and seemed very confident in his presentation.
“The Victorian buildings that you see now are not the original from when the daughter of Henry VIII founded Trinity College back in 1592. The oldest building that we have left is from 1699.” He turned and pointed. “This statue is of one of our previous headmasters, George Salmon, also known as Grumpy George. It is said that he was so adamant about never allowing women into his fine school that he said, ‘Women will enter Trinity College over my dead body.’ This turned out to be an accurate prediction since despite his veto, the board eventually forced him to sign the papers opening up enrollment for women, but true to his word, George died a few days before the first woman, Isabel Johnston, arrived to study here.
“Now, it’s become a tradition for the women who graduate here to climb up on his statue and have a photo taken with Grumpy George.”
The group moved as the tour guide waved a hand. “Follow me, and I’ll tell you about the time some students got fed up with a professor and shot him. It’s this way.”
I turned my head to the tour guide. What? No one has told me about a professor getting shot! Was it recently?
A quick look at my watch told me I had time, so I followed the large group to hear the rest of the story.
Some tourists were commenting to each other right in front of me. “Don’t you just love the old-world charm with the cobblestones and the Victorian atmosphere? It’s so adorable. We sure don’t have anything like this back in Texas.”
The guide stopped and waited for his audience to gather around him.
“The Rubrics building behind me is legendary because of several things. One, it’s the oldest, more than three hundred years old. Two, it’s the cheapest place to live on campus.”
“Why? It looks so cute,” a tourist asked.
“Oh, don’t let the red bricks, the charming windows, and the central location fool you. This place has twelve apartments with four students in each. Yet there are only two bathrooms and they’re outside. If you get here in the morning, you’ll see tenants coming out of this door and walking all the way to that door. If they’re lucky a bathroom is free. Otherwise they’ll have to line up, and if that weren’t bad enough, these buildings are freezing cold and drafty. But what makes these buildings truly legendary is the ghost that haunts them.”
I smiled a little, enjoying the showmanship of the student guide.
“In 1734 a Fellow named Edward Ford lived in this building. He was hated by the students and one night there was a confrontation between him and a group of the young men. When they threw rocks through his window, he shot at them, so some of them went back and got their own guns. Edward was shot when he came to the window to admonish them and it’s said that he haunts this place.”
“What about the men who shot him?” a man asked.
“Good question. An interesting twist to the story is that there were no witnesses. Despite fifty students living here, no one saw a thing. Do you think that’s possible?”
A man with a German accent spoke up. “No way. The other students were just covering up for their friends who shot him.”
“I think so too. The four men that the police named as the culprits were acquitted by the court, but the board still expelled them. Our next stop is the old library, which has been in a lot of movies.”
I’d been standing on the outskirts of the group and was just about to walk away when a woman turned her head and met my eyes.
Charlie.
It had been years since I’d seen her, but I would have recognized her anywhere. She did a double take before her lips spread in a bright smile.
As the group moved on, we stayed behind, with me coming to stand in front of her. “Small world. What are you doing here?”
She grinned. “I know, right? I should be done with universities, but a friend told me that you can’t visit Dublin and not see Trinity Library. Turns out you can get a tour and access to the library for almost the same price, so here I am – soaking up the ghost stories.” She laughed and reached out to touch my elbow for a second. “And you, what are you doing here?”
“I teach here.” My tics acted up, but the joy on her face to see me made me continue. “It’s a long story, but my mom was Irish so I came to learn more about that side of my family and I just loved it here, so yeah, I decided to stay.”
Her eyes widened. “As in permanently?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Wow. I thought I was being adventurous by taking a trip to Europe, but you just had to outdo me and move here.”
We laughed together and then I looked after the group, who were turning a corner in the distance. “You’re losing the group.”
She looked back over her shoulder and then to me again. “It’s okay, the tour was almost over and since you’re a local now, how about you show me?”
“I’m afraid I’m not much of a historian.” I scanned her hands for a wedding band and couldn’t decide if the ring on her finger was only decorative. “Ehm, are you traveling alone or with someone?” I was half expecting some guy to come jogging and pull her away again.
“Alone.” She bit her lip. “I needed some time to clear my head, you know. Things have been hectic these last years and…” She stopped herself. “I’m sorry, you’re probably busy and I don’t want to take up your time telling you about my sad love life.”
Her words empowered me to ask what I should have asked the first time I saw her. “No, it’s fine. I was going to grab some lunch and get some work done. Are you busy or do you want to have lunch with me?”
She lit up. “I’d love to.”
“Great. Should I call you Charlie or Liv?”
“You remembered.” She looked genuinely impressed and surprised. “I prefer Liv, if you don’t mind.”
Lifting my hand, I swung it to the main entrance. “All right, Liv. I know a nice Italian restaurant. Will that work?”
“Pizza always works for me.”
“Yeah? Which pizza is your favorite?”
We made small talk as we walked the ten minutes to the Italian restaurant that I liked so much.
“This is so cute.” Liv was doing a full spin, her head leaning back as she looked up at the old brick buildings surrounding the covered patio with the string lights, heaters, and brightly colored chairs and tables. “It’s like a hidden gem.”
“And they make amazing food on top of that.”
Liv sat down at the table that the host had led us to. “I can’t believe you recognized me after all these years.”
“You haven’t changed that much.” I sat down too.
“No?” She shrugged. “That’s because you only see the outside of me. Inside I’ve grown old and cynical.” She followed her statement with a small wink that made my heart beat faster.
What was it about this woman? I’d only ever had brief encounters with her and every time I’d been spellbound by her.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Charles, but you’ve changed a lot. You look so grown up and now your hair is all stylish. I like it.”
“Does that mean
you didn’t like my hair before?”
“No, actually, I remember that I had this thought…” She trailed off and shook her head with a laugh. “Please don’t judge, but the first time I saw you in that coffee bar, I remember thinking that I wanted to slide my hands through your hair. It looked so thick and soft.”
That had me smiling more. “Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Would you have let me touch you? I was a complete stranger.” She wrinkled her nose up. “I’m outgoing and forward, but I’m not without social filters. Even I know that walking up to a hot guy and asking to touch him would be making a bad first impression, which of course I still did when I took a sip from your cup.” She held both hands to her hair to underline how embarrassing that had been to her.
I smiled and couldn’t get past the fact that she’d called me hot. “Don’t worry about it. I was entertained by you.”
“You were?”
A waiter brought us a basket of bread and asked for our order. I went with a salad while she ordered a pizza.
She looked around. “I’m so happy I ran into you, because I don’t like going to restaurants by myself.”
“No? It’s not so bad. You just have to get used to it.”
“Maybe, but I’m telling you that I’ve had the strangest guys approach me. It’s like a woman sitting alone at a table is seen as an invitation for them to join me. One of them wouldn’t stop talking about his collection of dried flowers, and another was a feces donor, which I didn’t even know was a thing. I mean it’s fascinating and admirable that he gets to help people with bowel problems, but I was eating when he brought up the subject.”
“A feces donor. Really?”
“Yup.”
“You sure he wasn’t making it up?”
“That’s what I thought, but I looked it up and it’s true. Doctors use fecal transplants where they clear out the patients’ digestive tract and then they infuse a dose of healthy stool containing the bacteria needed to digest food.”
Picking up a piece of the warm bread, I broke it in two parts. “Interesting.”
“Oh no, I’m doing it again. You’re eating and I’m entertaining you with stories of stool. I’m so sorry, Charles. I don’t know why I always behave so awkwardly around you. Maybe it’s because you make me nervous.”
I stopped my hand halfway to my mouth, and lowered the bread again. “I make you nervous?”
She was wearing a sweater again, this time gray and cozy-looking. “Yeah, you have such a refinement about you that’s a bit intimidating.”
I tasted the word. “Refinement.”
“Mmm, you just look like you’ve read a thousand books and that you’re eternally bored with us mediocre human beings.”
That made me laugh. “That’s your impression of me?”
“Am I wrong?” She flashed those perfect teeth of hers and swung her long brown hair back. I had seen her without make-up in the coffee bar, and with make-up outside of Lucy’s bar. Today, she was somewhere in between, with a discreet amount that emphasized her natural beauty without being overpowering.
“I certainly have read thousands of books or at least it feels that way, but I wouldn’t say that I’m bored. Didn’t I just tell you that I found you entertaining at the coffee bar?”
She picked up her napkin and placed in it her lap before giving me a playful smile. “Sure, but we both know that you and I have chemistry, so I’m different than all the other sad humans you have to endure.”
A tingle ran up my spine, and tics made me blink a few times. I should respond and keep the flirtatious energy going between us, but her comment about us having chemistry threw me off.
“Or maybe not?” She licked her lips, looked down, and shifted in her chair.
An awkward silence spread between us.
“Ehhm, you studied anthropology, didn’t you?” I asked to change the subject.
“Yes, I graduated with a major in anthropology and a minor in psychology. Now I work for an NGO but I’m not loving it as much as I thought I would.” She smiled at the waiter who brought us our drinks and then she took a sip of her Pellegrino.
“So, what are you going to do?” I lifted the cold lager that the waiter had placed in front of me.
“I don’t know. This is a weird time in my life. I feel like I’m standing in this huge roundabout with roads going in a hundred directions around me. I’ve worked so hard to get here. Gotten my degrees, cleaned out toxic relationships, and become independent. I finally have freedom to live my life, but I’m terrified of choosing the wrong path.
“Careerwise?”
She planted an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “Career, relationship, family, what city to live in. I’m unsure about where to go from here.”
“Having choices can be stressful.” I thought about it. “I was a bit lost myself, but I’ve found an amazing group of people here in Dublin and things are beginning to make sense.”
“When you say people, does that include a partner?” Her tone was soft. “I don’t see a ring on your hand.”
So, I’m not the only one who looked for that.
“No, I’m not married.” I was flattered that she even cared. “You?”
“Nope. That’s where the cynical part of me comes from. I haven’t had much luck in love.”
“Why?” The question flew out of me. People like Liv who were outgoing, intelligent, and beautiful had been blessed from birth. If they couldn’t make love work, then how were people like me with a whole boatload of issues supposed to stand a chance?
“I’d love to tell you that it was all because of my awful taste in men, but my therapist wants me to take responsibility, so the honest truth is that I’m a bit much to handle for any man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why would I tell you that when I’m trying to make a good impression? Or is that too late?” There it was again, her easygoing flirtatious energy that reached me like a seductive force of female power.
“What do you have to lose? As I see it, it’s better to wear your uniqueness as a beacon. Just lay it all out. The people who can’t handle you will move on, and the people who are part of your tribe will have an easier time finding you.”
“Oh, I love that.” She paused and leaned back to make room for the food that was brought to our table. “I knew you were a smart guy.”
Digging my fork into my salad, I shrugged. “I can’t take credit for those words. My mentor taught me that.”
“You have a mentor?”
“Uh-huh. So back to your theory that you’re too much for men to handle. Tell me more.” My shoulder lifted and my eyes winked in a series of tics.
A shy smile spread on Liv’s lips. “You want to know the skeletons in my closet? All right, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
I chewed and swallowed the salad in my mouth before responding. “I already told you I have Tourette’s.”
“Yeah, but that’s just part of your charm. We’re talking skeletons here. Scary, rattling skeletons that make your lovers run away screaming.”
She thought my Tourette’s was charming? I didn’t have time to process that because she was pointing at me with a slice of pizza in her hand. “I want juicy, dirty details.”
“I’m socially awkward.”
“Don’t tell me that you take sips from other people’s coffee cups or you tell them about poop when you want them to like you?”
“No.” I smiled at her self-deprecating irony. “But I’m shy and introverted.”
“Yeah, no…” She shook her head. “You’re going to have to find something better than that.”
“I’ve never had a serious relationship.”
She stiffened and raised an eyebrow. “Define serious.”
“I’ve never had someone call me their boyfriend and vice versa.”
“Wait…” She moved forward in her chair and lowered her voice. “You’re gay?”
“No!” I didn’t have a prob
lem with gay people, but I didn’t want Liv to doubt that I was interested in women.
“Then why did you say vice versa? That would mean you called each other boyfriend.”
“Wrong choice of words. I meant that I haven’t been in a committed relationship.”
“Oh, okay.” Her fingers were picking up some strings of melted cheese and placing them on top of her pizza slice. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman yet.”
“Maybe.” I moved in my seat. “I actually met one that I thought could be the right one not so long ago.”
“Here?”
“Yes. Her name is Sara and I met her my first week in Dublin. She’s a lawyer like me and I met her at the conference that I attended when I first arrived here. She was outgoing, charming, intelligent, kind, and I just had an instant connection with her.” I put down my fork and raised my lager again. “She was the one who introduced me to my mentor and the group of people I’ve come to like so much.”
“Nice. So, what happened? I’m sensing it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”
“No, Sara isn’t in a place in her life where she can commit to a relationship. She says it’s constricting for our souls and that love should be an energy shared without labels.”
Liv swallowed her food and lowered her brow. “What does that even mean? Is that a fancy way to tell you she wants you to have an open relationship?”
“Could be. But that’s not my thing. And besides, she shares her love with O’Brien, so…”
“Who’s O’Brien?”
“Conor O’Brien is my mentor. He runs a mastermind group out in Howth, where I live.” I leaned back. “Now show me one of your skeletons.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Liv seemed to think about it before she met my eyes. “Okay, but anything we tell each other has to stay between us.”
Chills ran up and down my spine from the intimacy between us. “You have my word.”
“My last boyfriend told me that…” She rubbed her forehead. “This is so embarrassing.”
I waited.
“When we broke up, he told me that I… snore.” The last word came out in a mumble and I didn’t understand.
