by Jill Cox
“What? I’m just making sure your brother’s five-thousand-dollar camera is secure.”
“Five thousand… are you serious?”
Pete laughed and snapped a shot of me. “Hey,” he said, motioning for me to step closer. “Remember last night when I said I loved you?”
My skin tingled. “Yeah?”
Even behind his glasses, I could see his eyes flickering from my left eye to my right.
“What?” I asked, stepping closer. “Tell me why you asked that.”
His lips quirked into a smile. “No reason. I was just making sure it stuck this time. I also put some spirulina in your coffee this morning in case you needed to boost your memory health.”
“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” I said, shoving him playfully.
“The quirk at the corner of your mouth tells me you think otherwise,” he said, grabbing my hands before I could pull them away. “Besides, you said you totally loved me back.”
“I thought I said I totally loved Chewbacca.”
“Oh, Sully,” he grinned, bending his head toward mine. “You’re so adorable when you find me annoying.”
We may have taken advantage of the alone time for a few minutes longer than I realized, because when we finally reached the fort at the top of the hill, Ian and Kate were already at the far end of the ruins, standing on the edge of the cliff. So I took off in their direction.
Or rather, I started to take off. But Pete wound his fingers through my belt loop and stopped my forward momentum. “Slow down there, turbo. Just hang back a minute.”
“Why?” I started to lunge forward again, but then I froze. Ian had just taken Kate’s hand and was sliding a tiny box from his jeans pocket. “Ohhhhh, no,” I squeaked. “Tell me he’s not asking her to –”
Pete unlaced his fingers from my belt loops and lifted Ian’s camera lens, clicking off twenty shots in rapid succession. “Relax, would you? That’s not an engagement ring. It’s just your grandmother’s claddagh ring.”
“What?” I pulled my own camera up to my face, focusing the lens. “That little jerk. Everyone knows those pass from mothers to their eldest daughters. That ring belongs to my mother, which means it belongs to me next. I told him so when he found it last week.”
I marched my way across the ruins. There was no way Ian was giving away my ring, especially not to some fake hippie Texan who wore two-hundred dollar jeans. But the second I was within earshot, I slammed on the brakes. Ian had just put the ring on Kate’s right hand – which should have been a relief, because if you placed a claddagh ring on someone’s left hand, you were announcing to the world that you’d be sharing a last name soon.
But the right hand was tricky, too. Which I’m guessing Kate knew, because by the time Pete reached my side, her face had gone twenty shades of purple.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Well, yeah. I’m saying you’re my girl.” Ian grabbed a clump of his hair and shoved it upright, despite the wind whipping it right back into chaos. “What’s the matter, Katie?”
“You placed it on my right hand with the heart’s tip facing my fingers.” Tears sprung to her eyes as she yanked off the ring. “That’s so mean, Ian.”
“Mean?” He looked like a human W, both arms outstretched like a question. “The other day when we found this ring in Nana’s jewelry box, you told me you loved this tradition. Why are you so upset?”
“Because!” She shouted, slamming the ring into his open palm. “Everyone knows that when you love someone, you place the claddagh ring so that the tip points up. Up, as in toward their heart, not away from it! Why don’t you know this, Ian? You’re Irish!”
“Barely!”
But Kate was already running back across the fortress ruins, dodging tourists and tiny children along the way. Ian was right behind her, stumbling along the gravel path.
Like a couple of sheep, we trailed behind them down the hill, Pete cradling Ian’s camera like it was a newborn baby. But then Kate reached a shuttle just as it was pulling away, and when she hopped on board without so much as a glance behind her, Ian stopped short in his tracks, then bent over, his hands gripping his knees as he heaved in deep breath after deep breath.
I turned to Pete. “Hold on a second. What just happened?”
“This must be your lucky day, Sully,” he said, snapping the cap back on Ian’s camera lens. “Looks like you’ll get your grandmother’s ring after all.”
THREE
The ferry dock at Kilronan Harbor was a seven-mile hike from Dún Aonghasa, but none of the three of us said a word as we shuffled along the ancient trail. Nor did we speak on the ninety-minute ferry ride back to Doolin. So when we discovered Kate had packed up the rental car and left our Nana’s house unlocked, I was hardly surprised that my brother stalked off without so much as a goodbye.
Pete and I waited at the cottage for an hour, just in case Kate returned. But when she posted a photo of her dinner on Instagram, I began to doubt she’d return anytime soon.
Room service! #WOMP
#IrishSodaBreadIsMyHomeboy
#IrishWhiskeyIsMyBae
Pete and I tracked Ian down on the northern lip of the Cliffs of Moher, just a few yards off the beaten path. He’d perched himself dangerously close to the edge, his arms hugging his knees to his chest as the surf roiled twenty stories below.
My brother and I didn’t share many physical traits. Where his hair was black, mine was auburn. He’d inherited my dad’s green eyes, and I’d inherited Mum’s grayish blue pair. My face and body were covered in freckles – which Molly Sullivan called Irish glitter – yet Ian had none. But what we did have in common was the way our traitorous Irish capillaries gave us both a case of the blotchies any time we felt the slightest hint of an emotion. And right then, as he stared westward toward the Aran Islands, Ian’s face looked as though tiny leprechauns had pelted him with raspberries.
Pete shot me a concerned look. But when I nodded, he let go of my hand and clambered up the cliff path toward O’Brien’s Tower without a single question. Gathering my full courage, I maneuvered my way down to Ian, grateful that the wind was blowing barely above a whisper.
I settled in cross-legged beside Ian, plucking at the petals of a wildflower like they were Kate’s eyelashes. The longer I sat there on the edge of the world, the angrier I grew. Ian had always been the strong one between the two of us. He handled things, you know? But for the past two weeks, every single second of our lives had revolved around Kate Maher. Yes, she was beautiful, but that was her only redeeming quality. Never in his life had Ian put up with anyone’s drama. He shouldn’t have to start now.
“You want to know how I realized this is bad?” A half-groan, half-laugh escaped him. “You haven’t even tried to make me feel guilty for giving her a ring that’s rightfully yours.”
“Only because I’m saving that opportunity for the next time Mum takes your side.”
“You mean the first minute we’re home?”
“Exactly.” I laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Fill me in here, mate. I want to see this girl through your eyes, but that’s turning into a bit of a challenge.”
He rubbed at his face for a few moments, then he turned to me, eyes bloodshot. “Look, I can tell by the shape your eyebrows are making that you think Kate overreacted today, but cut her some slack, okay? Kate’s an introvert.”
“So?”
“So, some people need space to clear their heads. You can’t appreciate that?”
“Being an introvert? Yes. Wanting your boyfriend’s attention all to yourself? Absolutely. But running away to sulk in an undisclosed location without letting your significant other know you’re okay? That’s not introverted. That’s narcissistic.”
“She’s not a narcissist. She’s an only child.”
“So is Pete, and you don’t see him running away.” I slid my hand unde
r his elbow and squeezed his arm. “Listen, I know you’re crazy about her, but she’s not a good match for you, Ian. She’s too high maintenance. Every time you leave the room, her eyes dart from side to side, like she’s some helpless kitten who can’t handle life without you. And worse than that, she sees Pete and me as her competition.”
“No.” A vein corded in his neck. “No, you’re reading her wrong. Do you have any idea how intimidating you and Pete are together?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Pete and I are completely normal.”
“Maybe you’re normal at Highgate College. But to the rest of us? It feels like the two of you are recording a podcast every second of the day. Like you live in a different stratosphere where only people with a certain IQ have access. And maybe you let me visit sometimes because I’m family. But Kate has cried nearly every night since you got here.”
“What? Why?”
“Because she feels left out.”
Was he right? I’d always assumed Kate had a master plan – villainize the pesky little sister, get Ian Sullivan all to herself. But this wouldn’t be the first time I’d misjudged someone. After all, where would I be now if I still believed Pete Russell was some simple-minded oaf?
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice scarcely above a whisper. “You know I only want to see you happy, and after spending this year with the Addison girls, I could use a little sisterhood in my life. So if I did something to cause Kate to leave today –”
“You didn’t. I did.” Ian squeezed my fingers against his elbow. “To be honest, I know all about the claddagh ring tradition. Right hand, heart tip pointed down – that means someone’s single. If it’s pointing up toward the person’s heart, that means they’re in love. And if it’s on the left hand –”
“Tip pointed down, you’re engaged. Pointed up, you’re married. So what?”
His eyes met mine. “I think she may have expected me to put it on her left hand.”
“But… you’ve only been dating a few months.”
“I know.” He brushed a hand over his face, his thumbs lingering near the bridge of his nose. “But I may have told her last night that Kate and Sullivan sounded perfect together.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gaped. “Oh my word, Ian. You are such an idiot.”
“Believe me, I know. Because the truth is, she didn’t misunderstand me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m serious, Meredith. I want to marry Kate. Even if you and Mum and Dad all think I’ve lost my mind, I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“But… why? Out of all the people you’ve dated in your life, why her?”
“Honestly?” He laughed under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “She’s the first person I can’t quite manage to win over, and it bugs me.”
“That is the dumbest thing you have ever said in your life.”
Ian feigned shock, then his eyes softened. “Hey,” he grinned, tapping at my charm bracelet. “You are totally wrapped around that frat boy’s little finger. You know that, right?”
“Yeah?” I scowled. “Well, so are you.”
Ian huffed out a laugh. “I guess I am a little bit. Can we keep him?”
“Are you sure Pete’s not the real reason Kate ran away?”
Ian’s expression twitched, but then he smiled. “When’d you get so grown up, Fee? You’re all wise and stable and stuff.”
“Well, you know. I’ve been collecting all the brain cells leaking out of your ears these past two weeks while you let some wingnut trample all over your noble heart.”
His green eyes sparkled. “Paris has changed you, Fee.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. I’m just having a hard time watching your future unfold right before my eyes. I’m pretty sure it’s only been a couple of days since you lost your first tooth. Before I know it, you’re going to have a new last name, one that rhymes with hustle.”
“You’re mental,” I said, mussing his hair. “Which is why you’ve got to end this bromance with my new boyfriend, because I don’t want you chasing him away with your creepy heart eyes.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Dude, I knew you were jealous.”
“Everyone’s jealous of you, Ian.”
FOUR
It was still light outside when we landed in Portland four nights later on a Tuesday evening, the last night of June. While the guys waited for our suitcases, I waited outside for my mom. I’d just unlocked the screen on my phone when a small blond person appeared before me.
“Hi,” she said. “How was your flight?”
I lifted my eyes to find Kate in all her glory. She’d curled her blond hair into loose, beachy waves, and only she could make a Greg’s Guidebook jacket look adorable. When I looked a little closer, I noticed her eyes were slightly puffy, but it didn’t matter. I’d never seen Kate look more beautiful than she did right that moment.
“Hi.” I brushed the stray hairs falling out of my wonky topknot back into place. “What are you doing here?”
“I, um…” she glanced around me, peering impatiently through the glass doors. “I brought Ian’s car down from Seattle.”
“You have keys to Ian’s car?”
“Well, yeah,” she blushed. “He lets me borrow it sometimes.”
“You don’t have your own car?”
“Uh, no. Not anymore.” She shifted her weight from side to side. “Public transportation’s so easy in Seattle that having a car seemed like an unnecessary luxury when I moved up here. Well, that, plus the number of tickets I got in college, which made insurance a little outrageous.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” She shoved the keys in her pockets. “Anyway, I wanted to give Ian a ride home.”
Home, I repeated inside my head. Well, it was true enough that my parents’ house hadn’t been Ian’s home in at least four years, but that didn’t make Seattle home. Ever since we’d agreed to pack up Nana’s house, the plan had always been for Ian to spend the rest of this week in Lincoln City with us. Alone.
Kate knew that. In fact, she’d spent two hours sulking when my brother had reminded her why he couldn’t spend Fourth of July with her.
“Katie?” I heard from behind me. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” she smiled, shoving her hands in her back pockets as she shifted her weight to one side. “Sorry to surprise you like this. I, um… flew back to Seattle on Sunday, and when I got to work yesterday, Greg invited a bunch of us new hires up to his house in Whistler for the rest of this week. You know, for the Fourth of July?”
“Yeah?” I turned to look at Ian only to find his expression soft. “Well, that was nice. I didn’t even know Greg had a place in Whistler.”
“Neither did I,” she smiled. “Anyway, I know you’re supposed to go to the coast with your family, but Greg invited you too. Actually, he made me leave work early today so I could invite you in person.” She cocked her hip out and raised both arms. “So here I am. Surprise!”
With barely a second glance, Ian handed me his messenger bag. “Hold this for a minute, would you, Fee?” Then he put his hand gently on Kate’s back and guided her back inside the airport, away from prying eyes.
“Wow,” Pete said under his breath. “There’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming.”
Me neither, I thought, glancing down the road, willing my mom to hurry up. “Kate looks really pretty tonight, doesn’t she? No wonder Ian’s crazy about her.”
“Crazy about her? Or just crazy?” Pete slipped his hand around my waist, nudging me closer. “Come on, Sully. You don’t have to be polite on my account.”
“I’m not being polite. I just don’t want to hate my brother’s girlfriend, you know?”
“I do know. But in your defense, she’s not easy to like.”
I let myself lean into Pete, and as I stared into the void, I tried to shift the lens and imagine the last couple of weeks from Kate’s point of view. Maybe she’d shown up tonight be
cause she missed my brother. Maybe she loved him. I could understand that. I would drive two hours to win back Pete, wouldn’t I? Hey, I might drive longer than that. Pete Russell had me for the long haul.
“Change of plans.” Ian and Kate appeared before us, holding hands. “Tell Mum I’m sorry, but I’ll text her once we’re in Whistler. I know how she frets.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, both hands in front of me. “You’re driving to Canada now?”
“Look, Fee – I know you haven’t worked for anyone except Dad, but when the CEO of your company invites you on vacation, you don’t ask questions. You just go.”
“But Ian, it’s at least an eight-hour drive up to Whistler, and that’s if there’s no congestion at the border. Don’t you think that’s a bad idea? You’re both exhausted.”
“So we’ll stop and get coffee,” Ian shrugged. “What better place to find a good caffeine fix than the Pacific Northwest?”
“But what about the Sea-to-Sky Highway? You love that drive, and it won’t be the same in the dark!”
“So we can see it on our way back home.”
There it was again. Home. I wanted to shake my brother. Seattle’s not your home. Kate’s not the right girl for you. Driving to Canada when you’re jet-lagged is ridiculous. If he couldn’t see reason, it was time to give him better options.
“Okay, how about this,” I said, clasping my hands together like a second-grade teacher. “Pete lives fifteen minutes from here. He’s got enough room for all of us, Mum included. With the time change, you’ll wake up at the crack of dawn anyway, so why don’t you catch a few hours of sleep now and drive up first thing tomorrow on the jet lag express? I’m sure Greg will understand.”
I felt Pete tense beside me. “Oh, right. My house. Good idea,” he said, clearing his throat. “I mean, no one’s been there for a couple of months so it might smell a bit musty. But we can open some windows or something. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
