by Sophie Love
There was a pause, then Shane replied with, “Maybe a little.”
Keira’s mouth dropped open in shock. She couldn’t tell if Shane was joking or not, but he certainly sounded serious.
“Have I said something to offend you?” she asked.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe.”
Keira remembered the way Shane had become drawn and insular during their trip to the Burren. She’d put her foot in something then, offended him in some way, but he hadn’t said how. Now she seemed to have done it again.
“Will you tell me what it is?” Keira said. “Because I seem to keep doing it and I don’t know why.”
Shane stretched up against his elbows on the fencing. He took a deep breath, then looked over at Keira. “If you must know, I have to pay my respects to someone,” he said.
“Oh,” Keira replied, deflating. Her voice softened. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Shane shook his head. “Not with you.”
He turned then, heading along the trail, leaving Keira standing there shocked and confused. With no choice, Keira followed him, feeling wounded, unsure of what she’d said or done to provoke such a strong rejection from him. She walked the rest of the trail with her tail between her legs.
*
Back in her room later that day, Keira sat at her desk with her laptop open in front of her. She needed to get some work to Elliot and Nina but was struggling to find anything to say about the trip to the Cliffs of Moher. Not to mention her mind was still reeling from the offense she had somehow caused Shane.
Outside in the streets, the festival was gearing up. She could hear live music from a troubadour on the street corner. She began typing.
I hope to never hear the sound of an accordion again in my life. On my second evening, the sad sound of a lonely troubadour floats through the crack in my bedroom window. I wonder what he’s done to alienate the rest of the musical community, why he’s decided to go it alone when every other second person in Lisdoonvarna plays a violin or fiddle or banjo and takes every opportunity to join in and show off their skill. Perhaps the troubadour knows something the rest of us hapless romantics do not, or refuse to: we are alone and will remain that way.
She paused. It sounded catty. There was no creativity involved in berating this place and it was starting to make her feel bad. But it was the sort of tone Elliot seemed to like and so she carried on in the same vein before sending it off.
Elliot replied a few moments later.
This is great, Keira. Make sure you get some more interviews tonight. We need some more first-person accounts.
Keira sat back in her chair absorbing his words. It was the first-person accounts she was struggling with. It felt too mean to speak to people expressly for the purpose of bashing them later. But that was what she was here to do.
With a sigh she collected her purse, sliding her pen and notebook inside. She was going to miss having Shane by her side tonight, and her enthusiasm for the work at hand was starting to wane.
As she left her room and descended the staircase, Keira wondered what exactly this place was doing to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The festival that night was just as loud as the night before. More, in fact, since tonight was the beginning of the organized activities and competitions. The town never seemed to sleep when the Festival of Love was in session.
Keira chose a pub and went inside. It was still early but the place was already packed. She found a table in the corner and settled herself in, taking her notebook and pen out of her purse, then scoured the crowds looking for someone to approach. She wanted all different kinds of people, not just young women like Tessa who were just there for no-strings-attached encounters. What she really wanted was someone who was genuinely there to find love, someone who actually believed that they could be matched at this festival.
Just then, a man at the bar caught her eye. He was older than the average person she’d seen at the festival, with gray hair. She placed him closer to fifty. He was alone, sat on a stool watching the festivities as though he himself weren’t really a part of them.
She stood and wended her way through the crowds until she’d reached the man. He looked a bit surprised to be approached by a young woman.
“Can I help you?” he asked in a thick Irish accent that Keira struggled to decipher over the noise.
She explained about who she was, why she was there, and asked whether he’d be willing to speak to her about his experiences of the festival.
“Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do,” he replied. “I’m Patrick.”
“Nice to meet you,” Keira said. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t help noticing that you’re significantly older than the average person here. I was wondering what made you come here today.”
Patrick laughed. “You mean I’m an old fart surrounded by beautiful women?”
Keira smiled and gave a shrug. “Your words, not mine.”
“You can put that in your piece,” Patrick added, tapping where she’d written the word fart in her notebook. He took a swig of his beer. “Okay, so you want my story. Here it goes. I’m older, yes, but it’s not because I’m some horrible old pervert looking for a younger wife. There’s plenty of men like me who find themselves without a partner at this stage of their life.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then leafed through before pulling out a photograph. “This here is Susan. My wife of thirty years. Until she divorced me.”
Keira wrote quickly, trying to decipher Patrick’s accent.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing, to be honest. The kids grew up and moved out. We both got older. I got comfortable, you know, let myself go, took her for granted. Then our business stalled and that meant the life I’d promised her never materialized. So she went off to find someone else who could provide it.” He put the picture away.
“So you’re here looking for some fun?” Keira asked. “Or some revenge?”
Patrick laughed. “I’m here looking for a wife!”
“You are?” Keira asked, wide-eyed. “You’re not, like, over the whole marriage thing? Bitter? Jaded?”
“Of course not!” Patrick said. “I’m not bitter and I’m not over the hill yet. What I had might not have been enough for Susan but there’ll be a lass out there who it will be enough for. Probably another divorcee.” He laughed. “You get a lot of them coming here. That and widows. They’re my best bet.”
Keira was surprised. Her parents’ own marriage had dissolved when she’d been very young, and her mother had lamented it for years. Watching her mom had meant that certain ideas were drilled into her head, and divorce was pretty much the worst thing she could imagine going through. It was a shock to meet someone who had not only gone through it but survived and come out the other end with their belief in love still intact.
“So you’re planning on meeting with the matchmaker?” Keira asked.
Patrick nodded. “I already have. There was a lady in his book that he thought would be perfect for me. Eileen. She’s forty-six, I believe, recently divorced also. Which means we’ve already got tons in common.” He grinned.
“Are you going to meet with her?” Keira asked.
“That’s why I’m here!” Patrick exclaimed. He smoothed his shirt down and his eyes lit up with excited anticipation. “I got in early so I could save us seats.”
For the second time, Keira was shocked. She thought she’d singled out a lonely man in the crowd, watching on but unable to participate. Instead, she’d interrupted a divorced man waiting for a new date! Patrick hadn’t been grateful for some company; Keira hadn’t saved him from his loneliness. She’d merely been a way for him to pass the time while he waited for his date to begin.
The door opened then, and a woman in a beautiful emerald dress walked in. She was a similar age to Patrick, with gray hair covered up with blond streaks, a body that was bigger than the ideal. But she was glamorous, making the
most of what she had, and looking very attractive for her age. She noticed Patrick and smiled.
“I should leave you to it,” Keira said, backing off, feeling usurped, for the first time in her life, by an older woman.
Patrick’s attention had already shifted to his date. He stood and kissed her on each cheek, then they both settled at the bar, the woman in the stool that Keira had just vacated.
Keira went back to her table and watched Patrick and his date as they chatted and laughed together. She noted the way she touched his hand as she spoke, and the sparkle in his eye as she laughed with abandon at one of his jokes. Once again, Keira felt another crack forming in her cynical wall. Maybe there was something to this. Maybe there were some people it worked for. Not someone like her, obviously, but for the older generation, ones who had already loved and lost and were ready to climb back on the horse again.
She stashed her notebook away realizing none of her interview with Patrick would make it into the final piece. The only way she’d be able to make it fit would be to turn him into a desperate caricature, something she was suddenly unwilling to do.
She would have to find someone else to interview, someone whose story aligned more closely with the cynical tone of the piece she was supposed to be writing. But everywhere she looked she just saw people enjoying themselves, people happy to be in new company, people who looked like they were falling in love. It was hardly the warts and all account that was supposed to be inspiring her. Instead, it left her with the most uncomfortable gooey, warm feeling inside.
Keira stood quickly before rushing out the pub and away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of romance.
*
Later that night, Keira received a welcome phone call from Nina. It was nice to get a taste of home, even if it was strictly on business matters.
“So Elliot loves what you’ve done so far,” Nina told her. “And so do I. Your writing has dramatically improved for this piece. The tone you’ve taken is perfect. It’s very evocative. I feel like I’m really there.”
“Thanks,” Keira said, smiling to herself.
“There is one thing, though,” Nina said. “Joshua is out of the hospital and wants to dive straight back to work. But the doctors have signed him off for the month and he’s not really supposed to come into the office. So Elliot thought it made more sense for him—Elliot—to take over the day-to-day Viatorum stuff and for Joshua to oversee the Ireland piece. Since he’s on a ton of painkillers that mess up his sleep-wake cycle anyway, it means he can be more available for you. So basically Elliot isn’t going to be overseeing the piece anymore.”
Keira felt crestfallen. It was Elliot whom she’d wanted to impress, Elliot who held the key to her future career. Joshua would just take his usual approach to her work, of being derisive, dismissive, and critical.
Suddenly Keira felt as if the risk she’d taken in coming here might not actually pay off after all. How likely was it now for her to take that step up the career ladder? What if she ended up losing Zachary for nothing!
She ended the call with Nina and immediately phoned him. This silly game of silent treatment had gone on long enough. They needed to talk things through, properly, like grown-ups.
To Keira’s surprise, the time zones must just have worked out because after several rings Zachary actually answered.
“I wondered how long it would take you to call,” Zach said.
Keira frowned. “I’ve been in contact constantly. You’re the one ignoring me.”
Already she picked up on the combative tone. This was going badly and she’d barely even said anything yet!
Zach scoffed. “I didn’t realize that photographs of sheep’s butts and inbred soccer teams required responses.”
“That’s not all I’ve done,” Keira replied cagily, feeling the need to defend herself.
“Oh, I forgot, there was also a drunk tirade. Thanks for reminding me.” His tone was sharp, acidic, filled with venom. “You know, that’s the sort of crap teenagers do, Keira. Sending drunk messages and stupid pictures. It’s childish. This is the first time you’ve actually attempted to speak to me like a grown-up.”
“If speaking was so important to you, why didn’t you call me yourself?” Keira replied. She wasn’t about to take the rap for their lack of communication over the last few days. At least she’d been trying. And Zach’s condescending attitude was rubbing her the wrong way.
“Maybe because I was just having too much fun without you,” Zach replied coolly.
A sudden jolt went through Keira. Something in his tone, the way he’d said it, had made her suspicious. “You mean with Julia?”
The other side of the line was silent.
“Zach?”
Keira felt a coldness spread all over her. His silence was speaking volumes.
“Zach, did you sleep with her?”
She heard him sigh. Then, finally, “Yeah.”
Keira felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She couldn’t catch her breath, so winded was she by his admission. She sat back against the bed, needing the support of the mattress beneath her to make it feel like the world wasn’t dropping out from under her feet.
“I can’t believe you’d do that to me,” she stammered.
Zach sighed. “You’d gone and left me. I thought I made it clear that if you went to Ireland then I wasn’t going to wait around for you.”
“No, you didn’t make it clear!” Keira yelled. “We argued, sure. You were pissed off. I get that. But I didn’t think you were breaking up with me!”
“I wasn’t,” Zach replied. “You were breaking up with me. Remember? I said if you left I didn’t think we could stay together. And then you left. As far as I was concerned, that was your way of ending it.”
Keira fought for breath. Everything she was hearing was insane. Zach was trying to turn this all on her. He was trying to excuse his actions by making it seem as if she’d broken up with him. But as far as she was concerned, the words were never spoken between them to indicate that it was actually over.
“Even if you did think we’d broken up, it’s not the classiest thing in the world to jump into bed with the first available woman,” Keira hissed. Her voice came out hot, her tone accusatory.
“Do you know what, Keira?” Zach replied, sounding equally furious. “You’re right. Julia was available. She was there. And that’s a damn sight more than you ever were.”
The call went dead.
Keira sat there holding the phone, finding it difficult to breathe. She hated crying but could feel now that there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She swallowed hard and found her throat completely constricted.
Had that really just happened? She’d never thought she’d hear such vitriol come from Zachary’s mouth. For it be directed at her cut her to the core.
She realized then that Bryn hadn’t been right about her and Zach at all. It wasn’t a case of her and Zach being right at the wrong time, they’d just been wrong all along! Zach had just shown her a side of himself that she never knew existed, one that didn’t support her achievements. He wasn’t rooting for her success, he never had been. He just wanted a girlfriend who was there, putting him first, meeting his needs at the expense of her own.
It dawned on her then that Zach was a jerk. How had she never seen it before?
She crawled into bed and pulled the thin duvet up over her head. Outside in the street she could hear the noises of single people undertaking their continual search for companionship. For the first time in two years, Keira joined their ranks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keira was ready and waiting outside Orin’s B&B bright and early the next morning. The last thing her broken heart needed was an Irish-style breakfast, so she’d made certain that there was no time for one, waking up with just enough time to shower and dress.
She stood on the street corner, her arms wrapped around her middle, feeling wounded by Zach’s betrayal. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get through today;
all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep. But when she saw Shane’s car approaching, she felt a sudden sense of relief, as though her loneliness was melting away.
He pulled to a halt, mounting the curb beside the B&B, and Keira got in the passenger side.
“Morning,” Shane said, stiffly.
Keira looked over at him, at his drawn expression, and suddenly remembered what he had told her yesterday about how he was going to pay his respects to someone, about how she wasn’t the person he wanted to talk about it to. Her instinct was to ask him how he was, check in to see whether he needed anything, but the breakup had knocked her confidence, and Shane’s rejection of her support yesterday stung more as a result. So instead of attempting to connect with him, she just stared absentmindedly out the window.
“Morning.”
Shane pulled away from the curb and they began the drive. Keira wallowed in her misery, watching the dreary greens and grays that passed by through the window.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Shane finally spoke.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“So are you,” she replied, her gaze still fixed out the window.
“I suppose I am.”
They fell into silence again. Keira hated it, the way their free and easy banter had been replaced by a huge, swelling nothingness.
“I spent the evening at a graveside,” Shane replied by way of explanation. “What about you?”
“I’m just tired.”
“There’s something else.”
She looked over at him at last. “It’s none of your business,” she said, echoing his sentiments from yesterday.
She didn’t mean to be snappy, but talking about the breakup was the last thing she wanted to do right now. What she really wanted was a long chat with Bryn or her mom. Usually they’d be the first people she turned to when seeking comfort, but Bryn had been jogging when she called, and said she didn’t have any time to chat, so she hadn’t even had the chance to tell her about Zach. And with her mom there was a high likelihood that she’d use it as an I told you so moment. Keira hadn’t been in the mood for that. Now speaking to anyone back in New York City was impossible because it was the middle of the night there. Keira hadn’t felt so lonely since coming to Ireland as she did now. She could’ve done with offloading to Shane, but clearly neither of them was in the right place for that right now.
