Forget-Me-Not

by Kris Bryant

  “Thank you for coming. I thought we would have more space here at the office than at The Irish Garden.” I look at the stacks of papers spread out over the table.

  “All of these need to be signed?” She nods.

  “I’ve put tabs out on all of the places I need you to sign to make it easier. Of course, please take your time reading through the documents. I will be here to answer any questions you might have.”

  “Thank you,” I say. The receptionist returns with a water and I smile a thank you at her. I don’t miss Kerry’s scowl and I refrain from shaking my head in disbelief. What the hell did I do to her? I’m tempted to go out and buy her a new car, but somehow she would take that wrong, too. I dig into the documents and try to concentrate on the words. I’m sure Kerry thinks I’m a slow reader, but I simply find it difficult to think around her. I’m very surprised at the amount they are going to list the shop for. I thought maybe it would sell for one hundred thousand dollars, but Kerry has it listed for three hundred thousand euros, which is approximately three hundred and thirty thousand dollars.

  “Is the shop really worth this much money?” I ask. When her green eyes meet mine, I actually shiver. She’s intense.

  “The location is everything. Nola obviously knew what she was doing. The Irish Garden is within walking distance of everything including the wharf, and it’s easily accessible from all streets. There is ample car and bike parking. I can’t promise that the new owner will keep the store about flowers though,” she says. I frown knowing full well that somebody will turn this into another coffee shop or food market. Not a bad thing, but one that makes my heart heavy. I sign all of the pages anxious to be done with this whole exchange. I need to get away from her. I can smell her perfume or lotion from here. It’s a sweet, floral scent and makes me smile. I don’t want to smile around her. I just want to leave.

  “Kerry, can I see you a moment?” An older pleasant looking gentleman opens the conference room door, nodding at me. “Pardon the interruption.” She gets up and follows him to an empty cubicle. Their conversation turns heated almost immediately. I can’t hear words through the glass, but every few seconds, I see Kerry glance my way. I’m almost positive they are talking about me. I stand up and observe them, no longer caring if they see me or not. I watch as she leans her hip against the desk, her arms crossed defensively across her chest. She nods a few times, then looks at me, but this time she doesn’t look away. Neither do I. Eventually, the man she is with turns to see what she is looking at. He breaks our spell and I look away first. Within a few seconds, she heads back to the conference room. I see her heels and shapely legs walk the outside length of the room before the door opens.

  “Sorry about that. Do you have any questions so far? Is there anything you need help with?” she asks.

  “Who is that?” I ask.

  “My father,” she says. I want to laugh because I know she just got scolding for something, but we aren’t on friendly terms so I let it slide. She sighs and sinks down on one of the conference room chairs. “Look, Grace, I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I know I’m not being fair to you or the situation. Let me review the documents and afterward, I would like to take you to lunch to celebrate.”

  “You don’t look like you want to celebrate. It’s okay. I can get my own lunch.” I sound pouty even to myself. “I know you’re busy.”

  “I really would like to take you to lunch,” she says with conviction. I look away and pretend to review the final pages of the contract, even though I’ve already signed everything. She’s watching me, waiting for my answer. I lean back in my chair again.

  “So, are you really this mad at me about your car? I mean, I know you have to be upset about your car, but I gave Luke my credit card and offered to pay for a rental car until yours gets fixed. I love my car, too, but I’m not going to hate somebody because of an accident,” I say. That might not be entirely true. My car is incredible. She sighs.

  “Let’s go to lunch and we can talk,” she says. The anger is gone from her face and now she just looks sad.

  “Fine.” I don’t really know if I want to spend the next hour or so with her, but for once she doesn’t look like she wants me to die so I guess I can take the chance.

  “My brother’s pub is just down the street,” she says.

  I lift my eyebrows in surprise. “That sounds good.” I watch as she heads for her office to grab her overcoat. Today is a chillier day than even I expected. I zip up my leather jacket and put on a beautiful wool scarf that I found in my aunt’s closet. I wanted to wear a skirt and blouse today, but it’s very windy so I opted for jeans again and my favorite sweater when I heard the weather forecast. I try not to focus on her curves as she twirls the overcoat around her shoulders. Her navy suit fits her a lot better than the taupe one from the other day and I find myself appreciating her form. I’m irritated with myself for focusing on her looks so I turn away and concentrate on a corporate newsletter on the table.

  “Are you ready?” She ties her hair back with a clip and puts on a scarf. With all of that hair, I’m sure her head doesn’t get cold very often. I nod and we head out the front door. Her brother’s pub is a short walk away and I slow my step so that I can look around. I’m fascinated by the age of Dublin. The date plaques on the buildings are from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

  “How well do you know your own history?” Kerry looks puzzled by the question. “I just find it so fascinating that Dublin is so old. You must have some incredible historical stories about this town, not to mention all of the folklore.” She sort of smiles at me.

  “Well, the Mulligans have been here for centuries. I could write a book on the shenanigans of my family,” she says. “We probably have more black sheep in our family than most.” I smile at her.

  “I don’t know a lot of the history of my family,” I say.

  “Well, you are Irish, correct?”

  “Yes, on my mother’s side. Aunt Nola was my maternal grandmother’s sister. My father’s family is Swedish,” I say.

  “That’s probably where you got your blue eyes from,” she says. I’m surprised she knows that even though I’m right next to her. She hasn’t made eye contact with me a lot.

  “My mom had blonde hair, too,” I say. “I’ve noticed that most of the people I’ve seen have dark brown hair. Except for you and Colleen. I guess I’m a typical American who thinks all Irish have red hair and green eyes.” That gets Kerry to smile. It changes everything about the way she looks.

  “You will see more redheads now that we are in the city. We have a lot of different hair colors, but surprisingly not a lot of blondes. Not real blondes, I should say,” she says. I’m not about to tell her I highlight my hair. We walk in silence until we get to the pub. I almost walk right by it, but suddenly Kerry taps my forearm and darts inside a door on her left. I only have a second to look up and see that we are at Mulligan’s Bar. I walk in and again, I’m surrounded by warmth and charm. What is it about Irish pubs? I watch as Kerry heads to the bar and kisses a jovial, nice-looking man on the cheek.

  “Brother, we need a table,” she says. “This is Grace from America.” I smile at him and for just a split second, I see his smile waiver back at me.

  “Grace, it’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Mulligan’s. I’m Keagan. No tables yet so sit at the bar and have a beer,” he says. He shakes my hand and has two people scoot down a couple of seats so that we can sit down. I start to protest, but nobody seems to mind so I shrug off my leather coat and take a seat. Kerry surprises me by taking my coat and hers and hanging them up on hooks near the entrance. Apparently they aren’t worried about theft like I am. Keagan’s accent is stronger than Kerry’s and I have to block out all noise to understand him.

  “So, what do you think of the shop?” he asks. I can feel Kerry staring at me, my peripheral picking up on her eyes darting all over my profile and suddenly my mouth is dry. I stumble over my words.

  “Um, well, I, I think, I think
it’s very lovely,” I say. “A lot nicer than some of the flower shops back home.”

  “Dallas, Texas, right?” he asks. So I guess Kerry’s been talking about me. Given our start, I’m sure they weren’t kind words. I nod. “A true cowgirl,” he says. I smile.

  “I’m even wearing my boots, but I sure do miss my hat.”

  He leans over the bar to look down at my boots. I have no choice but to show him. He laughs. “Those are perfect. I love them. Maybe I should get Emma a pair,” he says. He puts two Guinnesses in front of us and disappears for a minute. Realization strikes me.

  “Emma is your sister-in-law?” I know my eyes are huge right now as my brain processes the jigsaw of information as it falls into place.

  “Yes. She and my brother have been married two years. My brother took over the bar when my uncle passed away. He’s struggling to keep this place going,” Kerry says. That surprises me judging by the large lunch crowd. “He’s so stubborn. I tell him his prices are too cheap, but he says he’s helping the college students by offering cheap food and good beer. I need to remind him that he’s got a family to consider now. A wife and a child.”

  “Oh, you’re going to be an aunt,” I say. She gives me a genuine smile that takes my breath away. I feel a fluttering inside of my chest and have to take a deep breath to keep my confusing emotions in check. “Do you already have any nieces and nephews?” She shakes her head.

  “No, this baby will be the first. Emma’s due in two weeks, but we are all nervous wrecks,” she says. “My da is impossible. He’s built, carved, and created so many different things for the baby already. He can’t relax. My mother is ready and calm, but inside I know she is as excited as the rest of us.”

  “I don’t have any nieces or nephews either. My brother and his wife have fur babies only,” I say. She looks puzzled. “Fur babies. Dogs and cats.” She laughs.

  “The only animal I even get close to is Abram,” she says.

  “Who doesn’t like pets?” I ask.

  “I love animals, but I don’t have any pets. How many do you have?”

  “I work entirely too many hours to be fair to any animal. Maybe when my life settles down, I’ll rescue a dog or a cat. I haven’t really thought about cats until I met Abram. He’s such a sweet boy,” I say. Yesterday, he was upstairs the entire day with me and I enjoyed knowing he was close.

  “Agreed. I stay pretty busy, too, but once I save enough money for the farm I want, I will have sheep, goats, dogs, and chickens. Then I won’t have to work so much on the real estate side and can make my own hours. And I’ve said too much,” she says, nervously twirling her glass of beer between her hands. It’s obvious Kerry doesn’t like to talk about herself, especially to me. I take a big gulp of beer for courage and ask what’s been on my mind since I got here.

  “So tell me why I’ve been such a sore spot for you. I know I screwed up your car, but I have to think it’s more. Whatever conversation you had with your dad just made you even angrier at me and I just want to know why. We’re going to be working together and I need some sort of peace. This isn’t easy for me.”

  She sighs. “My stubbornness always gets in my way. I know you’re dealing with your aunt’s death, but I also know you weren’t very close to her. You want to sell the shop as quickly as possible and get back to your life, but I don’t think you see the repercussions that selling the place has on us. Jobs aren’t as readily available as they are in America. Emma is pregnant and once she gives birth, where is she going to go? She and my brother need the money from her job to survive. And Leigh. She’s in her fifties and who is going to hire her? She might get a job on the wharf, but that’s hard labor. Conor is young and able, but he doesn’t have the best history with his family and there aren’t going to be too many places that are flexible with his school schedule. I resent that you can just come here and turn so many lives upside down without a second thought.”

  “You have got to be kidding me. My aunt isn’t the only person who has owned a business and has died. This happens all the time,” I say. I know I sound heartless, but the fact that she is blaming me for three people losing their jobs is just ridiculous. “I’m sorry that this affects your family, but this affects me, too. I didn’t ask for any of this.” I get up to leave because now I’m just pissed off, but she grabs my forearm.

  “Grace, wait. You haven’t even heard all of it.” I’m very much aware of her fingers still curled around my arm so instead of jerking my arm out of her grasp and further embarrassing both of us, I stop and lean against the bar.

  “There’s more? What else? Are you going to blame me for every break up because now Howth doesn’t have a flower shop and people can’t send flowers as an apology? I’ve heard enough, Kerry. Thanks for the beer.” I head for the exit, grabbing my coat on the way out. The biting wind feels good against my heated body. I don’t even know why my aunt wanted me to work with the Mulligans. Kerry is not a nice person. Admirable that she cares for her family and the other people who work there, but completely ridiculous in blaming me. I head the way we came, hoping to get lost in the crowd. I have no idea where I am, but I know there is a rail station close by. I follow the signs until I see the station and buy a one way ticket back to Howth. Screw her. She can just earn her commission by coming out to the shop when she needs me to sign papers.

  Chapter Five

  The bedroom is the hardest room for me to go through, which is probably the reason I save it for last. My bedroom is my sanctuary and judging by the large envelope of letters and mementos I find in the closet, it was hers, too. A letter addressed to me is on the floor by the nightstand. I guess Abram knocked it over or the wind did when Kerry opened the windows to air out the rooms. I open it with great anticipation, hoping for answers that nobody in my family has for me.

  Gracie,

  I hope that you remember me and the little time we spent together years ago. I remember you fondly and our talk at your grandfather’s retirement. It made the biggest impact on my life. I am sure you are curious as to why you are my beneficiary. Believe it or not, you talked me into being true to my heart and to myself as you were struggling with dealing with your own sexuality. You were open with me, but worried about how your family would take it. I was worried about the same thing for myself, but you helped me make the decision to follow my heart and be with my true love. By now hopefully you’ve found pictures of me and Kate. I followed her to Ireland, but kept my distance until I realized I was hurting both of us. When I finally told her my true feelings, we had ten remarkable years together. Those were the best years of my life and I have you to thank for them. We had been friends for years, but seeing your strength and determination to be true to yourself, I decided to take a chance and reveal my feelings to Kate. Thankfully, she reciprocated and we had a beautiful life together until she passed away two years ago. I was never close to anyone in the family. With your love for art and beauty, I wanted you to have an opportunity to get away from your life in Texas and start fresh somewhere else. If this isn’t something you want, then please sell the shop and use the money for a fabulous vacation or to do something you’ve always wanted.

  I hope you appreciate our little shop. We’ve done a lot of good in this town and people respect it. They never questioned my relationship with Kate and accepted us with open arms. They have wonderful hearts and I hope that you spend some time here so that you can experience the kindness and love we did. Thank you, Grace, for your enlightenment years ago.

  Always,

  Nola

  Kerry’s business card is attached to the letter. Apparently, Aunt Nola saw something in Kerry that I’ve only caught a glimpse of. Didn’t she know how obstinate Kerry is? Stubborn just grazes Kerry’s surface. In the short time I’ve known her, she has managed to annoy me to the point where I don’t even want to talk to her again. I wouldn’t mind looking at her from a good distance, but no words. Her hair fascinates me. Is it always wavy and does it feel as thick as it looks? No. I don
’t care. And her full lips. Are they as soft as they look? I shake my head, trying to rid the image of her from my mind. I’m mad at her for laying a guilt trip on me for something I don’t have control over. Was she this rude to my aunt? Probably not since my aunt was still employing her family and friends. My heart feels heavy from this day. I head for the kitchen to fix tea. That will get rid of the chill and maybe even settle me down. I pick up Abram and pet him while the water heats up. He’s the perfect cat for a family with children. He doesn’t care that I pick him up, flip him on his back, and rub his belly. He sprawls out and purrs as I pet him. I’m going to miss him when I leave. The tea kettle whistles that the water is ready, and for the first time since I got here, I sit down and relax. I have a warm cup of peppermint tea and a lovable cat as my company. I’m at peace.

  I wake up to Abram leaving my arms and jumping off of the couch. Apparently, I was tired because we’ve been asleep for at least two hours. There is something about this place and this cat that makes me want to nap all of the time. I look around the room and freeze when I see Kerry squatting down in the doorway, petting Abram.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, my defenses instantly up.

  “I came to apologize,” she says. I’m completely unnerved at her in my space and I’m wavering between telling her to get out and telling her to have a seat. I don’t like it when people watch me sleep. Not that I think she was because it doesn’t appear that she’s been here long, but it still is unsettling. She shrugs out of her overcoat and gently places it across the back of the chair. Picking up Abram, she nuzzles him for a few seconds before sitting in the chair and plopping him on her lap. I slide up into a sitting position and rub my hands over my face in an effort to wake up. “Look, Grace, I’m not an easy person to get to know and our initial meeting wasn’t great, but I still have no right to get upset with you.” I reach out and hand her the letter. I’m just tired of arguing and being on edge around her. I need space so I head for the kitchen and rinse out my cup of tea. Now I’m just hungry. I’m sure if I head back to the bed and breakfast, Ms. Walsh will whip me up something to eat even though it’s between lunch and dinner.