Page 19 of What are the Chances

I’m rubbing the remaining sleep from my eyes when I find one of Sam’s Airbnb guests slicing a banana into his oatmeal.

If I’m remembering correctly, his name is Danny. Danny and his husband, Richard, are on a short holiday getaway, visiting Ireland’s countryside. Last night, after checking them in, they told me they were celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary.

As I make my way into the kitchen, I notice Danny is dressed in an open, red silk robe, wearing a plain white tank top and striped pajama pants underneath. Breaking his concentration, he looks up when he hears me entering the kitchen.

“Good morning, handsome,” he sings. Sending me a wink and a smirk, he returns to his banana slicing.

“Morning, Danny. I hope you and Richard slept well.” I watch as he finishes the last bit and tosses the peel into the rubbish.

“We did. Thank you.” Glancing up, he sends me a smile before walking over to the small breakfast table situated in front of the window overlooking the garden. Stirring his oatmeal, he adds, “I thought I would let Richard sleep in a bit longer. He works so much lately, he deserves it.”

I nod and grin, happy to hear they’re enjoying themselves. Silence falls on the room as Danny eats his breakfast while I awkwardly stand in between the kitchen and living room. Scanning the living room and hallway, Danny’s voice catches my attention.

“Your girlfriend is out back in the garden, under the tree.” He’s chewing a mouthful of oatmeal, pointing toward the window with his spoon.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I choke out. My stomach dips, hearing his reference to Charlotte being my girlfriend.

“Could have fooled me.” Shrugging, he takes another spoonful of his breakfast, opening the newspaper resting in the middle of the table.

I stare at Danny for a moment, wondering how in the hell he came up with the assumption Charlotte was my girlfriend. He’s never even seen the two of us together yet. He’s been here one day, so have Charlotte and me.

Leaving Danny to his breakfast, I slide on my worn Converse shoes and open the sliding door leading to the garden. As I’m weaving in and out of my mother’s herbs and flowers, I spot Charlotte sitting underneath my childhood tree, her legs crossed and her back resting against the bark. The same book she was reading on the flight rests in her lap, open to the middle. As I draw closer to her, she doesn’t break away from her reading. My chest warms, amazed at how enthralled she becomes when it comes to reading a story. Without saying a word, I sit down beside her, my knee brushing against hers. When I glance over, she looks up from her book, finally noticing me.

“Morning,” she grins.

“Good morning.” A small laugh bubbles up from my throat. Taking a deep breath, I’m thankful yet disappointed she’s no longer wearing her small tank top and shorts from last night. Instead, she’s wearing a black and white plaid shirt and dark skinny jeans, her brown hair tied up in a high messy bun. Regardless, I can’t help but notice how gorgeous she looks even when dressed so casually.

Squinting against the morning sun, I stare out into the bed of roses in front of me.

“Did you sleep well?” I smirk, hoping she knows I’m referring to her attempt at keeping us separated.

“I did,” she beams.

When I turn to look into her eyes, I can see the spark hidden within them. She’s thinking about those pillows too.

She closes her book, but keeps one finger held between the pages, keeping her place. Looking up, she follows my gaze, fixating on the beds of flowers as well.

“Mason,” she whispers.

I break away from the flowers and turn my head. She’s still staring straight ahead, but her eyes tense, thoughts building behind them.

“What am I going to do about my wallet? I don’t have my ID, I don’t have any money. I don’t have anything.” She turns her attention to her book, still resting in her lap. Dog-earing her page, she closes it and runs her palm down the cover.

“Did you call your bank to cancel your cards?”

“Yeah.” She swallows and takes a deep breath. “It was the first thing I did when I woke up.”

“Good.” I feel a bit better knowing the asshole won’t be able to use her cards. “I’m not sure there’s much else you can do, but we’ll figure something out. You still have your passport though, right?”

“Thankfully, yes. I didn’t bring it with me to the marketplace. I can’t even imagine what kind of mess that could have been.”

I nod but don’t know what to say, knowing no amount of words can comfort her. I can’t promise her we’ll find her wallet, I don’t think we’ll be able to. But the question of what Charlotte was doing down at that pub still eats away at my curiosity. I pick a blade of grass, twirling it between my fingers.

“What were you doing down at that pub, anyway?” As the seconds pass with no answer, I add, “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me about it, and it’s none of my business, but I’m just trying to understand. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear someone had robbed you.”

She pauses, staring into my eyes. Her breathing suddenly fills the open space between us, her small breaths becoming shallower with every rush of air between her bare lips.

“I’m an only child.” Clearing her throat, she briefly closes her eyes before she continues. “My dad left when I was two, and my mom died when I was thirteen. After losing my mom, I was forced to live with an estranged cousin of my mothers. She was old and died about two years after she took me in. After that, I was sent to live with some estranged uncle who drank too much and was hardly home. I never really thought much about not having family, but after being with Kyle for a bit, I realized I wanted my own family to turn to. So, last year I took one of those ancestry DNA kits and found out I’m over sixty percent Irish with my family originating in the Ennis area. Since Kyle was the one who urged me to get the kit in the first place, I asked him if we could plan a trip here together since he went to college here and knew Sam.”

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