Page 16 of Heart Strings
I shrug. “I didn’t leave anything here over Christmas. What are you on about?”
He sighs in exasperation. “You did. And I remember her making a big deal about how great you looked in it during one family dinner.”
“Put me off my food,” Marie adds. “No one wants to hear what a ride their brother is. And I hear it all the time in school now, too. Ugh.”
“If you cared about us, you’d wear a paper bag over your head,” Fionn says.
I have no recollection of that meal or that shirt, but if it made such an impression on Lo…“Where is it now?”
“It’s all the way in the back, I think. Behind the winter coats.”
Wooden hangers slide out of the way and I’m suddenly nose to nose with another grinning ventriloquist face.
“Gah!” I stumble back as Marie cackles. I’d forgotten we had two of these awful things in the house. I poke a finger at my siblings. “You’re twisted.”
“ ‘Reach further back…’ ” Fionn says with mirthful eyes. “I can’t believe he fell for it!”
“The biggest dummy here is the one whodoesn’thave a hand up his ass,” Marie hoots.
An impressive hookeris anchored before me. Crimson sails gently flutter in the salty breeze and traditional, shiny black tar coats the hull.
“It’s pretty.” Lo’s lightly accented voice comes from behind me as I watch the waters of Galway Bay shimmer from the pier.
I point to a vessel in the distance. “Actually, our boat’s the last one there on the end.”
Passionate locals keep the sailing tradition alive, lovingly restoring and racing the iconic red-and-black boats. However, the one we chartered for the day looks like a “before” picture. Barnacles encrust the hull, tattered sails hang in a faded mauve instead of the signature blood red. Maybe I can get a refund. It’s not even decorated for a stag do, other thanHappy Hookerin worn paint on the stern.
“I canceled what I had planned for Lark for this shipwreck waiting to happen?”
My cheeky response to Lo’s skepticism evaporates when Iturn and get a look at her. A sleeveless cotton sundress offers a peek at her cleavage before flaring out over her thick thighs. Understated and effortlessly gorgeous. She watches me stare, but I can’t help myself. Self-conscious, I tug at the too-short, too-tight GAA shorts Fionn loaned me when I realized that I’d only packed trousers. Lo’s eyes drop to my thighs and bounce away a split second later.
Saoirse strolls up and peers over her sunglasses at me. “Who invited Paul Mescal?”
Thanks, Fionn.
“Ha,” I reply dryly as she and Cielo exchange an amused glance.
Lark’s mates from the KinetiColor studio appear on the boardwalk next. Anvi’s glossy black braid is thrown over her shoulder, and the platinum-haired, androgynous Rory is decked out in lime-green board shorts.
“I brought sandwiches and TK lemonade!” The brim of Deirdre’s sun hat flops as she ambles down the wooden path, holding a cooler aloft. She’s old enough to be Callum’s mother—and she acts like it—but the wedding party wouldn’t be complete without the funeral home receptionist.
“This is ridiculous.” Lo whips out her phone. “Let me find something else. Anything else.”
But just then, Callum and Lark stride down the pier. He’s pale as a glue stick all in black and she’s sporting pink polka dots. Hand in hand with Lark, he takes in the handsome vessel with an almost boyish wonder.
“Hate to break it to you, but ours is the homely one on the end,” I tell them. “Captain McGrath told me his family has been Claddagh sailors for generations. I didn’t know.”
Anvi’s jaw drops.
Deirdre makes the sign of the cross. “The state of it!”
Callum squints at the boat a moment then breaks into a grin. “B-b-brilliant.”
Lo’s eyes dart to mine in disbelief. Perhaps this isn’t so bad after all.
Lark uncaps a tube of zinc cream. Taking care not to get it on Callum’s glasses, she thumbs a thick white smear across his nose. It makes him look like the unfortunate victim of seagull target practice, but there’s something about the gesture that makes me stop and watch as he kisses her on the cheek in thanks. When was the last time someone touched me in such a tender way?
Naturally, when I turn my head, the first thing I see is Lo.
