Page 10 of Since We're Here
I’ll explore after coffee, of course! These are sunset pictures from last night
I hate that I’m lying to them. But I’m in way too deep.
I take a long, hot shower and draft Oliver’s friend an email as I eat some buttered bread and drink a gallon of water. I appreciate Noreen leaving some things for me... but good lord, I need coffee. And as soon as I send this email, I’ll venture out and find some.
To: Patrick McNulty
From: Madison Elizabeth Hart
Date: Saturday, March 1
Subject: Here in Dingle!
Hello Patrick, I’m in Dingle—surprise! I had some time free up on my calendar and thought I’d come right to the source to plan the Best Road Trip Ever (trademark pending) for all of us. Reese and Oliver deserve an amazing pre-wedding vacation, don’t you think? Anyway, it’s a secret that I’m here in Ireland, so please don’t tell Oliver or my sister.
Do you have time to meet up to talk potential itineraries? Everyone’s booked their flights to and from Ireland, so I need to fill the twelve nights they’re here with something amazing. They arrive in Dublin on Friday, April 18! Let’s do this!
Can we meet up for coffee? A drink? Maybe you can show me around Dingle?
Thanks a bunch,
Maddie
After adding a dozen emojis, I press send. There. That’s done.
I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do with the time between now and the road trip. A month here in Dingle... then what?
I need caffeine. And headache meds.
The flat is on Main Street, and as I head down the stairs to street level, I open my map app to see what else is around besides the pub and the coffee shop Noreen mentioned. I need to buy myself a hat and some gloves, and I suppose I should’ve dressed in something other than a long dress and light puffy jacket. Like a full-body snowsuit.
I shade my face from O’Brien’s as I pass, as if the hot bartender will be peering out the pub at this very moment.
He’s not.
Dingle Brew is a cozy little café, with only a few tables pressed up against the front window. The smell of coffee beans and baked goods is delightful, and I order the largest size coffee they have and a buttery chocolate croissant.
“You a tourist? A little early in the season?” The barista is a pretty, middle-aged woman with shoulder-length brown hair,shallow wrinkles on her forehead, and well-established laugh lines around her mouth.
“I’m not really a tourist. Well, kinda. I’m here for a month.”
“Are you now?” She raises her eyebrows. “Welcome then.”
“My name’s Maddie.”
“I’m Maria. I’ll see you around then, Maddie.”
Another friend! Hooray! But I don’t want to linger, as she might do what Noreen did and ask questions about the quest I’m on in Dingle.
A man behind me steps forward and I smile at Maria before leaving the coffee shop, alternating ripping off pieces of the delicious chocolate croissant with chugging the hot drink.
Down another side street, a giant park sprawls in front of me. I glance down at my map app. Dingle Town Park. There’s a soccer game happening, and I absolutely shiver just thinking of how cold they must be in their athletic shorts and jerseys.
I pop the last bite of croissant in my mouth and wander closer. What else do I have to do? Patrick hasn’t responded to my email—it’s only been fifteen minutes—and I have literally no plans for the next, oh, two months.
For the hundredth time since boarding the plane to Dublin, I wonder what I’m doing here.
There’s a small crowd of people watching the men play, and I pause far enough away from the sideline so as not to be weird. It’s mostly women—probably all wives and girlfriends—and a couple of children. They’re all bundled up.
