Page 98 of Since We're Here
Two men order pints of Guinness—and by now I’m used to patrons calling itthe black stuff—and I smile at them as I pour. The pub is quiet in the middle of the week. Patrick should try to get some groups to host recurring events here, like book clubs, or girls’ night out, or even a hiking or running club. I’ll have to suggest it to him.
After I push the perfect pints of Guinness—light tan foam sitting on top of the deep brown liquid—I pick up my phone to answer Reese’s texts. I should tell them something more. It’s time they at least know that I’m not coming back to New Jersey before the road trip.
Me
So many questions. :)
Me
Can you trust me to manage my life? Please?
Reese
I suppose I could try, lol
Me
I’ll likely meet you all in Ireland directly from Saint Lucia
Reese
Really? You must need a new set of clothing??
Oh, sister. I cackle to myself, looking up quickly to see if the two men noticed. They didn’t.
Reese might be surprised at how one could make a Caribbean wardrobe work in Ireland with the addition of a few key items of warm clothing. I’m basically a local now.
Stella
Want to swing by London and travel together? I checked and there are direct flights to London from Saint Lucia, but none from Saint Lucia to Dublin
Reese
I’m so proud of you, Mads. Doing so awesome in school after all these years!
Great. A reminder how much of a disappointment my past is. Reese’s pride in me stings. Pride in something that I’m not doing.
And Stella... She will be hurt when she finds out I was so close to her all this time.
Me
That would be awesome, Stella! But let me finalize my travel plans first. Gotta run!!
Too many exclamation points. Does that make it look like I’m lying? But they have no reason to suspect, which almost makesit worse. I slide my phone back under the bar, since this dress doesn’t have pockets.
“Maddie!” A whoosh of cool air sweeps into the bar, Noreen in the center of it.
“Hey. Glad you stopped in.” I have a bunch of unanswered texts from the estate agent about whether or not I’m renewing my lease.
“What’s the decision? No one is waiting to book the flat, but your lease is technically up this weekend, and with tourist season approaching, we’ll certainly have some short-term tenants.”
She slides onto a barstool.
“I’ll stay for another month.”
“Oh, lovely.”
“I already changed my flight.” I practically whisper to her, my co-conspirator.
