Page 2 of Twist of Fate
I look out the window and can’t find a reason to disagree. Sunlight glistens over endless blue water as it rolls onto the rugged beach. I can’t remember the last time I saw the ocean.
About twenty minutes later, we are driving up to a beautiful seaside hotel. I step out of the cab and am immediately hit with the briny scent of saltwater. I take a deep breath through my lungs as my mom thanks the cab driver and greets the doorman.
She wasn’t lying. The Irish Sea winks out in the distance. There is a scattering of shops and restaurants, all stone, with awnings painted the same dusty blue as the hotel behind us. Flower boxes line the streets as people mill about, enjoying a carefree Monday morning in late spring. It’s truly breathtaking.
“I’ve left your bags safely with registration?—”
I turn a bit too quickly and nearly collide with the cab driver as he returns from the lobby. His hand snakes out and steadies me, and I gulp in a breath. He smiles faintly as I quickly realize that I haven’t said anything. I press my lips together, squelching the embarrassment painting my cheeks. “Oh, um. Right.” An awkward silence follows.
Am I supposed to tip him? Do they do that here?
I know that in some countries, tipping is considered rude. I look over toward my mom, who has somehow inserted herself into a group of hotel guests, and they’re gabbing about plants and whatever else old people talk about.
Cool, cool. So, I guess I’m on my own.
“Um,” I begin to say, but before I can even make a move toward my purse, he handsmesomething instead.Okay…
I don’t know much, but I’m fairly certain the tipping almost never goes in reverse, right?
“Enjoy your holiday.”
My fingers curl around his as I take the slip of paper from him and swallow nervously. His accent is as thick as his voice is deep. “Thank you.” His eyes meet mine, and I wait for it. That flutter. That exhilarating feeling of connection you feel when meeting someone new.
But I don’t.
After he walks away and slips back into his cab, I look down at the piece of paper, already knowing what it is.
Not a tip, but a phone number.
One I already know I won’t call.
As much as my mom jokes, if I knew all my problems could be solved by a meaningless fling or a quick one-night stand, I would have downloaded Tinder weeks ago.
But a one-night stand is the last thing I need, especially when it’s the reason my life imploded in the first place.
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask for the third time as my mom yawns for the fourth.
“No, Ash. I told you earlier. I don’t mind if you go out and do things by yourself. In fact, I strongly encourage it. I’ve been all over Dublin, and on Wednesday, we’ll only be in the city for a short time. So, go and explore. Be young!” She raises a fist in the air for dramatic flair, and I laugh.
As soon as we got up to our hotel room, she practically collapsed onto her bed. All that energy she had from traveling vanished in an instant. What’s left is a tired, frailer version of the woman who raised me. It’s a version of her I or anyone else rarely sees. She doesn’t like feeling her age and is constantly trying to prove it’s just a number by cramming her schedule with volunteer work, social activities, and travel.
Live life to the fullest and all that.
I look at her reflection in the mirror as I attempt to fix my plane-wrecked hair with a curling iron.
Her gray-blond hair is swept to the side in a loose braid. Like most things in her life, she keeps it long because she refuses to be a stereotypical old woman. Warm eyes stare back at me as she smiles from one of the queen beds. “Are you gonna call the cab driver?” she teases.
I should have never told her about that damn number.
“No.”
“Why not? It wouldn’t be out of the blue. You need a ride, after all.” She gives a little shrug as she flips through the room service menu. She’s changed into her pajamas and is snuggled under the covers. It’s barely seven o’clock, and I doubt she’ll stay awake long enough to order something. Her head will hit that pillow the second I walk out the door.
Part of me wants to join in and dive into my suitcase, grab my own pajamas, and follow her lead into slumberland. But sleep is complicated for me on a normal day, and life has been anything but lately. I need to stay awake and adjust to the time difference. If I don’t, I’ll be wide awake at three in the morning, and I’ll never go back to sleep.
So, a little solo exploring in Dublin it is.
