Page 22 of The Bossy One

As I stepped inside Marie’s house, the first thought I had waswarm. From the blond wood floor, to the light-yellow walls, to the hand-crafted quilt folded at the end of the couch, it all felt so homey. There was even a roaring fire. An archway behind the couch seemed to lead back into an equally cozy kitchen.

“Here, put her on the couch,” Marie said. “She can keep sleeping, but wake her up just enough so she knows you’re leaving. I don’t want her feeling she’s woken up in a strange place.”

I glanced at Marie with respect. It was clear the woman understood children.

Declan did as she said. Catie gave him a sleepy hug, then slumped back into the couch. By the time Declan walked out the door, she was fast asleep again.

“You’re the nanny, right? Olivia?” Marie asked.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s nice to meet more of Catie’s family.”

“Would you like a cup of tea? I figure we can have a nice chat, then you can have the morning off to do whatever you’d like while Catie and I make soda bread.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Declan had mentioned something about my taking the morning off yesterday, but then Catie had spilled a glass of apple juice I’d promptly switched focus.

I wondered if there was a café nearby I could go to. I should have brought a book. Maybe I could go by the children’s bookstore and see if Molly was there?

But once I sat down in Marie’s kitchen, I had a hard time motivating myself to leave. As I cradled a mug of tea in my hands, Marie’s lovely accent made small talk around me as I sipped the tea and let the caffeine hit my system. She told me all about how Declan had wanted to buy her something grander, but she’d known that she’d feel lonely in anything bigger. Besides, it was a short walk to the bay, and she loved the hustle and bustle of the city.

When the talk turned to baking, I found myself asking, “Do you make soda bread often?”

“Well, now and again. More often this time of year, since I’m trying to perfect it before the festival competition. More tea?”

“Sure. What type of festival?” I asked.

“Do you know that old 70s film,The Deer and the Warrior?”

I shook my head.

“Well, it’s considered quite a classic, and it was filmed in Ballybeith. Since that’s the only claim our small village has to fame, we’ve been throwing a summer festival to celebrate it ever since. It’s a weeklong affair, culminating in a big party around a bonfire.”

“And a soda bread competition,” I said.

Marie smiled. “And a soda bread competition.”

I looked around the homey kitchen, feeling a type of longing I rarely did. Most of the places I worked in were elaborate mansions. But this place—this place felt like a home.

I wondered what it would be like to stay in one place for decades, participating in local traditions.

“I’d love to learn how to make soda bread someday,” I said, feeling a little wistful.

Marie cocked her head. “Would you like to learn to, today? I assumed you’d appreciate a few hours to yourself, but if you’d like to stay…”

“Yes,” I said, a little surprised at how quickly I agreed.

Marie laughed. “That’s what I like about Americans. Always quick to say yes.” She glanced off in the direction of where Catie was still sleeping. “I didn’t realize how early this would be for Catie. Why don’t you and I start on the bread now? Then Catie can have a treat when she wakes up.”

So she taught me how to plump the raisins in a bowl of water, then measure the ingredients into a big bowl and stir. She turned on a radio, alternately chatting with me, or humming along to the music.

“So have you always lived here?” I asked.

Marie’s smile faded a bit. “No. My husband and I lived in Ballybeith for many years. It’s where Declan and Sinead grew up. But after my husband passed…well.” She poked at the dough and, apparently determining it was firm enough, she tipped the bowl over and scooped it into a round cake pan. “I stayed until Sinead graduated secondary school. But after that, I moved here. I’ll always love Ballybeith, but it’s nice to buy your groceries without anyone giving you a pitying look.”

I knew what she meant. I’d lost my own parents when I was in high school. Starting college and meeting new people had felt like a breath of fresh air.

I looked down at my own dough, wondering if Declan had been around the same age as me when he lost his dad. “I’m sorry you lost someone you loved.”

“Thank you, dear.” Marie’s smile was bittersweet, but quietly resigned. “It’s been years, but I’ll never forget what a big help Declan was. All I wanted to do was cry, but he was so strong, making sure Sinead kept up with her schoolwork, making sure we all had something to eat every night.” She fell silent. “I regret how quickly he had to grow up, but I’m proud of him too.”

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