Page 88 of Weekends with You

“Oh, so you’ve nothing to do with Lucy not coming back to our room, then?” Liv asked.

“What Lucy does is her business,” Hen said. “Who knows what she gets up to? Quite a mystery, that one.”

I held my lip between my teeth to control the idiotic grin trying to force itself onto my face. My cheeks surely matched the roast tomatoes on the table, but I could hardly fight that, either. At that point, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to fight anything anymore.

“And does this mystery have anything to share with the crowd?” Liv asked, smiling at me and holding out an invisible microphone.

“If I did, how would I remain a mystery?”

I was met with a collectiveboo,but I was too hung up on catching Henry’s smile out of the corner of my eye to care. Regardless of what they thought they knew, Henry and I had something to share between just the two of us, and that was all that mattered to me in that moment. That, and the steaming buffet of food calling my name.

“Anyway, I thought we would just spend the day in town,” Finn said, refocusing the lot of us and giving Henry and me a moment of reprieve. “It isn’t much, but there’s some shopping and one single pub I think you’ll fancy.”

“Right, well, I’m going to need a nap first,” said Jan, leaning back in his chair and throwing his napkin on the table.

“You literally just woke up,” Liv said.

“Yes, Liv, and then I ate more than your body weight in sausage, and now I need to be sleeping again,” he said, as if he were talking to a child.

“Gross,” she laughed. “Well, I just need to put my face on, then I’m ready to do whatever it is we’re doing.”

“Aye, of course. What would a day in the Irish countryside be without a full face of makeup?” Henry teased.

“Excuse you,” she snapped. “You won’t be teasing when I look fit and you look, well, however it is you look,” she said, then shuffled out of the kitchen in her plush slippers. Margot and Jan offered applause, and Henry dropped his head into his folded arms on the table.

“She’s got teeth, that one,” Margot said, standing and pushing her chair in. “Jan, get dressed, you big baby. We’ll get you some coffee and you’ll be good as new.” He groaned and rose to join her, and they both disappeared upstairs.

The rest of us followed suit, taking our time under hot showers, finding the right layers for Ireland’s unpredictable spring weather. There was still a damp chill in the air, so I settled on a light puffer coat and a pair of black patent boots that doubled as wellies.

Finn rallied us in the room with the fireplace like a college tour guide before we headed out. “Everyone have yer shit together?” he asked. “Town isn’t exactly close, and you lot aren’t keen on leaving a pub early, so we won’t be back for quite a while.”

“Cheers, mate,” Henry said on behalf of the group.

“Follow me, then.” Finn led us through a door we hadn’t been through before.

“Finn,” I started. “If town isn’t close, how are we getting—”

“Voilà!” Finn flicked on the light, and a garage stretched out before us. He framed a 1999 Renault Grand Scénic minivan with his arms like he was on a game show, and we stood in silence. The jade-green paint was chipping off to reveal rust and bare metal, and one side mirror was missing entirely.

“Finn, are you having a laugh, mate?” Cal asked. “Were you even born when this thing was made?”

“Aye, Cal. Nice of you to get a sense of humor for the weekend,” Finn said, but Cal only laughed. “All right, get in, arseholes. Unless somebody’s got a better idea?” He had us there. We piled in and Finn yanked the van into gear, driving us down unpaved roads, past farms and swamps, and, eventually, into town.

The town center was as quaint and charming as anything else we’d seen so far, perhaps with a bit more emphasis on quaint. A variety of faded colorful shops and boutiques ran down two roads that intersected at a statue of a saint on a horse. Finn had no idea which saint it was and seemed to think it ridiculous that we’d ask.

We first entered an antique jewelry store, which was so small it was a miracle all eight of us fit inside. The walls glittered with gems in every color: emerald, ruby, sapphire. Odds and ends in the process of being restored littered the countertops, and an old woman wearing a headlamp stood behind the cash register, barely able to see over the top. She was draped in velvet of the same tones as the jewels, and her accessories clanged around in a discordant symphony as she worked. Jan whispered to me that she was as much of an antique as her wares, and I had to stifle my laughter.

“Well, I think this is where I’ll be spending the rest of the day,” Margot said, running her fingertips along a mannequin adorned in a silk robe and walnut-size fake diamonds.

“We should have known,” Finn laughed. “Take good care of her, Helene.” He pointed at the old woman behind the counter, who did nothing more than nod in agreement.

“Is this one of those towns where everyone knows everyone’s name and everyone’s family and everyone’s business?” I asked Finn when we stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Aye, you mean a small town in Ireland?” Finn joked. “It’sa nice community. They don’t have much else to do other than watch the sky turn from rain to sun and back again, so minding each other’s business passes the time.”

“Doesn’t that drive everyone crazy?” I couldn’t fathom the whole town knowing what I was up to without having told them myself. How did people exist in a place with no privacy?

“Nah,” he said. “It’s not so bad. Nothing wrong with people caring about ye or being interested in yer business. We’re all family here.” He wasn’t looking at me as he spoke. “And that’s why I love the warehouse so much,” he continued. “It’s kind of like a small town. We know each other’s business whether we want to or not. We’re family there, too.”

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