Page 4 of An Irish Summer

“Is that even something you might like?” my mother asked. “I know you like hospitality, honey, but would you really like working in a hostel? It’s a far cry from O’Shea’s. And don’t you think you’d be homesick? You have such a nice life here, and I just—”

“You don’t think I could do it.”

“What?” She set her wineglass on the table. “Chels, that’s not what I’m saying; I’m... it’s just that—”

“It’s just that you don’t think I could move to a foreign country for the summer. You don’t think I have it in me.”

I didn’t even want to move to a foreign country for the summer, did I? I thought it sounded like a terrible idea from the minute it left Helen’s lips. But that was before I realized my back was against the wall.

“I just don’t think you’d be happy doing it, that’s all,” she conceded. “And I want you to be happy, honey.”

I swallowed the groan that threatened to escape my throat.

“Have you talked to Ada about it yet?” my dad asked, saving me from the direction this conversation was headed.

Ada had been my best friend since we met at the local summer camp when we were kids. The only real time we spent apart was four years of undergrad, but when we returned to the city after graduation, it was like we had never been apart at all.

“Not yet,” I said. I’d been too stunned to call her this afternoon, and I wasn’t looking forward to rehashing the news again. But I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was going to say. She was one of those people who trusted her intuition and her intuition often favored the bold.

“Might not be a bad idea to give her a call,” he suggested, sipping his wine with raised eyebrows. “Get another perspective.” He nodded toward the door, giving me an excuse to get out of this kitchen and clear my head. Coming here wasn’t exactly a mistake, but it wasn’t quite the comfort I’d hoped it would be. If anything, I was leaving more confused.

Chapter 2

“Go to Ireland, Chels,” Ada said down the line as if it was the most obvious decision in the world. I was lying on my couch, which wouldn’t be my couch for much longer, counting the ceiling tiles while I waited for her to continue. “I mean, it’s kind of a no-brainer, isn’t it?” She sounded out of breath, and I wondered if she was on a run.

“Are you working out?”

“Ew, no. I’m walking up that big hill to the Whole Foods,” she said. “Stop deflecting. You called for advice, and I’m giving it to you. Take the Ireland gig.”

“Should I be concerned by how eager you are to get rid of me?” I knew I was still stalling, but I was afraid of what might happen if I stopped.

“Very funny,” she said, and I could hear her eye roll over the phone. “Honestly, Chels, the fact that you asked my opinion at all, when you definitely knew what I was going to say, tells me you already know you want to go.” I made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Seriously. What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know, maybe that I don’t know anything about thecountry? Or maybe that my entire life is here, in Boston, where I want it to be?”

“Okay, first of all, there’s Google,” she said, and I laughed, despite myself. “And this gig isn’t forever. You’ll be able to be back to your Boston life in no time. Which, might I remind you, at this moment doesn’t consist of an apartment or a job, so.”

“Any more salt you’d like to rub in the wound?”

“I’m just saying. You have to rebuild some of your life here anyway. So might as well do it from over there.”

“How am I supposed to rebuild my lifeherefrom three thousand miles away?”

“Did you call me for advice, or did you call me to complain? This hill is hard enough without having to argue with you, so I’m happy to hang up if you don’t want to talk about this.”

“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry,” I said, a little embarrassed by my tone. “I called for advice.”

“Good,” she said, and I was relieved when I heard the smile return to her voice. “Then my advice is this: take the gig. We have technology now, you know. You can look online for a job and an apartment here while you’re over there, so that excuse doesn’t exactly hold up. It’s not every day you have the opportunity to move to Ireland.”

“And the opportunity to move to Ireland is something I should want?” I asked. Ada scoffed so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Oh, don’t scoff like you’ve been there and you know all about it,” I said, calling her bluff before she even had a chance to speak. “You’re a city girl just as much as I am.”

“Okay, so maybe I haven’t been there, but it seems beautiful, doesn’t it? The grass always looks so green.”

“That’s because all the photos you’ve seen are probably on Instagram,” I said, and we both laughed. “Besides, what am I supposed to do with green grass?”

“Some time outside wouldn’t kill you, you know.”

We both knew I wasn’t exactly the tree-hugging type, but she was probably right. Any time I’d spent outside in the past few years was just a side effect of living in a walkable city, despite the abundance of parks in the area. I wouldn’t admit it to her, but fresh air might do me some good.

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