Page 58 of An Irish Summer

“As for Ireland,” she said, dragging me from my introspection and back to the interview. “You’re willing to relocate?”

“Oh, I don’t live here,” I said. “I mean, I do right now, but it’s only for the summer. I’ll be home to Boston in a month or so. And I’ll be there for good.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I must have somehow overlooked that this was only temporary. My apologies. I’ll make a note of your brief, uh, departure from your career in Boston and your intention to return.”

Was she on the phone with my mother before the interview, asking for tips on passive aggression? I knew this was a risk, but surely I wasn’t the first woman in her twenties to move away for a summer while she sorted her life out.

After a few awkward goodbyes we ended the call, agreeing they’d be in touch next week, and my thoughts continued to swirl. Was I finally defending my choice to come to the Wanderer? Collin’s smiling face from the driver’s seat, the Atlantic roaring behind him, flashed across my mind. The unfamiliar feeling that Ididn’t want the summer to endlingered in my chest.

No. I couldn’t even entertain the thought. Boston was the right call, and one mildly awkward interview wasn’t going to deter me from my plan.

I considered updating Ada right away, calling and telling her the interview was a bust, but I decided against it. We had another staff bonding activity tonight, and I promised Flo I would join as soon as the interview was over. Above all, I needed a drink.

I knew Collin was going to be at the function, and I wasgrateful I didn’t have time to dwell on what it would be like to see him after the kiss. Just thinking about it made my chest flutter, and any more time I spent on it would have me pulling out a diary like I was in middle school. The interview had been the only time I’d spent in the past twenty-four hours thinking about anything other than how much I wanted to kiss him again, and now that I no longer had that to distract me, I was hopelessly single-minded.

Fortunately, I found Collin sitting on a makeshift stage tuning a banjo the second I walked into the multipurpose room. Was there anything this man couldn’t do? He didn’t see me right away, so I watched for a minute as he plucked strings and listened, turning knobs with nimble fingers.

He looked up at the exact second Flo called my name, and we made eye contact just long enough to ignite every nerve ending and send a raging blush to my cheeks.

“Thank god you made it,” Flo said as I approached, kissing both of my cheeks. “I was getting nervous.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I said. “Just finished up the interview.”

“How’d it go?”

I shook my hand side to side. “Eh,” I said, searching for the words. “I felt like they were judging me for leaving Boston after I was let go.”

“You were just giving yourself a hard time about the same thing, no?”

“Florence!”

“What? It’s true,tesoro.Hard to convince them you didn’t run away, if you can’t even convince yourself. Here, help me with this.” She handed me a case of beer, and I was grateful for her short attention span. Regardless, she was right. If I wasberating myself for leaving Boston, why didn’t I expect others to do the same?

“I didn’t run away,” I said, apparently willing to finish the conversation after all. “I’m going back. I’m just doing something else while I sort my life out.” I busied myself with arranging the cans in a cooler as I spoke.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Chels,” she said. “I actually did run away. And it was the best decision I ever made. Who am I to judge? Also,” she continued, “selfishly, I’m glad the interview was bad. I’m not ready for you to leave the Wanderer.”

“I’m leaving either way,” I reminded her.

“So you say,” she said. “But do you have a backup plan? If you don’t find a job, I mean. Then what?”

An image of my parents’ office flashed behind my eyes, and I swallowed hard to stop a lump from forming in my throat.

“I’m going to find a job.” We stood in silence for an uncomfortable beat, but I knew exactly what she was thinking. I was trying to convincemyselfthat was true, not Flo. And I wasn’t convincing at all.

“Remind me what all this is about?” I asked, gesturing to the stage and trying to change the subject for good.

“Variety show,” she said. “Meaning: terrible stand-up comedy, some decent instrumentals, and whatever other talents are running wild in this place. And before you panic, it isn’t mandatory. You can just sit in the back and get drunk with me.”

Was I that predictable that she knew I was going to panic? And was I so boring that I clearly didn’t have a talent for a variety show?

The rest of the staff rolled in after a few minutes, and Lars started a sound check.

“All right, all right, welcome,” he said as everyone filed in. “Find yourselves a bevvy at the back and grab a seat for the Wanderer’s annual Summer Staff Variety Show!”

Collin had since disappeared backstage, and I was grateful Flo hadn’t seen me looking at him. I hadn’t told her about the kiss, but I had a bad feeling it was only a matter of time before she—and the rest of our coworkers—found out.

Once everyone was settled, Lars welcomed the first act to the stage.

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