Page 6 of An Irish Summer

“Thanks, Helen,” I said, fearing I’d hardly said it enough since she announced the opportunity.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” she said, waving me off. “Just a little summer work, that’s all.”

“Not just for the job. For everything. The years at O’Shea’s, this apartment, for looking out for me even after you fired me,” I joked, trying to cover the wobble in my voice with a laugh. “I don’t think I ever thanked you properly.”

“Go over there and make me proud,” she said. “That’s how you can thank me. Do good work for Lori, and don’t make me regret recommending you.” We laughed quietly, not quite looking at each other. “And go easy on yourself, will you, Chelsea? Iknow this might not be ideal but try to get something out of it. You might surprise yourself.”

“Yeah,” I said, thinking she was wrong but hoping she was right.

After another silent moment looking at the empty apartment, Helen closed the door: an action as literal as it was metaphorical. In just a few short days another door would be opened, and I would be on the other side.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of buying rain gear, combing the travel section of the drugstore, and shoving the last of my things into suitcases. I spent more time than I cared to admit weighing and taking things out and weighing again. The packing was nearly as stressful as the move itself.

“I would be excited if I were you,” Ada said on my last night home, the two of us sharing a bottle of wine on my parents’ couch. “Who doesn’t love a good adventure?”

“Me,” I said, pouring a sizable swig into my mouth. “Adventures stress me out. Maybe you should go instead.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. Let’s think of at least one thing you can be excited about. Besides the boring job stuff. Come on,” she said, putting her glass on the table and turning to face me.

“This feels like a therapy exercise,” I said. “Do we have to?”

“Don’t make me make it five.”

“Fine,” I said, crossing my legs under me and turning to face her. “One thing...” I narrowed my eyes, and she gave me a smug nod in return.

“I, uh, I don’t have to pay for breakfast anymore?” I tried. “Or rent?”

“Okay,” Ada said, trying to maintain her enthusiasm. “That’s...something! Are there any other perks besides free breakfast and no rent?”

I thought for a minute, trying to think of something real. If Ada was patient enough to tolerate my bullshit, the least I could do was take her exercise seriously. It was for my own good, after all.

“I guess I’ll probably learn a lot,” I said eventually, slowly, like I was testing the idea. “I haven’t really traveled on my own, and I’ve obviously never worked in a hostel, so I’ll probably learn at least something about myself and my career while I’m there.”

“Yes!” Ada said, beaming. Her smile alone made me glad I played along. “Look at you. Already embracing your new-life life.”

I laughed, returning to my wine. “I’ve hardly done anything yet,” I said.

“Everyone has to start somewhere.”

Normally someone as chronically optimistic as Ada would get under my skin, but she had been such a fixture of my upbringing that I had long since gotten used to it. Maybe in this case I could even learn a thing or two.

We spent the rest of the night with low-budget Netflix rom-coms, a second bottle of wine, and nonsense chatter to avoid talking about how much we would miss each other. It was only a few months, but it was the longest Ada and I would be apart since college, which felt significant.

“All right, this is it then, isn’t it?” she asked as we made our way to the foyer, prolonging our goodbye.

“Don’t make it sound so final.” I forced a laugh, and she smiled in return. “I’m coming back, you know.”

“You say that now,” she said, “but what if you fall in love with Ireland and never want to come home? Or worse, what if you fall in love with a person and never want to come home?”

“Relax,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I can assure you; I will do neither.” I may have been open to finding love in Boston, but I had no interest in finding love in Ireland. What sense did it make to fall for someone in a place I only planned to spend the summer?

“If you say so,” she said, opening her arms to me. I stepped into the space, and we hugged for a long time, pulling away only to laugh at our own drama. “And you’re sure you’ve packed everything you need? Toothbrush? Outlet converters?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said. “Triple-checked. Which you know because you were there.”

“You know, I’ve heard the Irish are sarcastic people. You’ll fit in just fine,” she said, and I rolled my eyes. “Good luck, Chels. Text me as soon as you can once you’re there, okay? I want to know you made it safe. And I want to hear about how terrible the communal bathroom is.”

“Not helping,” I said, shoving her toward the door. “But you know I will.” We hugged once more, said goodbyes and I-love-yous, and blew a hundred kisses to each other as she made her way to her car. I watched her taillights disappear down the street, missing her already. How was I going to survive in a new environment without my best friend? Or any friends, for that matter? I shook the thought from my head, knowing full well if I didn’t, it would keep me up all night.

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