last, she needed to think. Now, when she was wiped out? Heck, maybe that was the best time—her first reaction might be the truest one. If she had a job, even short term, she could stay around as long as it lasted. Did she want that?
Maybe
—and she was startled to find herself thinking that. Of course, that would give her more time to get to know Bridget Nolan, and her last chance to learn anything about her gran’s life before she went to Boston. That would be good. And maybe, just maybe, she should learn something more about Ireland—the real Ireland, not the shoddy caricatures. She knew that it wasn’t all shamrocks and rainbows,but what was it really? And wasn’t she Irish herself? She had a passport that said so, but she’d never really felt it, inside.
And there was nothing waiting for her at home. In fact, there was no home. She had no ties, here or there. So why not stay awhile?
Maura stood up, slid the door open as silently as she could, and slipped inside, stopping only to brush her teeth before she fell onto the bed.
And still couldn’t sleep. She had come to Ireland because her promise had made Gran happy, and she wanted to honor her memory. She had planned to spend at most a week doing her duty to Gran. She’d been so caught up in burying Gran—next to her father—and then clearing out what little there was in their apartment, that she hadn’t had time to think about what she wanted to do next.
But now she had freedom, and an unexpected opportunity. She didn’t have to rush, and if she could make enough money to cover her simple needs, she would have some breathing room to decide about her future. And it wasn’t like she was making a long-term commitment; she would be helping out, just for a bit, while she got to know the area better. Got to know people who had known her gran and her father, as a child. This would probably be her only chance, so why not take it?
Feeling obscurely reassured, she turned over and fell asleep.
Chapter 6
T he next morning Maura was awakened by the tapping of rain against the glass sliding doors. It came as a surprise, but Maura realized it shouldn’t have: it must rain all the time in Ireland, to keep all those fields so green. Still, she was glad she’d had a day of sunshine first. If it had stayed cold and grey, like the day she’d arrived, she might have turned tail and run. She lay listening to the sounds: the rain, of course, but also the clinking of pans and plates in the kitchen above, and the young voices as the Keohane children pounded down the hall and out the door. She thought she heard the rumble of a male voice as well—Ellen’s husband? She didn’t want to move, but she knew Ellen would probably be waiting breakfast on her, and surely her landlady had other things to do today.
She checked the clock: 8:00. That meant she’d had nomore than six hours of sleep, after a long day yesterday. The night before, Jimmy and Mick had offered her a job at the pub. And by the light of day she still thought she wanted it. She could stay longer. It wouldn’t be much of a vacation, working all the time, but she’d never had any vacations anyway, so nothing new there. She wouldn’t be seeing much of Ireland, but she’d never been a fan of touristy things back home in Boston, and she didn’t plan to join groups of gawping tourists here. And she’d get to know some real people.
But there were a lot of things that were murky, starting with how long Jimmy and Mick might expect her to stick around, and how much money she’d actually see from the job. She’d served in enough bars to know that it was hard work, hard on the feet and back. In Boston she’d had to fend off her share of randy drunks who thought she was an easy target. Would it be like that here?
Maybe she should talk to Mrs. Nolan about it. Maybe she should take another look at the pub: if it stood up to her inspection on a gloomy day like today, maybe there was hope.
Maybe she should get
Maybe
—and she was startled to find herself thinking that. Of course, that would give her more time to get to know Bridget Nolan, and her last chance to learn anything about her gran’s life before she went to Boston. That would be good. And maybe, just maybe, she should learn something more about Ireland—the real Ireland, not the shoddy caricatures. She knew that it wasn’t all shamrocks and rainbows,but what was it really? And wasn’t she Irish herself? She had a passport that said so, but she’d never really felt it, inside.
And there was nothing waiting for her at home. In fact, there was no home. She had no ties, here or there. So why not stay awhile?
Maura stood up, slid the door open as silently as she could, and slipped inside, stopping only to brush her teeth before she fell onto the bed.
And still couldn’t sleep. She had come to Ireland because her promise had made Gran happy, and she wanted to honor her memory. She had planned to spend at most a week doing her duty to Gran. She’d been so caught up in burying Gran—next to her father—and then clearing out what little there was in their apartment, that she hadn’t had time to think about what she wanted to do next.
But now she had freedom, and an unexpected opportunity. She didn’t have to rush, and if she could make enough money to cover her simple needs, she would have some breathing room to decide about her future. And it wasn’t like she was making a long-term commitment; she would be helping out, just for a bit, while she got to know the area better. Got to know people who had known her gran and her father, as a child. This would probably be her only chance, so why not take it?
Feeling obscurely reassured, she turned over and fell asleep.
Chapter 6
T he next morning Maura was awakened by the tapping of rain against the glass sliding doors. It came as a surprise, but Maura realized it shouldn’t have: it must rain all the time in Ireland, to keep all those fields so green. Still, she was glad she’d had a day of sunshine first. If it had stayed cold and grey, like the day she’d arrived, she might have turned tail and run. She lay listening to the sounds: the rain, of course, but also the clinking of pans and plates in the kitchen above, and the young voices as the Keohane children pounded down the hall and out the door. She thought she heard the rumble of a male voice as well—Ellen’s husband? She didn’t want to move, but she knew Ellen would probably be waiting breakfast on her, and surely her landlady had other things to do today.
She checked the clock: 8:00. That meant she’d had nomore than six hours of sleep, after a long day yesterday. The night before, Jimmy and Mick had offered her a job at the pub. And by the light of day she still thought she wanted it. She could stay longer. It wouldn’t be much of a vacation, working all the time, but she’d never had any vacations anyway, so nothing new there. She wouldn’t be seeing much of Ireland, but she’d never been a fan of touristy things back home in Boston, and she didn’t plan to join groups of gawping tourists here. And she’d get to know some real people.
But there were a lot of things that were murky, starting with how long Jimmy and Mick might expect her to stick around, and how much money she’d actually see from the job. She’d served in enough bars to know that it was hard work, hard on the feet and back. In Boston she’d had to fend off her share of randy drunks who thought she was an easy target. Would it be like that here?
Maybe she should talk to Mrs. Nolan about it. Maybe she should take another look at the pub: if it stood up to her inspection on a gloomy day like today, maybe there was hope.
Maybe she should get
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