“I was just going to walk since it’s so nice. You could walk with me. If you want to, of course.”
“Even better,” he says with a smile.
Standing, he offers his hand to me. This shouldn’t make the butterflies in my stomach flit around so much, but I place my hand in his, and he gently pulls me from the chair. Expecting him to release my hand, I’m surprised when he loops it through the crook of his arm.Swoon.
With my free hand, I quickly send a text to the group message thread that I’m headed home and I will talk to them tomorrow. The speed in which they respond, demanding to know where Eamon and I disappeared to, is astounding. I ignore all of them.Busybodies.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the beautiful night. With autumn just around the corner, the days are still warm and humid from the ocean air, but the evenings are cooler. One of the main things I love about living in North Carolina is the lack of the brutal winters I’m used to back home. The temperature can dip, but very rarely do we get freezing temps or snow. I hate winter. December through February in the Midwest are brutal and feel like they last forever. I always dreamed of living in a warmer climate growing up. I begged Mom for years to move to the coast, but we could never make it work financially, and then she was diagnosed with lung cancer.
As if reading my mind, Eamon says, “So tell me about your family.”
“There’s not much to tell,” I reply. “I never knew my father, so it was just Mom and me. We lived in Missouri until I moved here four years ago. I have extended family, but Mom never wanted me around them, and after her funeral, I understood why.
Eamon squeezes my hand in his arm gently. “Can I ask how she died?”
“She had lung cancer. Smoking was her only downfall. I tried for years to get her to quit, but she kept insisting that she didn’t smoke that often and her lungs were fine. I guess, to her at least, smoking two packs a week wasn’tthat bad.Compared to some, I guess it isn’t, but it was enough to kill her,” I say sadly.
“I’m sorry, Norah. Truly.”
“Thanks. I miss her. She was my best friend and constant encouragement.” I pause a moment before saying, “Your turn. Tell me about your family.”
I feel him tense up, so I stop walking and turn to face him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I get it. Families can be extremely difficult.”
He nods and looks down at his feet. I can see his brow furrowing and have the urge to smooth it out with my fingers before running them through his dark hair.
“Well, you already know that I lost my Da. He was in a car accident on his way home from work one day. We were all devastated, but none more than my Mam. They were soul mates.” Eamon smiles softly before continuing. “He was a good man. Always loved his family and worked hard to provide. We were never without.”
“I can’t even imagine what that was like for your Mom. Losing a parent is awful, but to lose the love of your life?” I shudder at the thought.
“Aye, even though she was completely wrecked she always made sure my sister and I were taken care of and loved.”
We start walking again.
“She sounds amazing,” I tell him honestly. A quiet moment passes, then I ask, “What part of Ireland are you from?”
“Kilkenny. Born and raised.” A group of drunk college guys pour out of a bar and Eamon pulls me back before they can run me over. “When did you go to Ireland?” he asks when the path clears and we resume meandering down the sidewalk.
“After Mom died. I didn’t start college until I came here. The year I would have, she got sick. Two years later, she died. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I sold the house and most of everything in it. I bought a ticket to Ireland, and away I went.”
“I can’t believe you went by yourself,” he tells me, shaking his head.
“Yep. It was a little terrifying at first, but I fell in love with that country. I can’t wait to go back,” I say dreamily.
Eamon smiles in response but doesn’t comment, which surprises me some. The few Irish people I’ve encountered in the States are always quick to tell me how wonderful it is.
“Tell me about your sister?” I prompt him.
He tenses up again and a grimace appears on his handsome face. “She’s a few years younger than me, but we aren’t as close as we used to be.”
“Oh,” I mumble, “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m an only child, so I can’t really understand what that would be like.”
We go back to walking in companionable silence. My pale yellow house comes into view. I love how close it is to O’Nelly’s. If I cut through the park, I can be out the door and at the pub in less than fifteen minutes. We stroll up the street to the sidewalk in front of my house.
“Thanks for walking me home.”
“Thank you for letting me,” Eamon murmurs.
I smile and point to the blue house next to mine. “That’s Layla’s.”
