“Go on, spread the butter on nice and thick, and take a bite. Trust me.”
Hesitantly, she picked up the knife and slathered the creamy yellow butter on the bread.
“There is nothing like Irish butter on Irish brown bread,” Bonnie encouraged.
Taking a tentative nibble, she was surprised by the soft but dense texture and then the burst of flavor. She instantly went in for a bigger bite, her stomach rumbling encouragement. “This is amazing,” she said, her mouth still partially full.
“Told you. Now try the soup,” Bonnie said, picking up her sandwich.
Dipping her spoon in, Penny’s mouth watered at the creaminess of it. “Oh, my God. I could live on this. The fish is so fresh. It’s salty but not overpowering like you’re tasting the ocean.”
“Less talking, more eating.”
They both tucked in, settling into their own quiet contentment as the sounds of patrons chatting, silverware clinking, and the cash register pinging went on around them. It was hard for Penelope to believe that for everyone around her, it was just a typical day. To her, the world had been flipped upside down. The food was definitely helping, though.
“Can I try one of your fries?’ Penny eventually asked.
“Chips.”
“Huh?”
“They’re called chips here. You know, like fish and chips.”
“Oh, right,” Penny nodded as she reached out to take one, only to find her hand gently slapped away by Bonnie’s.
“Hey!”
“Not so fast. I’ll swap you three chips for a bit of your bread.”
Rubbing her abused hand, Penny made a show of deliberating. “All right. Sounds fair, but those chips better be good.”
“They are.” Bonnie’s eyebrows danced playfully. “There are so many other things I can’t wait for you to try.”
Reading the look on Bonnie’s face, she knew to tread carefully. “That sounds great. But maybe not all today.”
“Oh, I suppose not.” Bonnie popped one last chip into her mouth before looking up with a mischievous smile. “But I really think we should both get a Baileys and coffee after this.”
“Is that wise?” Penny asked doubtfully.
“Hear me out. It’s a healthy combination of alcohol to relax us and coffee to keep us going. It is totally a wise decision,” Bonnie said with conviction.
“Luckily for you, I don’t feel I can logically argue that right now, mostly because I’m exhausted. I’m in.”
Chapter 4
“What time is it again?” Penny asked for probably the fifth time, stepping out of the dullness of the cloudy day into the deeper shadows of the bar.
Bonnie had agreed to skip the tour of the city center on the condition that they go sit somewhere other than the house for at least an hour. She assured Penny she really wasn’t trying to be a jerk; it was honestly the best way to handle the jetlag. They agreed upon a pub that would be only a fifteen-minute walk home.
“You’d be better off if you stopped asking that question and just went with it.”
“I can’t help it. I feel like it could be five o’clock in the morning just as easily as five o’clock at night.” Looking around the empty establishment wasn’t any more orientating.
“Well, pick one and go with it,” Bonnie said, grabbing her arm and guiding her across the wooden floor in the direction of the bar. She pulled out a tall stool, slid onto it, and then craned her head back and forth until she spotted the bartender.
Penny followed suit, with a bit more effort. She awkwardly hefted herself onto the stool, feeling the full extent of her exhaustion as her limbs gave out on her. Her legs dangled until she finally found a metal bar to rest them on, then she plonked her elbows onto the space in front of her, leaning her head heavily into her palms.
The bar was old, with red brick walls, dulled by time and patronage. Black and white photos of Ireland were placed throughout, no doubt hiding scarier spots behind them. With aglance, Penny could see that no amount of cleaning would really improve the place. But that was part of its charm. Not that it was dirty either. The bar where her elbows rested felt clean, and there was the faint aroma of chemical cleaners in the air. It was weathered in a way that made it quaint and comfortable.
