“To Cronin’s,” Finn announced as they trooped back out.
They headed down the street that ran parallel to the hill they were on before turning right and taking the path that led down a decidedly steeper road. That was one thing Penny was discovering: Ireland wasn’t all gently rolling hills; it had some steep climbs as well.
“Which friend owns the house?” Bonnie asked as they walked. “It’s so close to the place we used to stay as kids.”
“Declan. He inherited it from his nan.”
“Was he one of the boys you used to run around with here?”
“Yeah. We met when we were about fourteen. Around the time I stopped wanting to hang out with my little cousin when she came to visit,” Finn answered guiltily.
“I was only two years younger.” The sting of childhood hurts could still be heard in her voice.
“It seemed like a lot more than that at the time. Besides, you cramped my style when I was trying to meet girls.”
She gave him a playful shove. “Mmmm-hmmm.” But the smile on her face didn’t last. It slid off, replaced by a sad yearning as her steps slowed. “I could have used you then,” she said softly.
Finn’s steps slowed until his pace matched hers. He draped a companionable arm over her shoulder. “Fourteen-year-old boys can be very selfish and unaware of others’ needs. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“We stopped coming so much for a while. By the time we came back, you were practically grown,” the sadness in Bonnie’s voice was more palpable now.
“You never should have stopped coming.” Finn’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. “This was your home. Her time here should never have affected your visits. This was always your place to come.”
“I know,” Bonnie agreed. “But neither Dad nor I knew how to handle it. That’s why we moved to Michigan from Illinois after the divorce. We picked up and left all the memories behind. Kind of like what I’m doing….”
They rounded a corner, and the little town came into view ahead of them.
As one, they stopped to take it in.
“It hasn’t changed,” Bonnie’s voice caught in her throat.
Penny turned, immediately ready to be there for her friend. What she saw took her off guard.
The wind caught Bonnie’s hair, blowing her long strawberry-blonde locks around playfully, and her green eyes lit up with excitement. Wearing her wool Irish sweater, she could have been on an ad campaign for Irish tourism. She bounced on her feet as if unable to hold still. “Come on,” excitement lit her words as she picked up her pace, and Finn’s arm slid from her shoulder.
Penny followed behind more slowly, eyes wide, wanting to memorize this moment and hold it in her mind forever. There was Cronin’s, the bar they were headed towards, a Centra for your basic shopping and quick conveniences next to it, and a café across the street from them. But just on the other side of the caféwas the water, where all the boats were moored. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the saltiness in the air.
“So maybe I should mention that I’ve never had mussels before.”
“What?” Both Bonnie and Finn swung their heads to look at her. “Seriously?”
“What about oysters?” Finn asked.
Penny shook her head. “Nope.”
“Scallops?”
“No.”
“Fish?” he asked, now sounding incredulous.
“Yes. Of course, I’ve had fish. I live on Lake Michigan. I just haven’t had much food from the actual sea.”
“Oh, this needs to be rectified,” Bonnie insisted.
“Definitely,” Finn agreed. “And you’ve picked the perfect place.”
Before she knew what was happening, Bonnie ushered her into a chair in the outdoor seating area of the bar while Finn headed inside to place orders for all of them.
