“So do you. I love what you did to your hair.” The ginger strips of hair framing her face used to be blonde.
“Yeah, I did it for Ireland.” She leaned closer to me and her voice dropped so no one around could hear. “Do you think it looks cheesy?”
I shook my head. “No, no. You look great.”
We stood in silence, smiling like a couple in love. “I can’t believe I made it.” Marty flipped her hair over her shoulder, and we stepped to the side to allow pedestrians to pass. “It’s so beautiful, and I love the accent. Have you fallen in love with an Irish man?”
I nervously giggled and turned my head away to hide the redness I could feel traveling up my cheeks.
“Are you staying here forever?” she asked.
“I wish. I love it here.” Looking behind her, I couldn’t help but wonder who was in the bathroom. “We’ll get a cab to my apartment. My Irish roommate has an air mattress, so you’ll be sleeping in the living room for a few nights. I hope you don’t mind. You can either crash there or on the couch. We don’t have a lot of room, but everyone is cool with you coming. Tomorrow, a few Irish friends are coming over for dinner, so we’ll have to pack up your stuff and set it up again when they leave.” I ran down the outline for the day.
“Rory, whatever works. We don’t care where we sleep. We’re excited to see you and want to have fun. Maybe go to pubs, drink beer, and listen to music.”
I smiled at her. “Speaking of we, who got your other ticket?”
“Speak of the devil,” Marty said, waving behind me. Her wide smile crinkled her eyes and her newly bleached teeth lit up the street.
Turning, my chest constricted, my lungs tightened, and a golf ball grew in my throat. My voice caught, and I couldn’t do anything beyond wave. Instead of smiling, I sneered. I shot Marty a death glare, my mind reeling at how this could happen or why Marty thought it would be a good idea.
“Hi, Rory.” His deep voice brought back a wave of memories, and the joy I had felt earlier sizzled with disdain and disappointment.
I cleared my throat. “Scott. What are you doing here?”
The street tilted and spun, my eyes struggling to believe who was standing next to me in Ireland. Unable to trust her, I recoiled from Marty. “I—I—uh, I don’t understand.” My eyes raced between them, searching for a reasonable explanation, but their eyes reflected eagerness and adventure.
“Rory, I told you my sister couldn’t come.” She dropped her voice below a whisper and stuck her head toward me. “There was no one else.”
“Excuse us,” I said to Scott, grabbing her elbow and dragging her to the corner of the building. I glanced behind me, and Scott stood where I left him, pretending to be interested in the window display of the souvenir shop.
“Ow!” Marty rubbed her upper arm, where my fingers had dug into her precious, delicate skin.
“What are you doing?” I half-whispered, half-yelled. “Why would you think bringing Scott would be a good idea?” Furious, my nostrils flared, and spittle flung out of my mouth.
Marty ran her hand down her face, removing the wetness. She stepped back and gripped her luggage. “So what? It’s three nights, Rory. You’ll be fine. I didn’t want to travel alone, and he missed you—I don’t see the problem.”
I threw my head back and stared at the rolling clouds. My right hand gripped and squeezed my forehead while I tried to compose myself. “If you didn’t think it was a problem, you wouldn’t have kept it from me. There were so many times you could have told me who was coming.”
Marty shrugged with one shoulder. “You said you didn’t care.” That was true, but that didn’t make it right.
My eyes narrowed, and I took in her confident posture, arms wrapped around her chest, and jutted chin sticking out at me.
My mouth hung open at her nonchalance. “Marty! He’s my ex-boyfriend. Why the hell would I want him here?”
The familiar gaze of Marty’s manipulative eyes scanned my face. “You’re right. I should have told you. Can you let it go? I’ll keep him away from you so you don’t have to deal with him, and we’ll be out of your hair in a few days.” Her soft lips brushed against my cheek and she squeezed my hand. “I promise.”
I sighed and checked my watch. “Fine. What time is it at home?”
“I don’t know, like, eight-thirty?”
“Did you sleep on the plane?”
“No, I couldn’t. I’m delirious right now.”
I inhaled and exhaled, counting the rush of air entering and exiting my body until I got to ‘three-Mississippi’. “Fine.” I picked up her luggage and stepped closer to her, my eyes inches from hers. “It’s just three nights, but if he does anything to ruin my weekend, he’s gone. I don’t know where, but I won’t have him bringing up bad memories or disrespecting me in my house.”
I didn’t wait for Marty’s response, but marched back to Scott. “Hi, Scott. Welcome to Ireland. Are you ready?” Before he could reply, I walked away and hailed a taxi.
