Farrah is filming in the hillside, so I get to spend my days watching her work in the beautiful, natural world untouched by civilization. I have only been here one day, but it reminds me of the video game Motherland.
Everything here reminds me of something I have always imagined, making me feel like I’m experiencing the world I play in games. Outside of working, my traveling has been limited since college, so I have only ever dreamt of all the places I would go. Now it seems only fitting with the change in my life that I start to make my other dreams come true.
Maybe that is what I need to be thinking about for my future. I have spent my twenties chasing a fame and vision I had when I was six. I wanted to let that little girl get everything she wished for, but what about the woman? What is it that I want now?
Passing a cafe, I at least know I want a coffee to top off the night. I let the server talk me into getting a few scones as well.
As I settle by the window and take off my coat, there is only one thing I can think of to make this night better.
“It’s 10 a.m., right?” I ask, unsure if I got the time difference correct.
“Yes, love.” The deep timbre of his voice mixed with his accent feels so familiar.
“I had a sip of Guinness for the first time.”
“Did it put hair on your chest?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s hot.”
“God, you’re so weird.”
I take a sip of my drink, my wide spread mouth struggling to close around the edge.
“I’m weird? I’ve been shopping for a clown costume for you. I might have to wait until Halloween.”
“If you are taking requests in the meantime, I’d like to see you as a lumberjack.”
Honestly, he would fit into this movie that Farrah is in perfectly. It’s a historical romance about an American Black woman falling in love with an Irish farmer. He could be the wavy-shirted, bearded man who grunts more than speaks. But the idea of her kissing him instead makes me very upset.
My phone dings with a picture of him shirtless holding a drill.
“Hope that will do for now.”
I pull down my top a little and send back a picture of my chest. It’s not the best sexy selfie I’ve sent, but it’s the best I can do in a public place.
“I’m at work, woman.”
“You started it, man.”
This gets a sort of growl out of him, expressing his frustration. I feel as frustrated as I can right now in my current not-horny state.
“What do you think of my homeland so far?” he asks, changing the subject.
“It’s beautiful. I can’t understand why your dad left.”
“He did it for my ma. She came to visit her grandparents, and they met at the store. It’s all history from there.”
“Yeah, but it sounds like she could have gotten her citizenship here.”
“Well, he wanted the American dream and all that jazz. But Finn was born there. Bring it up, and you’ll never hear the end of how he is the only true Irish one out of the lot of us.”
“That must suck.”
“I think about moving there sometimes just to one-up him. Bring my old lady with me and start a family.”
“You think I’d move here?”
