“So how’d you get from there to going to school in Canada?” I pick up my mug to take a sip, but I’ve drained my hot chocolate without realizing it. Kieran finishes his tea and catches Darryl’s attention, motioning to our mugs and holding up two fingers.
“Well, I quickly learned real life isn’t like the movies. The bossman didn’t suddenly hand over all this new responsibility and groom me to someday take over the business.” He pauses when Darryl arrives with our drinks, shooting him a quick smile and nod of thanks before returning his attention to me. “He did sort of take me under his wing, though. I was still largely a gopher, but he let me sit in on a few meetings and conference calls. Asked my opinion about projects and showed me some of his plans. Around the same time, I had a friend going to school here, and he loved it. I kept seeing ads for it and began thinking the universe was pointing me toward Loyola and a diploma so I wouldn’t be stuck as an errand boy for the rest of my life.”
I smile, as I always do whenever someone mentions the universe. I grew up believing in that stuff because my mom did. My friends have always indulged me when I talk about signs and things happening for a reason and other ‘woo-woo stuff’ as they affectionately call it. It’s been harder to believe any of it over the last year, though. I can’t believe my mom’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis and quick decline weremeantto happen. Before her memory was gone for good, she told me to never lose faith, but it’s been a struggle.
I give myself a mental shake. “Aren’t there colleges in Ireland?” I ask, hoping I’ve achieved a teasing tone even though my throat is suddenly dry.
He chuckles. “Of course. I mentioned it to my boss, and he thought it’d be a good idea for me to get out of Ireland. See more of the world, have some new experiences. Experiences far away from the shadow my dad and his business cast. He helped me apply for the Architectural Technology and Design program, along with scholarships, and now here I am.”
“Here you are. Very impressive, Kieran.”
His lips curve upward and he gives another little shrug. I expect him to say something modest, but instead he says, “I know, right?”
I burst out laughing, jostling the table in the process and making my hot chocolate slosh over the rim of the mug. Kieran’s laughter joins mine as he grabs a handful of napkins from the dispenser to mop up the spill. Darryl comes by with a wet cloth and wipes the table down for us while we hold our mugs aloft.
After he’s gone, Kieran leans back in his chair, a smile flirting around his eyes and mouth. “You’re like a ray of sunshine, you know that, Meredith?”
My heart lurches. My mom always used to say that to me. In fact, for as long as I can remember, her nickname for me was Sunshine Girl. I blink rapidly and paste a smile on, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels.
He leans across the table and places his hand over mine where it rests beside my mug. I’ve given enough comforting touches in the last year to know that’s what this is. Nothing more. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, not at all. Just…stirred up an old memory.” I clear my throat and drop my gaze to his long, slim fingers covering the back of my hand. Several blue and black ink splotches stain his skin. “So…next week. What can I expect?”
Kieran removes his hand and reclines in his seat again. As we finish our second round of drinks, he tells me we’ll be meeting with his parents, Eamon and Maeve. He tells me a bit about his dad’s business, fills me in on a few more details about his childhood, and describes his living situation and the courses he’s taking. By the time he’s given me the run-down, I feel comfortable enough to tell him I work here—“Here?Truly? Were you an elf when it was Santa’s Village?”—and give him a few other particulars about my life that might come up.
We’ve just stepped outside the café when Kieran blurts, “I wasn’t entirely honest about something when I emailed you the other night.”
My stomach drops. Things were going so well and I felt as if I could genuinely like Kieran. I’m not often wrong, and Ihatebeing wrong. Not bothering to disguise the sigh that escapes me, I pull Kieran to the side of the building so we’re out of the way of foot traffic. “What weren’t you honest about?”
“I told you I didn’t want to ask a friend to go with me because I didn’t want my old life to mix with my new one, yeah?” He looks at me expectantly, and I nod. “The truth is, school’s going well, but the rest of it…” He trails off and ducks his head, but not before I catch a hint of pink entering his cheeks. “The truth is, I thought I’d make friends easily and have the ‘full college experience’, you know? I’m so much older than most of my classmates, though. I’ve done the partying and drinking and it’s not really my thing anymore. I know I should make more of an effort, but…I’m struggling.”
Ahh. Guess I wasn’t wrong after all; if anything, this vulnerability—especially paired with the slight flush of color in his cheeks—makes me like Kieran even more. There’s something so sweet and boyish about him, it makes me feel this odd sense of protection for him. “And you don’t want your parents to know because you’d get a great big ‘I told you so’, right?”
He nods, and some of the light returns to his eyes. “That’s it. I know it’s dishonest, but I need them to think I have a full, well-rounded life here. That I have friends and a social life, and not that I mostly sit in my tiny room in a house I share with half a dozen other people, studying and watching Netflix.”
I can’t help giggling at the image, but luckily Kieran laughs along with me. “Well, they won’t hear about any of that from me. We’ll present the image you want, and hopefully it’ll keep them off your back for awhile at least.”
“Brilliant.” He glances past me before turning his gaze to his watch. “I guess I’ll see you next week then. I’ll text to confirm everything with you the day before.” He takes a step closer to me, then hesitates. “I feel like after this crash course in getting to know each other, we should hug?”
The way he phrases it as a question endears him to me even more. “Definitely.” I step into his open arms and he closes them around me, holding me loosely. He’s only a few inches taller than my 5’5”, so I fit nicely against him. I allow myself to close my eyes for a moment, and then it hits me: if I’m closing my eyes, this hug is going on longer than it should. And yet neither of us is making any move to pull away.
This is the ‘human touch’ part of my job description. At least that’s what I tell myself. It’s platonic. Comforting. Kierandidbasically just tell me his life story in the span of an hour, after all. From the sounds of it, he doesn’t open up to many people, which means we share a bond now. And if I happen to notice how good he smells or the fact my head fits perfectly on his shoulder, that’s just a side effect of being observant.
We finally release each other and I’m the first one to take a step back. Kieran gives me a small smile, followed by a light chuckle. “Are you going to charge me for that hug?”
“I’ll put it on your tab for next week.”
