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Every time she’d make a plan to explore the island, whether it was the Seal Colony or just Kilronan Harbour, the rain got in the way. She was trying to stick to her father’s mantra of Get up, get out there, and enjoy the day, but it was hard to do when the day kept pouring buckets of water on her plans. She’d taken the bike out on the one slightly less rainy day to see some of the island, and it really was lovely: rolling hills and slick black rock and shaggy ponies and sheep. But just as she’d been about to take some photos on her phone, the rain had turned into a blinding sheet and driven her back to the cottage, soaked and shivering, cursing Ireland and wishing she was on a beach with a cocktail like Liz had suggested.
Toby kept sending a stream of photos, which Cordelia clung to, grateful for the reminders of the people she loved back in New York. But they also made her more homesick.
She was FaceTiming with Liz now as she got ready for dinner, trying on outfits with her phone propped up on the lamp next to her broken camera. She’d emailed Leslie, who had assured her she could fix it no problem once she was back.
The summer was stretching out in front of her like the sea. A rain-soaked, depressing, endless sea.
“You need to get a hobby,” Liz said as Cordelia held up a silky pink blouse. She shook her head and Cordelia tossed the blouse aside.
“There aren’t any hobbies here,” Cordelia said. “Except maybe fishing.”
“Learn to fish!”
“That’s boring.”
“Cord, you can literally sit in the same spot for five hours when you’re waiting for the right picture.”
“That’s different.”
“How is that different?”
“It just is.” She ducked into her closet and returned with a knee-length shirtdress, white with thin blue stripes.
“Yes!” Liz exclaimed. “Do you have a wide belt? And boots. That would be perfect.”
“You don’t think it’s too New York?” Cordelia asked, slipping her sweatshirt off over her head.
“Uh, I don’t know if you remember this, but you’re from New York. Do you think this woman is going to expect you to come in waders and a wool sweater?”
“I don’t want to be too city-mouse,” Cordelia said, buttoning up the dress. But when she’d added the belt, she had to admit she looked cute.
“Yes, girl!” Liz crowed. “Minimal makeup, gloss on your lips, and leave your hair down. You’re the perfect blend of casual and class.”
“I love when your interior design skills can apply to people,” Cordelia said wryly.
“That reminds me!” Liz clapped her hands. “I was talking to my boss the other day and she said they were looking for a new photographer to do some promotional work. Can I give her your info? I’ll tell her you’re out of the country till September, of course.”
“Oh,” Cordelia said, her stomach lurching. “Um. Yeah.”
Liz pursed her red-painted lips. “I know it’s not really what you want to do, babes,” she said. “But it’s work, right?”
Cordelia swallowed. “Right. No, of course. That’s amazing, Liz. Really. Thank you.”
Liz smiled. “Okay, before I go, I need details on the guy situation. Like how many age-appropriate hotties might there be living on Inishmore? Or cute tourist guys. I’m not picky.”
“Liz . . .”
“I’m not pulling a Louise on you, I swear,” Liz said. “I don’t care if you get married and have babies or whatever. But Cord, you’re young, you’re hot, you’re in a foreign country for the summer – you must let me live vicariously through you while you fuck a bunch of Irish island boys. Please please please.” She made big eyes at the camera and batted her lashes.
Cordelia laughed. “You want to vicariously have sex with men?”
“Ew, no, not the men part. Just the sex part. Vacation sex, Cordie! The best kind there is.”
“I think you’re confusing Inishmore with Cancún,” Cordelia said. “Besides, I’m here to look after an old lady, not hit up the clubs. There aren’t any clubs anyway.”
“I don’t think Róisín is real,” Liz declared. “I bet she’s some old ghost that haunts the cliffs and only the locals can see her. But seriously, Cord. Don’t keep those walls you’ve built up so high. Be open to the possibility of some adult fun times. Maybe you’ll meet Cillian Murphy 2.0.”
“For a lesbian, you have a very bizarre obsession with Cillian Murphy.”
