A Semester Abroad

"No, that's exactly what we shouldn't do. Get moving."

I added a 50 to whatever she left, called out a general apology and followed Grace out the door.

We went back and had dessert in her small apartment. I was slicing the apple pie in her tight kitchen when she stepped past me, her breasts brushing against my back. Grace was at the sink running some tepid water over a pint of ice cream. Stepping in close, I reached up and over her for two glasses. I could feel her shiver as I kissed her neck before stepping back.

Apple pie and vanilla ice cream seemed stereotypically American, and I wondered if she had purchased it for that reason. After we finished eating, Grace insisted on examining the hand that I used punch Nate. She took it in both of hers and slowly, gently ran her thumb over my knuckles. Lifting my hand to her lips, she kissed the knuckles.

"There, all better. I'm going to go get some ice for that hand."

I couldn't tear my eyes from the sway of her hips as she walked into the kitchen. She wrapped ice cubes in a dishtowel and headed back. Leaning against me as we sat together, she held the towel against my fist. I was nervous in the same fun way I was immediately before sparring, there was anticipation mixed with excitement.

I lifted my hand with hers, twisted it and kissed the back of her hand. "All better."

Looking grace in the eyes, I leaned in and kissed her wrist. "All better."

I moved up to her neck and her perfume pulled at me. I kissed her just below her jaw line. I could feel her shiver again as I huskily whispered. "All better."

Moving to her lips, I gently kissed her. When I felt her tongue probing, I met it with mine. She leaned back into the couch and we remained there, dessert forgotten.

Time went by, and then, "I'm... William, I like you, but I'm not what he said. I don't just fall into bed with a boy. You... I like you and we can have some fun, but that's as far as it's going. Tonight, anyway. Okay?"

She sounded so vulnerable.

"Of course. Absolutely. I wasn't expecting anything more than this." I lied. "We're fine." Maybe not fine.

"Well, I appreciate what your mouth is saying, but other parts of you are saying something else. Stand up."

I did and she slowly, way too slowly, unbuttoned my jeans while looking up at me. One hand reached down into my shorts while the other worked the pants down to my knees. She pushed me back and I sat down again on the couch. Our lips met as her hand gradually moved from delicate touching to more forceful stroking.

It had been a while, so I was a little embarrassed at how quickly I came. I wanted to return the favor and had her blouse half unbuttoned and was kissing my way down when she gently took my chin and lifted me back up.

"Next time, okay?"

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"It's not the right time."

"It's okay. I have another couple of hours before I need to get the last bus."

"No, William, it's not the right time."

"Okay. Oh!" I'm an idiot. "Okay. Next time."

Next time turned into a lot of times.

A couple of weeks later we were sitting at the small Italian place that she loved on campus. The food was horrible. I didn't know where we stood and I was almost afraid to ask. She never brought it up either. I was seeing two beautiful women, one almost platonically and the other decidedly not. I had no idea if either were seeing other people.

Seamus Coughly seemed to hate me with a passion and his brother joined in on that hate. Someone in town must have spoken to them, as they hadn't started anything physically, but their insults were never-ending. I didn't care about words, so I ignored them. I suspected that Seamus had a thing for Aoife.

Grace was finishing what they called a pizza and I called an abomination when I broached the topic of my trip.

"So, I own a small, very, very small percentage of a potato chip company. Crisps, I guess you'd call them. We're thinking of seeing about having a distributor carry them here in Ireland. We're not going to compete with the major brands. They'd definitely be a boutique item, but it's worth looking into. I have a meeting set up next Saturday in Dublin. I was thinking, maybe, you know, if you want, maybe you could come with me? We could make a weekend of it."

"You own a potato crisp company?"

"No, just a small part."

"Yeah, I get that. It's just so... random. Sure. I'd love to go."

That weekend solidified our relationship. We both knew it wouldn't last. I was heading back to New York and she was finishing her education. Tomorrow wasn't promising, but we had today and we took it.

Michelle was a friend of Grace's and an amazing artist. I helped her with Math 220, Probability and Statistics, and she wanted to do something for me to return the favor. I asked her to sketch Aoife. Surprisingly, I had no photos of her.

Michelle went off my descriptions and the end result was beautiful. She'd put her two cats in the background, which was cute. She was a dedicated cat-mom, doting on her pets like Cynthia did with Buttercup. I had it framed in Cork. It seemed that Ireland was packed with beautiful women. I now had two as friends and Grace as considerably more.

As my relationship with Grace deepened, my feelings for Aoife changed. I admired her and I thought that I was beginning to understand her, but the physical attraction was fading. She reminded me of some of the women in my family, in a way.

My great-grandmother had issues dealing with strangers and traveling far from home. My mother had always been... intense. She was very protective, sometimes overly so and she was often preoccupied with numbers. She mumbled to herself a lot, often about math and probabilities and weird stuff.

Maybe what I was feeling for Aoife was more than friendship, but it wasn't romantic. I wanted to protect her and bring her out of her shell. Mrs. O'Barrows gave me a mincemeat pie and some hard cheese and I took the food and the picture out to the orchards.

"I was thinking you had forgotten about me, William. How were your lessons?"

She had an odd way of speaking.

"Good. It's been, I don't know, fun sort of. And exhausting. I can't seem to get a good night's sleep, but I love Ireland. I've always thought my grandparents were a little... goofy, I guess. They can't stop talking about Ireland. But I have to hand it to them. There's something special here. I told you about my mom. She's always been what they call a helicopter mom. Just hovering around, managing everything."

I looked around, raising my hands to my sides. "All of this? Sort of freeing, you know?"

"I can only imagine. Did you bring us supper?"

"Oh, yeah. And this." I pulled out the drawing.

"This... you... you had an artisan create this? For me?"

"Uh, yeah. Friend of a friend. She did a really good job for not having a photo to work with."

"She... William, I knew you were the one. As soon as you entered the village, I knew."

That was odd. "Okay. I thought maybe, uhm, do you think we might walk around town tonight? I know that might make you uncomfortable, but we don't have to go into the pubs or anything. Just walk around."

"Yes, William. I would love to walk with you."

I felt like we had a breakthrough. We talked and we laughed. She didn't instigate anything physical and neither did I. We were friends enjoying the evening. We'd stop and look in some store windows and people seemed distant, but courteous to Aoife.

Seamus and his brother Brian were waiting for us near the post office. He was leaning against the white picket fence. "Still haven't learned to stay away from your betters, have you, Corrigan?"

I stepped in front of Aoife. "Go home, Coughly. Or go to the bar. We're just going for a walk. We don't want any trouble."

He stood straight when I moved in front of her. "Don't want trouble? You don't stand in front of Aoife! You stand behind her, or better yet, you leave her the hell alone!"

It takes a lot to get me pissed, but this drunken idiot was managing it. "Look, I've put up with shit from the two of you for weeks. I get it. The two of you are the top dogs around here. Everyone's afraid of the fearsome Coughly twins. Well, fuck you. You keep pushing and I'm going to show them why they shouldn't be afraid."

Seamus started walking towards me. His brother was staying back, but kept his arm behind him, hiding something. Aoife put her hand on my shoulder and spoke loudly.

"Stop! Seamus Coughly, take your brother and go home. I am severely disappointed in both of you."

I could see the conflict in his face. He badly wanted a piece of me. Slowing to an eventual stop, he was almost beseeching her.

"Aoife, he, I..."

"Do you gainsay me, Coughly?"

He glowered at me. "We're not done, Corrigan."

The twins stormed off and we finished our walk. I wanted to ask her which house was hers, but small steps were in order. This was a breakthrough. A little more each day.

Grace was delightfully nervous. I was carrying a large canvas bag with sandwiches, water and Lucozade in one hand, and holding her hand with the other. We were headed to Cork Harbor. All three of her brothers worked on charter fishing boats and they were pooling their money to eventually buy their own.

Declan had arranged to skip the afternoon outing and was going to meet us when the morning charter got in. Grace often complained about how protective they were of her, but she obviously wanted their approval. When younger, her brothers had worked on commercial fishing vessels to put her through private school and had put away money for her university studies.

She could insult her brothers all day long, but if anyone else said anything even slightly critical, she was all over them.

"They're good men, William. Hard-working, honest and generous to a fault, but they're... a little rough around the edges. Just, I don't know. They're my brothers and I love them, okay?"

I squeezed her hand. "Of course. It's going to be fine."

We sat in the car and waited in the parking lot until his ship was in sight. She jumped out and began pacing on the dock, just before the gate where the guests would be exiting. Grace began waving and turned to me.

"There he is!"

Declan was a large man with a scar on his cheek and two days growth of beard. He wore a heavy turtleneck and walked with the casual grace of someone accustomed to hard work. Holding the gate open, he waited until all the customers walked through, sharing words with a few and shaking a couple of hands.

He hugged Grace with one arm and thrust a Ziplock with fish in it at her with the other. "You have a cooler?"

"No. You should have said something."

"How often have I not given' you something off the charter?"

"Never mind. Declan, this is William. William, my eldest brother, Declan."

I shook his hand. He wasn't a dick about it. Declan outweighed me by about 30 pounds, but he didn't try to overpower me or intimidate me.

"Good to meet you, Declan. I've heard good things."

He hitched a thumb at Grace. "From her? Not likely." Declan grinned.

She grinned. "I'm family. It's allowed."

We found a couple of benches and sat down to have lunch. We talked about our studies, New York and future plans. I asked what they were fishing for and we talked angling for a while.

"You do much fishing, William?"

Grace piped up. "No, he's too busy working as a male escort."

I frowned at her. "A bit." My father had three fishing boats and two clammers. He also owned a large oyster farm and our family owned Montauk East End Seafood, one of the largest seafood stores on Long Island. I'd been on the water all my life.

We continued to speak about fishing, and he shared some stories of Grace's childhood which embarrassed her to no end. Declan seamlessly slipped into Portuguese. He clearly knew that much of the New England and Mid-Atlantic fishing industry was populated by immigrants from Portugal. I was impressed.

"How long have you worked the waters?"

My father spent years working commercial fishing boats side by side with men from Portugal. He hired many of them when they grew too old to continue with the stressful work on the water. Dad was fluent, I was passable.

"Started when I was a young... small? Little. More of a hurt than help. Got less bad as I got older. Portuguese not good. Sorry."

Declan nodded his head, looking at the parking lot. "Grace," He pulled some money from his pocket. "Get some ice from the bait shop for the fish."

"We should be fine. The bag is lined and it's still cool."

He rolled his eyes. "Grace, I want to talk about you behind your back. Go get some ice."

She clutched the bag and sat there for a minute. Eventually, she got up, took the money and walked away.

"She likes you, William. You know how many boys she's brought to meet me? One. You. Usually we have to go meet who she's seeing on our own. She's hasn't dated too much. Always had her head in books. The boys are always sniffing around though. Got to expect it when you have a sister that looks like Grace does."

He grew quiet and took another bite of his sandwich.

"So, she's mostly dated boys like us. Younger brothers of our friends or kids from the neighborhood. Nothing wrong with that. Good, God-fearing men. Hard workers. But... well, she's our sister, you know? She deserves better. She's pretty, she's smart and she's got a big heart. Grace should be with someone smart, someone who'll take care of her."

Declan looked me over.

"Treat her well and you'll have no problem with us. Hurt her in any way and we'll come looking for you."

It sounded very much like something I'd say to someone Cynthia was getting serious about. I nodded my head.

"Understood. You're not what I expected, Declan."

"Neither are you, Yank. Expected some soft-handed college boy. Probably glasses and pale as a ghost. Here you come working the water and getting in bar fights."

"She told you about that?"

"Not a word. Everyone else in the bar? Couldn't shut up about it."

He laughed and we were good.

The setting sun behind Grace had me squinting as she came back with the bag of ice. The fiery red as it met the water matched her hair perfectly. She was smiling at us and I watched her walk, taken by her beauty.

Declan slapped my knee. "Snap out of it."

I smiled sheepishly and he rolled his eyes.

Grace joined us and we spent another couple of hours talking. She made him keep the extra two sandwiches for his evening shift and we headed back to her apartment.

"He liked you, William."

"Declan seemed like a good guy."

"He is. Don't tell them, but I'd be lost without my brothers."

My heart sunk a bit hearing that. It was going to tear my heart out when I left Ireland and Grace. I'd been harboring some hope that she'd come back with me.

"Declan's not the only member of the family that likes you."

We'd been about to order some food to be delivered. She stood up and began unbuttoning her shirt.

Grinning, I watched her slowly take off her top.

"Dinner can wait."

I spent the night and went to campus in the morning.

My afternoon was booked pretty solid. I was going to get some studying in, work on a paper, send some apple seeds from the local apples to Dad because he's weird and wanted them and then try to find Aoife. As I passed the bakery, I saw them unloading some heavy bags of what I guessed was flour. It was the old lady that ran the shop and I assumed her husband.

Running over, I grabbed the bag they were working on and hoisted it onto my shoulder. "I've got it. Just through the door here?"

They looked surprised. "Uh, yes. Thank you, young man. You're a blessing, is what you are. Jordy's back isn't what it used to be."

I helped them unload their truck then moved some of the heavier bags inside to where it would be most convenient. It wasn't a big deal. The largest of them couldn't have weighed more than 50 pounds and I was done within 20 minutes. She pressed a good-sized warm bag into my hand.

"Thank you. William, is it? We're much obliged. You're a credit to your family, is what you are. A credit."

She had an odd way of speaking, but a kind smile. I lifted the bag. "Thank you. My parents might argue the point sometimes. Please, let me pay for these." I lifted the bag a bit.

"Tosh! They're day-olds. No one's buying them. A gift, they are."

They were straight from the oven and certainly weren't too old to sell, but I didn't argue. Shoving some of a pastry into my mouth, I saw Meghan outside the post office. She was sitting on a tree stump and had her shoe off. Her foot was bleeding, and she was rubbing it.

"Meghan, what happened? You okay? Want me to get your mom or dad?"

"No, thank you Mr. William. I'm fine. Too much practicing. You hafta make sacrifices and it isn't a sacrifice unless it means something."

"Yeah, but... I mean, there's a limit, right? Do you need a bandage?" I felt caught. I'd been as dedicated to martial arts as she is to dancing when I was her age, so I understood but for some reason it really bothered me.

"I'll be all right. But... do you think I might see some more pictures of your dog?"

"Dink? Oh, Buttercup. She's my sister's, but sure." I pulled out my phone and sat next to her as we scrolled through the photos.

"Where are you going, William? I could show you how to get there if you can wait a bit?"

I tousled her hair before answering. "I'm good, thanks. You rest that foot. I just need to mail some stuff and then find Aoife."

"Aoife? Could you tell her I've been showing you around? That I'm a good helper?"

Giving her a half smile, I answered. "Sure. She's a friend of yours?" As much of a friend as an adult could be to an eight-year-old.

"Miss Aoife, she... well, if you could just tell her, please."

"Yeah, no problem."

She seemed nervous and concerned. Putting my arm around her shoulder, I pulled her in for a quick side-hug. "I'll tell her. You have my word."

I mailed my package and headed towards the orchards.

Aoife was in a meadow, her back to a small boulder as she sat and read. "Hello, my William. You have the keen eye of a hunter, always finding me whenever you remember poor Aoife."

"Luck more than anything else. Pastry?" I held out the bag.

"And what did these cost ya?"

"Actually, just some time. I helped them unload their truck and they wouldn't let me pay for the food."

"Well, that's fair and equitable. A good trade has to mean something to both parties."

"Uh, yeah. Okay. So, I ran into Meghan. The little girl? A dancer? She's walked me through town, pointed things out, introduced me to folks. Nice kid."

"She's a sweet child."

"You reading?"

"Yes. Poetry. Do you know any?"

"Some."

She patted the ground next to her. "Tell me one you know, William."

I recited "On Raglan Road".

"You have a good voice for it. Was that Kavanagh?"

"Yup. A fair and equitable trade. Read me one of yours." I nodded towards the book.

"That's your request of me? Well, it is a fair trade."

She shifted through the book until she found the page she wanted. Aoife began reading Yeats' "The Second Coming" and for some reason I shivered when she got to the line that mentioned slouching towards Bethlehem.

The campus librarian helped me find a number of old books and I carted them over to an out of the way table. I'd been having difficulty finding anything about an "Old Way Congregation" and was pouring through books on religions by local authors.

I looked up when she cleared her throat. There were three women. I recognized two of them from the campus.

"Can we join you? For a minute or two?"