Page 91 of Road Trip
“The bloody portrait again,” he said under his breath as they pulled into the inn’s parking lot. He parked in front of the porte cochere, got out, and opened her door.
Maeve hesitated, then kissed his cheek. It was warm and scratchy and he smelled like soap and she wished, more than anything, that he would wrap his arms around her and tell her that everythingwould be okay. That they would be okay. But that would be a lie, and she didn’t need any more lies in her life.
“I had fun today,” she whispered. He nodded, but didn’t reply.
She was barely out of the Jeep when he sped away. It was full dark now. She stood in the glow of the lanterns flanking the inn entrance, watching his red taillights grow smaller and smaller. But a moment later, he flipped a quick U-turn and was driving back in her direction. She felt her heart lift slightly.
He pulled alongside her, rolled down the window, and handed the box to her. “Here. You forgot the cake.”
And then he was gone.
Therese was inbed, reading. She looked up, then looked at her watch. “You’re back. I thought maybe you’d stay over with Liam.”
“No.” Maeve set the bakery box on the nightstand.
“What’s that?”
“Chocolate torte. From his sister.”
Therese grabbed the box and looked inside. “Awesome. I didn’t have any dinner.”
Maeve went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. While she was waiting for the water to heat up, she brushed her teeth. Then she stood under the shower, crying, until the water turned cold, and her skin was as shriveled as a prune.
She didn’t bother to blow her hair dry. Tomorrow it would be a giant ball of frizz, but she didn’t care. When she was dressed in her pajamas, she emerged from the bathroom to find her sister sitting cross-legged on the bed, eating chunks of cake with her hands. Her face was smeared with chocolate and a glob of the cherry filling had settled on her chest.
“Really, Therese?” In that moment, she sounded exactly like her mother.
“What? I didn’t have a fork and didn’t feel like getting dressed and going downstairs to find one. Why are you in such a shitty mood tonight?”
“I’m not.” Maeve pulled the covers down on her bed, climbed in, and pulled the sheet and bedspread up over her head.
Therese reached over and pulled the covers back. “That’s it? You’ve been gone all afternoon, you met your boyfriend’s family, and—”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh. Okay. I forgot. Suddenly Maeve Dunagin is embracing her midlife slut era, casually hooking up with random men she picks up in bars. In Ireland.”
“It was a distillery, not a bar, and I keep telling you, I did not sleep with him.”
“Maybe if you had, you’d be in a better mood. Something clearly went wrong today. Tell your big sis, and you’ll feel better.”
“There’s nothing to tell. We had a… disagreement. I specifically told him ahead of time that I wanted to talk to his cousin’s husband Jamie about his mom, and the IRA robbery. And Jamie willingly agreed to answer all my questions. But after we left, Liam admitted he was annoyed because I’d ‘interrogated’ Jamie in front of his whole family. He said Jamie was only answering my questions out of politeness, because I was Liam’s friend.”
“Ouch. So… what happens next? Are you on a break?”
“Therese! We leave here in three days. There’s no point in keeping this—whatever this is—going.”
“And you told him that?”
“Yes.”
“How did he take it?”
“Not well. He didn’t even kiss me good night. Just let me out of the car and drove away.”
Therese went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. When she came back, Maeve was facedown on her bed.
“Oh honey,” Therese said, sitting on the edge of her sister’s bed and rubbing her back. “I don’t see how a woman who’s so smart about everything else can be so dumb about something like this.”
