Fire Down Below (31 page)

The flight to Ireland
is
long and boring. The worst thing about it is the layover at Heathrow. At first
I was delighted. I’ll be in London! Think of all that duty free make-up! Shopping
is great for the initial hour, but I quickly discover I’m too exhausted to
continue. The airport is insanely crowded and I didn’t check my bag, so I have
to drag it around with me. I’m on Seattle time and my body thinks it’s the
middle of the night.

Finally I grab a bottle of water
and head over to my gate, figuring I’ll thumb through the Lonely Planet’s
Best
of Dublin
while I wait for my flight. I overhear a conversation where the
person is saying that Sean Penn is supposed to be on the plane. My eyes search
for him once we board, but I don’t see any sign of him.

 It’s a short flight and before I
know it we’ve landed and I’m being herded through customs. Declan is waiting
for me as I finally walk out.

“Kate!” he raises his hand and
grins.

And what can I say? My hearts soars.
Maybe it’s the traveling or the sleep deprivation causing all my normal
barriers to fall, but the sight of Declan thrills me. All I want to do is run
into his arms and stay there forever.

“How was your flight?” he asks, giving
me a hug. He smells like he’s just come in from the outdoors all fresh and deliciously
male.

“It was fine.”

Declan reaches down and takes my
bag, adjusting the handle length so he can roll it behind himself. He’s wearing
a gray cable knit sweater with a blue wool scarf tied at his neck, dark jeans,
and heavy Doc Marten style boots. When he’s done with the adjustment he smiles at
me and my breath catches. He’s so handsome that it’s making my chest feel tight,
like I may never breathe again. A singular thought keeps running through my
head—I wish he were mine. I wish he were pulling me into his arms right now,
kissing me passionately, telling me how much he missed me. And that’s exactly
how it would be too. Declan wouldn’t care whether public displays of affection
were appropriate or not. It wouldn’t even occur to him to think that way.

Apparently I’m wearing an odd
expression because he suddenly seems concerned. “Are you all right? I know it
can be an adjustment with the time difference and all. Do you want to sit
down?”

“No, I’m good.” I smile
reassuringly. “Sean Penn was supposed to be on the plane, but apparently he no-showed.
I’d rather see Bono anyway.”

Declan rolls his eyes. “People
always want to see Bono. He’s become a bigger tourist attraction than Guinness.”

“Have you ever seen him?”

“Sure, I’ve seen him around.”

“Really? Have you ever talked to him
or gotten his autograph?”

“No, there’s something of an
understanding among Dubliners that we leave him and all the guys from the band
alone. This is their home after all.”

I nod. “I wish I could see him
though. Wouldn’t that be great?”

Declan considers this. “His
brother has a restaurant. We could always go eat there if you like. There’s
also The Clarence Hotel. As far as I know Bono and The Edge still own it. It’s
probably the closest you’re going to get. ”

“That’s a good idea. We’ll visit
those places and maybe Bono will show up!”

He laughs. “Come on.”

We walk through the airport with
Declan leading the way. He tells me how bad the traffic is and how it’s gotten
even worse than the traffic in Seattle. And that’s when it hits me.

I’m in Dublin, Ireland!

I know I spent all this time
traveling to get here, but it seemed abstract, as if I were going through the
motions without really thinking about what it would feel like when I finally
arrived. I let my eyes wander around in excitement. All the people look so
Irish!

Declan leads me to the parking
area where we eventually stop in front of a silver Audi. I walk over and stand
next to the passenger side while Declan puts my bag in the trunk. When he sees
me standing there he chuckles.

“What are you doing Kate?”

“What do you mean? I’m waiting for
you.”

“That’s the driver’s side.”

I look through the car window and,
sure enough, there’s the steering wheel where normally the glove box would be.
I groan, totally embarrassed, though I know I shouldn’t be. I feel so un-cool. “I
swear, I
knew
that.” I walk around to the other side, passing Declan on
the way, our bodies brushing against each other.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “You can
blame everything on jet lag.”

“Everything?”

 He raises an eyebrow at me.

Once we’re in the car, I freak
out. I’m trying not to show it, but I feel completely dizzy and disoriented.
It’s like I’ve fallen into some sort of parallel universe where the world is
opposite from the way it’s supposed to be. I’m sitting in the wrong side of the
car, driving down the wrong side of the street. All the signs are different and
even the roads look different. I’m gripping the car seat so hard I think my palms
are bleeding.

Declan, of course, is totally at
ease whipping in and out traffic, changing lanes. He’s talking about how his
younger sister and her husband are coming over for Christmas along with a whole
bunch of other aunts, uncles, and cousins and that his mom has set up the guest
bedroom for me. I nod, trying to sound coherent. Finally when he gets on the
Motorway and we’re speeding along at what feels like a hundred miles an hour, I
start to make squeaking noises.

Declan turns to me. “Are you
okay?”

“Jet...lag,” I manage to say in a
high pitched voice.

He’s confused for a second. “It’s
the driving isn’t it? I know it takes a while to get used to being on the opposite
side of the road.”

I study Declan and try to ignore everything
that’s happening outside my window. “I feel like I’m on an acid trip. Not that
I’ve ever been on an acid trip, but I’m guessing this is what it feels like.”

“Don’t worry, it gets better. I
felt the same way the first time I ever drove a car on the right side of the
street.”

“How do you manage going back and
forth between here and Seattle? It must be hard to adjust.” Though I have to
admit it doesn’t seem like any effort for him at all.

“Coming here is never a problem. I
always feel comfortable right away. Going back to the states feels strange for
the first day or so, but then I get used to it again. I should let you drive
after you’ve been here a few days and you’ll see what I mean.”

I look at him like he’s crazy, but
he grins.

“Are you hungry?” he asks. “We
could get lunch somewhere.”

I lean my head back and close my
eyes. “All I want to do is sleep. I’m so exhausted I feel like I’ve been awake
for a billion years. I’m surprised the sun hasn’t gone supernova.”

“Em, I know you’re tired Kate, but
trust me, you can’t sleep until tonight. At least not until eight o’clock, otherwise
you’ll be awake at three in the morning.”

I open my eyes. “Tonight? Are you
serious?” I glance at the car’s digital clock. It says 1:45. “That’s hours from
now. I’ll never make it.”

He reaches over and puts his hand
on my leg. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure out a way to keep you occupied.”

When he moves his hand away I can
still feel the imprint on my skin and wish he would put it back again. I wish
he would put his hands all over me. That would certainly keep me occupied. I
glance over at him and when our eyes meet they linger longer than they should. Finally
he’s forced to turn away so he can drive. I stare at the passing countryside
and wonder how I’m ever going to get through these next two weeks without making
a fool out of myself.

***

When we arrive in downtown Dublin,
Declan drives around, pointing out various landmarks.

“This is O’Connell Bridge and that’s
the River Liffey. There’s the Ha’ Penny Bridge over there. It used to cost a
half penny to cross it in the early 1900’s, that’s why they call it that. I got
arrested there once for public drunkenness when I was sixteen.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It gets worse. I was with friends
and we were all daring each other to jump into the Liffey. Luckily the Garda
arrived before anybody was stupid enough to do it.”

“What’s the Garda?”

“Dublin Police.”

“My goodness, what a happy little story.”

“I’ve got plenty of them. Don’t
worry though, I’m not going to bore you with all my stories. There’s some I’d
prefer to forget anyway.”

“I don’t mind. I like hearing your
stories. Even the bad ones.”

He glances at me. “They’re not all
bad you know. That was only a short period in my life.”

“I know.”

Looking around now I’m more awake,
and notice it’s a sunny day and that the city is amazing. The buildings are all
a mix of brick and limestone. There are no skyscrapers, plus the River Liffey
isn’t very wide, and it makes Dublin feel sort of cozy.

“This is gorgeous. I had no idea
Dublin was so cool.”

He nods. “Yeah, it’s a great
place. There are a lot of fun things to do. It’s really changed since I was a
kid.”

We drive around some more and he
tells me he’s going to park near Temple Bar.

“I read about that in my book.
It’s a tourist area right?”

“Yeah, there are lots of shops and
restaurants. You’ll like it. What book are you talking about?”

I pull out my copy of
Best of
Dublin
from my purse and show it to him. He laughs. “So you don’t trust me
to be your tour guide, huh?”

“Oh, stop.” I slap him lightly in
the arm. “Of course I do, I thought I’d just learn a bit about Dublin myself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m only teasing.
Did you see anything in there that looked good to you?”

“I thought the Irish Museum of
Modern Art looked interesting, as well as the National Gallery.”

Declan nods. “We could do those. There
are some local galleries that I think you might like too.”

I smile at him. It gives me a warm
feeling that he knows me so well.  

“And of course there’s The
Book
of Kells
,” he says with authority. “I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your
official tour guide if I didn’t force you to go see that.”

“That’s at Trinity College, right?
I read about it in my book. Oh, and also I want to check out the Guinness
Brewery or Storehouse, as I guess it’s called.”

“Of course, you can’t miss that.
That’d be like visiting Seattle and not seeing the Space Needle.”

Eventually Declan finds a parking
spot and we get out to walk around. This was definitely a good idea on his part
since I’m getting my second wind. I think about how incredible it is that you
can be in a place one day and the next day be halfway across the world.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I say,
telling Declan my thoughts.

“Yeah, it I’m glad I live in
modern times. Can you imagine how difficult it must have been? I would have
gone crazy not traveling anywhere. And just think,” he leans towards me, “then
we never would have met.”

“That would have been terrible.” I
mean it to come out as a joke, but instead my voice sounds genuinely upset.
Embarrassed I stop in front of a bakery and pretend I’m interested in the
display.

A lot of the shops and pubs have
Christmas decorations. There are lights strung outside some of the buildings like
streamers falling. The phrase Nollaig Shona Duit is displayed prominently and I
ask Declan what it means.

“Happy Christmas. It’s Irish.”

“I’ve noticed all the street signs
have both languages too. Does everybody speak Irish?”

“No, but we learn it in school, so
everyone’s familiar with it. Some people speak it fluently, but most people
don’t. Not in Dublin anyway. ” 

“How well do you speak it?”

He shrugs. “Okay, I guess.”

“I’ll bet you’re fluent.” I know
Declan and he never does anything half way.  I’m sure his Irish is perfect.

He chuckles. “I was lucky. My grandparents
are from the west and they spoke it with us when I was growing up.”

“Say something to me in Irish.”

“You’ve heard me sing Happy
Birthday.”

“I know, but that’s different. Say
something that’s just regular speech.”

He’s quiet. We’re still standing
in front of the bakery window filled with pastries and various cakes,
everything done up for Christmas. He turns to me and has a somewhat tender
expression on his face. “Tá grá agam duit,” he says softly.

“Wow. Say it again.”

Declan grins and then glances out
to the side of the street. He seems kind of embarrassed. When he turns back to
me he says it again with more conviction.

“That’s sounds neat. What does it
mean?”

“It means....” He glances through
the window. “This food looks delicious.”

“Hmm.” I repeat the phrase in my
head a few times, figuring it might come in handy.    

As we walk around it occurs to me
that I’ve never spent Christmas away from home before. Even when I was in
college I always flew back to Seattle for the holidays. Surprisingly I don’t
feel homesick and instead have this sense that I’m finally growing up. I never
thought of myself as someone who was too dependent, but in my own way I’ve been
afraid to take risks in my life.

“Do you want to get something to
eat?” he asks.

“Sure.” 

We find a restaurant in Temple
Bar. It has a funky art deco feel with bright red walls and purple furniture.
Our waiter has a heavy Slavic accent. After ordering our food Declan tells me
how a lot of people immigrated to Dublin during the Celtic Tiger.

“I’m not complaining,” he says. “I
understand why they wanted to come here, but it’s been controversial, that’s
for sure.”

“What’s the Celtic Tiger?”

He motions his hand around. “The
booming economy we had going a while back. Everything you see—modern Dublin—is
a result of it.”

“It was software driven, right?”

“An enormous part of it, yes.”

“Did you ever think about starting
a business here instead of Seattle?”

He nods, and sits back as the
waiter brings us our coffee. “I did, and I believe there’s still opportunity. I
was seriously thinking of moving back here, but then things really clicked with
Sev.” He picks up his coffee. “Though I’d like to have an office here if things
continue to work out in Seattle.”

“Did I tell you that Greg gave me
your old job?”

“Did he? It’s about time.”

“I basically forced him to give it
to me.” I tell Declan what happened and he nods with approval.

“Good for you. Greg’s a prick. I
never liked him. Are you sure you want to stay there? I can’t offer you a big salary,
but like I said you could work whatever hours you want.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can
turn that kind of money down.”

Declan nods. “Understandable.”

Our food finally arrives and we
both dig into a couple of focaccia sandwiches. It’s like any sandwich I could
order from any restaurant in Seattle. When I mention this to Declan he chuckles
in agreement.

“Don’t worry, my mother plans to
make you some traditional Irish food.”

“What did she say when you told
her that you invited me here? Were her and Martin okay with it?”

He nods, chewing a bite of
sandwich. “Sure, they were fine.”

I want to ask more questions, but
don’t want to appear too nosy. I’m very curious what Nina thinks of my coming
here for the holidays. You think she’d be jealous—I know I’d be—but then maybe
she’s so secure that it doesn’t even occur to her to feel jealousy.

As I’m finishing my sandwich the
exhaustion hits me again and I feel ill. The food is sitting in my stomach like
a rock and all I want to do is lie down and go to sleep.

“Do you think it would help if I
drank more coffee?” I ask.

“Probably not. You could try it,
but caffeine doesn’t usually help me with jet lag. We should walk around some
more, maybe head down to St. Stephen’s Green. Keeping busy is what usually helps.”

“Do you think we could go to your
house? I feel sick.”

“Of course,” Declan says, concern
in his voice. “You know, if you really want to sleep, it’s okay. I don’t want
to torture you.”

“I know. I think I’ll be all right
if I can lay down for a bit.”

We head back out and I find that
walking to the car is helping. The cold air feels good.

“How far away is the house?” I ask
after we climb into the car.

“Not far. Dublin is basically
divided in two halves by the Liffey—The Northside and the Southside. Our house
is in the south and that’s where we are now.”

I nod, leaning my head back onto
the seat. I’m so exhausted that even driving on the wrong side of the street
isn’t fazing me anymore. It’s like I’m already asleep and the unfamiliar sights
of the city have become a part of my dream landscape. Somewhere in there the
dream takes over. When I wake up it’s to the sound of Declan’s voice.

“Kate, we’re here.”

“What?” I open my eyes.

“We’re at the house.”

“Oh.”

“You’re so pretty when you sleep.”

I smile and then turn away feeling
embarrassed. Before the plane landed I put on fresh makeup and fixed my hair,
but there’s no hiding that I haven’t slept in twenty four hours. When I glance over,
Declan is still studying me.

“Shall I carry you inside?”

“Wow, do I really look that awful?”

“Hmm...maybe I should have let you
sleep. Then I could have carried you inside and put you to bed without any
backtalk.”

“Would you tuck me in?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’d tuck
you in.”

Our eyes meet and this time neither
of us looks away. Excitement drums through my stomach as he leans in and I suddenly
get the feeling he’s going to kiss me. When he’s a few inches away there’s a
knock on the driver’s side window and we both jump apart, startled.

Declan turns around. “Ma?”

He rolls the window down. His mom
is probably in her early sixties and has blonde hair with some gray mixed in. She’s
rounded, but not fat, and is wearing a black sweater with an earth toned skirt.

“You must be Kate,” she says
leaning over to peer in through the car window. “I’m Declan’s mother, Marion.
It’s good to meet you.” She smiles, and it’s obvious Declan got his fantastic
smile from her.

“It’s nice to meet you too” I say,
embarrassed. Did she see that he nearly kissed me? I feel like a slut. I also
feel guilty coming on to Declan like this when I know he’s involved with someone
else. I’m acting just like that skank Heather—God forbid. Then again I can’t
believe Declan would allow himself to kiss me if he has feelings for Nina,
which gives me a surge of hope.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” She
waves for us to get out of the car. “You must be exhausted from your flight.”

Once we’re outside, I take in my
surroundings. We’re parked in a long circular driveway with a big limestone
house in front. It’s impressive. Declan’s parents live in a ritzy neighborhood.
All the houses have stone walls, iron gates, and the appearance of old money.
Many of them are decorated for Christmas, though not with as many lights as we
do in the states.

Declan grabs my bag from the trunk
as I follow his mother inside. She asks about my flight and says there’s a pot
of soup on the stove and fresh bread. I tell her that Declan and I ate at a
restaurant in Temple Bar, but thank you.

“I have the guestroom all set up
for you,” she says and then turns to Declan. “Bring her bag upstairs, would
you? Also, there’s a message for you from Danny.”

The inside of the house is nice,
but I’m relieved to see that it’s also comfortable. The outside was so imposing
I was worried it’d be like some sort of museum and I’d have to tiptoe around never
speaking above a whisper. Most of the furniture is modern and I get a glimpse
of a big comfy sofa in the living room before we head upstairs. As I’m walking
behind his mother I notice all the photographs on the wall. Lots of family
pictures and I immediately recognize Declan.

“Is that you?” I stop and point to
a school picture of a little boy about ten years old. He has a head of blonde
hair and that gorgeous Declan grin.

“Afraid so,” he says.

“Look at all that hair!”

Declan chuckles. “Yes, once upon a
time I had hair.”

“This is great. You’re so cute!
Where’s this one taken?”

He stands next to me and tells me it
was taken on a trip to Galway. I ask about some of the other photos and he
explains where they were and how old he was. When we get near the end, I see
his mother at the top of the stairs, watching us with approval.   

“If you like those,” she says, “I’ve
got plenty more for you to look through.”

Declan groans behind me. “Ma,
she’s not going to want to look through all my baby pictures.”

“Yes, I
want
to,” I say
immediately, nudging Declan. “Don’t listen to him. I’d love to see his baby
pictures.”

His mother laughs. “I’ll find some
of the albums for you during your visit.”

I follow her into the guestroom
which is decorated with a queen size bed and flowery bedspread, along with an
armoire in the corner, and a bookcase filled with knickknacks and a variety of books.
The nightstand next to the bed has a vase with fresh flowers. It’s obvious some
care was taken to make the room welcoming.

“Thank you,” I say. “This is
really inviting.”

“It gets a bit drafty in here at
night, but there’s an extra blanket on the bed. If you find it’s too chilly,
let me know and I’ll bring in a room heater.”