“No. I mean yes. I mean, he’s Levi.”
“ ‘He’s Levi’? Is that some sort of Yank expression I’m
not aware of?” he teased. “So he’s your best friend. He’s a
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Levi, whatever that means. I don’t really see what the problem is.”
“It’s difficult.” I began to walk faster to the harbor.
“Yes, you keep reminding me of that. But here’s the thing.
It doesn’t sound that difficult. You’re only making it difficult. It sounds like there’s a lot between you. Don’t be afraid
to make it even more.”
I smiled tightly, not sure if I should believe him or not. So
I played it lightly. “Since when did you become some sort of
relationship expert?”
He looked at me amusedly. “ ’Tis common sense, really.”
I faced the harbor, which was lined up with buses bursting
with tourists. “So I better go see this dolphin.”
Ever since I’d arrived in Dingle, everybody had been asking me if I’d seen Fungie, the town dolphin. There was a
statue of him right next to the information center where
Gran worked. I’d gotten my picture taken with the statue my
first week there but hadn’t seen Fungie yet.
“It is rather shocking that you’ve been here for six weeks
and haven’t gone.” Liam took out his phone and gestured at
me to pose for yet another photo by the statue. “Have some
pride in Dingle, will ya?”
I sulked next to the statue. “It feels a bit touristy.”
“Right. Because you’re not a tourist.” He snapped the photo. “We’ve got to make sure to get everything in over
the next few days. Because you’ll be home soon. So there’s lots
to do. Including a decision that needs to be made.”
He didn’t have to remind me.
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The next two weeks flew by. Gran and Gramps did everything to make sure I got to see as much as I could before I
left. I was almost too tired for my farewell party, but if there was one thing I’d learned during my two months in Ireland,
it was that the Irish knew how to throw a good party.
My grandparents’ backyard was transformed into an
impromptu music session. We hung up fairy lights around
the trees to make it even more magical. Gran and Gramps’s
friends, who had become like an extended family to me,
started trickling into the backyard. Some of Gramps’s musician friends brought their instruments, and music soon
started to fill the cool evening.
Liam arrived with his mom. “Hey, I brought you something to remember me by,” he said. He handed me a CD; the
cover was the photo of me with the Fungie statue. I opened
up the case and saw a listing of Irish bands he’d introduced
me to during my visit. “While I love all things American, we
Irish have superior music. Not like you have any Yank bands
on your iTunes, you Anglophile. So it’s time you heard some
proper, non-U2 Irish bands.”
“Thanks!” I gave him a hug, grateful to have had him
around during my visit.
Gramps asked everybody to quiet down. “I want to thank
you all for coming here to bid our favorite granddaughter
good-bye.”
“Your only granddaughter,” I clarified.
There was laughter from the guests.
“But I think it would only be appropriate to send Macallan
off with a parting glass.”
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There were nods from their friends, who lifted up a glass.
I joined them in the toast, but was unfamiliar with the song
they started to play.
Gramps looked at me fondly and began to sing,
Of all the money that e’er I had,
I spent it in good company.
And all the harm that ever I’ve done
Alas, it was to none but me.
And for all I’ve done for want of wit,
To mem’ry now I can’t recall.
Everybody joined in at this part:
So fill to me the parting glass.
Good night and joy be with you all.
Gran then joined Gramps as he wrapped his arm around
her. She sang in a clear beautiful voice:
To all the comrades that e’er I had,
They’re sorry for my going away.
She smiled warmly at me.
And all the sweethearts that e’er I had,
They’d wish me one more day to stay.
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should rise and you should not,
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I’ll gently rise and softly call.
Good night and joy be with you all.
I felt tears rolling down my face. I should’ve been sad about
leaving my grandparents and this wonderful place, but the
tears weren’t for them.
And Liam knew it. “I’ll make it simple for you,” he said,
leaning in. “If you want to be with him, be with him.”
My throat felt tight. “I can’t.”
He shook his head. Liam often teased me about making
things difficult — typical American, he’d fondly call me. “I’d ask why, but you and I both know there isn’t any excuse good enough. Stop making excuses and be with him.”
I knew he was right. And it terrified me.
“Do you want to be with him?”
I didn’t think. I answered what I knew was the truth. “Yes.”
“Then be with him.” He got up and joined the group at the