Page 19 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
‘I’m happy to be here .?.?. oh, you know what I mean. It’s always awkward, isn’t it? This dating malarkey. But I’ll be honest. Mia – that’s my friend I was telling you about – she set me up on the site without my knowledge. She, too, thinks I need to get out there more.’ I twist, draping my bag across the arm of my chair, and lift the jug of water and pour us both a glass. ‘It’sso warm, this top might have been a mistake .?.?. You can never tell with air conditioning. Dublin isn’t used to this type of long-running heatwave.’ I blow air up towards my forehead.
‘You look absolutely stunning, by the way.’ His eyes narrow as he says this, and then he hits his forehead, ‘Oh, come on. It’s called Beyond Looks, and I mention looks. Jesus, Donal .?.?. the two things I was not supposed to say and I say both of them straight out of the blocks.’ He scrapes his hand over his face as if he can wash away his perceived faux pas.
‘That’s totally okay.’ I’m feeling much more relaxed now. ‘I accept the compliment graciously.’ Wearing a silly grin, I’m thankful that the waitress is back with a refill of the spilled pint for Donal.
‘Whiplash for you, wasn’t it?’ she asks Donal as she puts the beer on a beermat in front of him.
Logan’s drink, I immediately think.
‘Yeah, thanks .?.?.’ Donal reads her name badge, ‘Olivia. Oh, sorry, my manners, would you like a drink, Grace?’ he asks me, his fingers making that claw grip again. He rolls his hair back off his face and Olivia hovers.
I clasp my hands together. ‘Love one! Can I get a glass of Pinot Grigio, please, with ice on the side?’ I ask Olivia.
‘Aye, and I’ll be back to take your order in a wee minute,’ Olivia says, in her strongly lilted Northern Irish accent.
I look across at Donal, who’s twisting his long hair and tucking it behind his neck. Then he picks up his pint and his hair falls back over both shoulders. Again, he attempts to settle it, his long fingers swiping through the locks that grow wildly down over his thin shoulders. Donal is fifty per cent hair.
‘Sorry about the short notice,’ I tell him, ‘I’ve a big wedding coming up I’m doing the dresses for. Like I was telling you, I’m a dress designer.’
‘Of course, I remember.’ The way he says this evokes astrange emotion in me. I’m not sure what it is. It’s like I’m someone very important. Like how could he ever forget me. I like the feeling. I say nothing for a second.
‘I was really taken with your one-line description that you’re just interested in a true connection. It was refreshing,’ he says. ‘I’m in the same boat. But now I’m assuming your friend Mia wrote that?’ I get an infusion of warmth from him when he talks. ‘And the fact we’d already met twice .?.?. Well, it felt right, and I don’t want to sound corny but .?.?. it felt like it was a bitfatey? Is fatey a word?’ He looks down, shaking his head.
‘Wow, that was corny.’ I rip the piss, grimacing at him playfully.
He lifts his head and smiles broadly. ‘It so was.’
We both laugh and a tension is released. I shuffle my feet under the table. My thoughts are a little unfocused. I’m a little bit confused by how he makes me feel. Like I’m alive. Like I matter to him already.
Donal unfolds his napkin, places it on his knees. ‘I wouldn’t mind but I literally got off the phone to my sister before I left the square. I was telling her all about you, and then seeing your profile on Beyond Looks and she was giving me one of her pep talks – “Don’t keep sayingballs,” which apparently I do a lot; and “Don’t mentionlooks,” and I did both straight out.’
‘Well, I don’t mind your use of the word balls, and like I said, I’m flattered,’ I reassure him, trying to forget my motives and just enjoy his lovely company.
‘Once I haven’t blown our date before you even sat down?’ He narrows his eyes. ‘’Cause that wouldn’t surprise me in the least.’
I shift a little uncomfortably in my seat. ‘Not at all.’ It’s not entirely untruthful. This isn’t a date-date, but he’s such a lovely guy. I’ve never met anyone like Donal before. I’ll tell him why I accepted this date. I’ll tell him about not wanting to face Logan alone after dinner and ask him to come to the party with me as afriend. That’s the fairest thing to do. But for now, I want to relax and enjoy his easy company.
I shake out my own napkin now. ‘So how many Before Looks dates have you been on?’ I ask.
As he does a quick count on those impossibly long fingers, I think how he seems to occupy so much space. His neck is long, his arms are long, his fingers are long, he’s just a long person.
‘This is my eighth, I think?’ he says. ‘But you’re the first who’s actually stuck around this long!’ Then he laughs, and I notice his perfectly straight white teeth for the first time.
I react with a flinch. ‘No?’
He’s still laughing. ‘Ah, just like that last woman I told you about, whose granny’s cat was stuck up a tree, they didn’t fancy me, either. I get it. Most had a quick drink and made their excuses. Saying you don’t need to fancy someone is one thing, but proving the theorem is another. I probably need to filter my picture, I mean the app is called Beyond Looks, but it appears to me that this modern dating world is still very superficial.’ He takes a sip of his pint; the white froth lingers on his beard.
‘Don’t be silly,’ I tell him but I do think of his profile picture and how it’s not a great representation of him.
He grins. ‘I’m grand with it, I’m looking for a real connection, I don’t care how long it takes me.’
‘I get you.’ I admire his honesty.
‘So, are you looking for a new man after .?.?. Logan, wasn’t it?’ He comes straight out with it and it takes me a little off-guard.
I take a breath. A beat. ‘Listen, Donal, I’m not sure. I’m just open to conversation, eating a nice dinner with good company, making new friends, you know? I don’t have any other agenda yet.’ Obviously, not true, but I really don’t want to hurt his feelings. He likes me, I know he does. I have that warm feeling you get when you know someone likes you, but I also haven’t led him on with my answer. I let what I’ve told him sink in and busymyself with a sip of water while I wait for Olivia to come back with my wine, though I’m spitting feathers at this stage.
Donal drops his chin into his hand. Thinking for a few seconds. ‘Sure. Okay, then, sounds good to me. Now, can we start over, Grace?’ he asks, nodding slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
