Page 23 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
We eyeball one another curiously.
‘Ohhh. That was m-mad,’ I stammer, pressing down on my breastbone to steady my breath.
I sit back.
He sits back.
Our eyes lock.
Chapter Twelve
Then I remember to breathe. I point at him from across the table. ‘Clamper .?.?. uh-huh, that has to be the worst!’ But my heart’s still racing a little faster. That was so weird is what I’m really thinking. We are so alike.
‘Howdothey sleep at night?’ His lip curls again, then he nods to the plate of wings. ‘Don’t let them go cold,’ he says, and we happily tuck into the chicken wings in a lovely, comfortable silence. I don’t feel any need to fill the stillness as we people-watch and eat. The restaurant is filling up to capacity and a chatty queue forms behind the PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED sign. The famous secret-wings-recipe sauce is utterly delicious but hot and spicy so I drain my water.
Donal sees my empty glass and puts down his pint to pour me another, but there is only a dribble of water left.
‘You’re almost out of wine, too. Oh, sorry, I’ve been having such a good time I hadn’t noticed. Forgive me, won’t happen on the next date,’ he says, but as he twists in his seat to get the attention of the busy staff, I feel riddled with guilt. I stare at the ground. I need to tell him this isn’t a date-date.
‘Grace? Hello? Grace? I said are ya all right?’ Donal’s waving his hand slowly in front of me. I jerk back to the moment and focus on him as a look of pure concern washes over his face.
‘Um, yeah, sorry. Yeah, I’m f-fine.’ I uncurl my hands, I feel a sheen of sweat on my forehead. ‘I-I just had a busy day .?.?. eh, long, ya know.’
‘I was just checking. It was a Pinot .?.?. but .?.?. I saw .?.?.’ he trails off.
I dip my fingers in the bowl, wipe them in my stained napkin and crush it into a ball.
‘You’re tired.’ He shakes his head at the approaching waiter.
‘Full,’ I say as he makes the sign for the bill. Then, ‘What? No. No!’ I protest. ‘Finish your wings, please! And are you getting the bill? W-why?’ Again I stutter, confused, fumbling to grab my glass for the end of my wine.
‘It’s fine, I can see .?.?. you’re tired.’ His eyebrows squish together as he fidgets with the metal cord ends on the uneven strings on his hoodie. He pulls them so that the toggles are even.
‘Oh, um .?.?. do I look tired? No, it’s just, I was busy today but a bit, yeah, just a little bit. I’ve been working so hard with this client, you see. The wedding date is nearly upon us and there are three bridesmaids and I’ve one flying in from America .?.?.’ I’m thrown and babbling. ‘But don’t .?.?. you don’t have to get the bill, we can finish the dinner?’ Now I’m not sure if he wants out or if he genuinely thinks I look tired.
‘Can I say something to you?’ Donal’s voice is now soft and very low as he leans over almost face-to-face with me. I can see the muscles twitching in his neck.
‘Sure.’ I’m more than a little baffled at all this and his change in tone.
‘I know I overstepped the mark mentioning a second date, because now I’m not sure you even consider this a date, and that’s all on me. Let’s call it a night? Why don’t you take the wings to go? Be a shame to waste them. I’d a lovely night, thank you, Grace. I loved spending time with you. You were so refreshing to talk to—’
Olivia is back now, fast with the bill and she drops it in the centre of the table on a little silver tray with two wrapped mints.
‘Can we box these up to go, please?’ Donal asks her, pointingto the wings, and I’m completely flummoxed that he’s cut the date short. I never got to ask him to Mia’s divorce party. But somehow, suddenly I don’t really care about that. I do care that I’ve hurt his feelings.
‘No .?.?. I-I didn’t. I don’t .?.?.’ I hold my hand across my chest to steady my breath again.
‘You don’t want me to box them to take away?’ Olivia asks me.
‘Not for me .?.?. No, um, you take them, Donal,’ I mumble.
Donal nods at her and she picks up the bowl. ‘Sure, yeah, I hate to waste food, ya know.’
‘Aye, I’ll just grab a wee box.’ She heads back towards the kitchen, clearly reading the room.
‘I mean .?.?. I want .?.?. please, let me go halves on the bill, at least.’ I twist in my chair to reach back for my bag.
‘Not at all. Please, let me pay, if that’s okay? I asked you out, after all .?.?.’ He tilts his head as I raise my eyes to meet his.
