Page 38 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Girl! Hey! I’m Kathleen, so great to finally meet you!’ The enthusiasm hits me in the face as I try to prise the brown carpet out from under the hall door where it’s jammed, yet again. The afternoon sunshine illuminates the stunning, petite woman standing in front of me. I’ve spent far too long this morning wondering how Donal got on with his date, it’s time to focus.
‘Kathleen Kearney,’ the youngest of the Kearney sisters tells me, with a strong handshake. She’s bare-faced, with tightly Dutch-braided, sun-kissed hair, second-skin black workout gear, luminous-yellow runners and a tiny red bag strapped across her body. Her youthful skin is plump and glowing. She is very different to her three sisters – immediately she reminds me of a young Sarah Jessica Parker.
‘Look different, don’t I? The runt of the litter, they used to say!’ Her laugh is so big for her frame it’s unexpected.
‘Hi, Kathleen! Of course, sorry about this bloody carpet.’
I reef the door free and welcome her inside out of the blazing sun.
‘Funny, all four of you have the exact same green eyes and I’d know immediately you were sisters. Coffee?’ I ask her when we reach the stuffy kitchen and I fill the kettle. It’s just gone two-fifteen and she’s fifteen minutes early for her two-thirty appointment; my fresh coffee sits steaming on the table.
‘No, thank you, though. I’ve had two large mugs this morning at my brother’s, bloody jetlag.’ She has a softer speaking toneand demeanour than her older sisters.
‘Let me just get your bridesmaid dressssss,’ I sing, smiling at her.
‘No, please sit down and get your coffee, I’m early. My brother is renovating an old Georgian townhouse on Fitzwilliam Square and I’ve only ever seen it over FaceTime so I wanted to detour past on my way here. Couldn’t wait to see it with my own two eyes.’
‘Oh, wow, my favourite of the five Dublin squares. It will cost a small fortune, I bet?’ I say, in awe of anyone who can afford to buy on Fitzwilliam Square.
‘Peter R. is a genius at finding properties that are so run down they’re too big a job for most people to take on. He’s hardworking, patient and brilliant at what he does. And right? The beauty of that square? I so enjoyed the walk there, no one walks anywhere in LA. I miss walking so much.’ I notice a definite twang of an American accent here and there as I get the milk.
‘I walk everywhere,’ I tell her. ‘I don’t even have a car.’
‘Girl, stop! I’ve to drive everywhere in LA – and don’t get me started on the freeway traffic! Nightmarish.’
‘I hear that a lot about LA traffic,’ I reply. ‘Or rather, I’ve binged all the seasons ofSelling Sunset.’ I laugh.
‘Right! Super fun, isn’t it? Actually, of late, I’m up in the Hills a lot, private classes, so a lot of those huge houses you see, I’ve been in!’
‘Ahh, way too big for me, too much cleaning,’ I quip. ‘Not my forte.’
‘How’s my dress looking? I hope the email with my measurements was sufficient? I hopped down to Rodeo Drive from Santa Monica and bought a dress for another party I’m going to at the Chateau Marmont, where I also teach, so I got the sales guy to measure me. Two birds.’ She smiles and remindsme of someone. Maybe it’s Belinda, but could be Amanda, or Denise?
‘Well, just looking at you, I think we’re onto a winner,’ I tell her knowingly, with my expert eye for people’s dress sizes.
‘As you know, I’m a yoga and Pilates teacher, so my weight doesn’t tend to fluctuate. Much to the annoyance of my sisters.’ She throws out that laugh again, so hearty for her diminutive body.
‘They’re brilliant,’ I enthuse as I locate the milk and add a decent drop.
‘They’re the best. Miss my family all s’much. Don’t get home enough. I’ve a lot of well-known clients and LA is super competitive on the yoga mat.’
‘I bet.’ I stir, drop the spoon into the sink with a clank.
‘I’m so stoked for Belinda. Stevo’s such a lovely man. He was great when she got pregnant with Max so young. Just great. What you see is what you get. At eight months, he used to strap a pillow down his mechanic’s overalls to show solidarity with her! Did she tell you that? Never thought they’d get married, though. Belinda always said she never would. Not after our parents’ attempt at the vows.’ Kathleen tugs a braid.
‘Her dress is stunning on her.’ I pull out a chair and sit opposite her.
‘Oh, she was always the prettiest of us all – those full, natural lips – though she’s never felt it, always beating herself up about her weight. Funny, isn’t it? How we’re all so hard on ourselves, us women?’
‘Yeah.’ I blow into my cup and the coffee ripples.
‘It’s why I love yoga so much, it’s about so much more than toning the physique. It’s a lot of breath work and learning to love your body for all it does. Not for how it looks. A strong body is not necessarily a skinny body, that’s what I try to teach anyway. We’re all brainwashed. MENstream media.’ Her glossed mouthpurses.
‘Tell me about it,’ I tell her. ‘I’ve had a few brides who literally starve themselves before their wedding day, bawling down the phone to me the morning of because the dress doesn’t fit, won’t stay up because it’s too big!’
‘Stop.’ She shakes her head.
