Page 80 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin
‘Well this is a brand-new chapter for both of us. Let’s just continue to get to know each other and enjoy ourselves in these early days.’
‘Trust the process?’ I suggest.
‘Exactly.’ He pours a drop of milk into my tea and I reach for the last quarter of toast.
‘Let me put you on a fresh slice of toast? That’s gone cold.’ Donal pushes his chair back on the floorboards and all I can see in my mind’s eye are the countless batches of toast I made for Logan and never once did he make me a single slice. What a fool I was. But it’s all led me to this moment.
‘No, this is still warm and delicious.’ I pop it into my mouth.
‘Okay, then when you’re finished your tea, I’ve got something I want to show you.’
‘Oh yeah .?.?. ding, ding! Roundfour?’ I joke, as I slide my hand across the table and take his warm hand. I can’t get enough of him. His eyes light up as he looks at me, in his sweatshirt, mybedhead hair in a messy top knot, yesterday’s blotchy make-up.
‘I can’t tell you how beautiful you are.’ He flips his hand to take mine in his and squeezes it tightly.
‘I want you to grow your beard back, and your hair long again,’ I tell him, ‘but only if you want to.’
‘You do?’ he gasps at my admission.
‘Yeah, I do, I don’t want you to have to change to fit in.’ It makes me teary for some reason.
‘I do miss the beard.’ He runs his hand over his light stubble. ‘But I think the hair had to go. Thank you, though, that means a lot.’
‘I like you whatever you look like .?.?.’ I swallow the last piece of toast. He comes around to me and holds out his hands for me to take. I take them and slowly stand up. Donal looks down at me, drapes his arms around my neck, and softly kisses me.
‘I like you, too. I like everything about you. It was instant for me. The second you looked up at me on Exchequer Street in your white vest and denim shorts, I felt it. I can’t explain it. Then when we started to talk, I just knew. It was your energy. I don’t think you know just how special you are, but believe you me, I will show you. I will treat you like you’ve never been treated before. And I’ve a plan for tonight, if that’s okay? We’re going to curl up on my bed and watchThe Mirror Has Two Faces– you mentioned you’d love to see it – order Wagamama and a big tub of Ben & Jerry’s, just you and me .?.?. but the bell is about to ring and .?.?.’
A ring makes me jump.
‘Who’s that?’ I start. ‘The state of me.’ My face is probably so blotchy and red Picasso could claim it as his own.
‘It’s Amanda .?.?. and herplan,’ he tells me rubbing his hands together.
‘Whatplan?’ I ask bewildered.
But he’s already let go of my hands and made his way out thedoor. I take our teacups to the sink, go back for the plates as I hear mumblings, and then Donal and Amanda enter. Amanda, dressed in a black skirt suit, hair plaited down her back, is carrying her usual stacks of files under her arm.
‘Good morning. Well now, I recognise that sweatshirt!’ Amanda gives me the most dramatic wink as I dry my hands on a brand-new tea towel.
‘Morning, Amanda!’ Not remotely embarrassed, I shove the sink-plug stopper in and run water into the sink.
‘So how did the call go with Carla Deliginue? I got stuck trying to get a hammered Uncle Barry up the steps of the bus. He was trying to walk up backwards again. And you heard he caught the bouquet?’
Donal snorts laughing.
‘Wasn’t funny!’ Amanda scolds him. ‘I wanted it! Anyway, ye left rather fast.’ She pulls another face as she drops the files onto the table, collapses onto the chair.
‘I talked to her, all right. I was telling Donal this morning. She was so nice. Pretty straightforward chat, she wants a replica of Kathleen’s gold dress,’ I tell Amanda. It was less than a five-minute phone call I had last night with Carla as I sat on the black, steel chairs outside overlooking Howth Head, the stars twinkling in the night sky. She was a woman of my own style, who knew what she wanted. To the point, polite, matter of fact.
‘Amazeballs. Did ye agree on a price?’
‘We did.’ I bite my bottom lip.
‘And?’ Amanda rolls her finger.
‘And she needs the dress in three weeks! Hand-delivered by me to Los Angeles, plus final fittings. She will pay for the flights and she’s putting me up at the Chateau Marmont! I mean, can you actually? It really was the most perfect evening! Imagine if I’m staying in room thirty-six where Montgomery Clift hunkered down after his car accident in nineteen-fifty-six; or suite thirty-two where Jean Harlow spent the last of her three honeymoons!’
‘This isn’tJeopardywe’re playing.’ Amanda rolls her eyes, good-natured. ‘The answer I am looking for isn’t what is Chateau Marmont! How’d you know all this anyway?’
