Page 76 of Experiments in Offline Dating

Tadhg drove me down the road as we waited for the next potential husband, whom I would soon call Milksop Michael.

“That’s him there, I think. He texted that he’d be in a Škoda.”

But when the driver’s door opened, it wasn’t a young (or old) man who stepped out but, rather, a tiny, middle-aged woman. She started off very determinedly in our direction.

“No, it’s a lady—”

“That’s him.”

Out of the passenger’s door emerged a man, who followed the woman toward us. My mouth was still hanging open when the lady rapped on Tadhg’s window with a tight little fist and sent Finn into a barking fit.

“Peggy Doyle here. Jackie said you’d be in a Jeep. Is this the girl, then?”

Tadhg scowled, but the woman didn’t react. He got out, then moved the seat for me. “Hello. I’m Jackie’s son Tadhg. Glad to see you’ve made it in all right.”

“Two hours’ drive and traffic blocked like a gut after Christmas. She’d better be worth it, or you can tell your pa the deal’s off, after the last girl. Bold as brass, that one. You wouldn’t believe the mouth on her. Scared my Davey half to death.”

“Is that so?” Tadhg answered in a voice that said more than his words, his eyes flicking at the man in question with clear dislike, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Probably because she was too busy studying me climbing out inelegantly from the back of the Jeep, all awkward arms and elbows like a baby Surinam toad emerging from the back of its mother. This was still better than the view a moment later, which involved far too much breasts.

The woman audibly harrumphed. I looked around her at the guy standing awkwardly behind her—her son, I supposed—and decided to address him first. “Hey. I’m Maya.”

“I’m Davey . . . um, Dave, I mean.”

“Hi, Dave.” I felt kind of bad for the guy. He seemed about my age and wasn’t bad-looking. But he didn’t smile, and nor did he step up to shake my hand or engage me in conversation while his mother complained about the traffic and indigestion to Tadhg. “So, I hear we’re going to a waterfall, that should be fun.”

“I—”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” his mother said over him. Oh, wooow.

Tadhg cut in before I could blurt something stupid. “Right, then, Maya. I’ll see you in the parking lot at Torc Waterfall in an hour. That okay for you?”

“We’ve traveled a long way for only an hour,” answered Peggy. He ignored her.

“Yes, that’ll be perfect, Tadhg, thanks. I’ll text you if we’re early.”

That was when an old-fashioned horse and buggy pulled up. I gasped. It was an adorable old-world wooden wagon, painted yellow, with a little roof in case it rained. The driver spoke to Tadhg with a thick accent of which I could understand only a few words.

Davey, or Dave, or whatever, climbed in first, without offering a helping hand. That’s okay. Maybe he doesn’t like touching strangers either. I sat down next to him on the bench, not quite touching.

“Not there. You should sit across, so that we can get a good look at you.”

My head whipped over my shoulder to see, to my utter astonishment, the mom, and she was climbing up into the buggy, our buggy. I shot a wild look at Tadhg—his eyes were wide, and he took a little step back as if he didn’t know what to do.

“Oh. I. Um . . .” I said, the picture of grace.

“Well, come on, girl, get up and move before this contraption starts rolling.”

I did as she said, crossed over to the bench on the opposite side, wide-eyed, and sat down slowly, as if this were all a dream.

“Um. Oh. Are you . . .? Are you going to come with us? On the date?” For someone who had just done a double date with not one but two sets of parents, I didn’t know why I was quite so shocked. But this woman. She’d been sprung on me. And she was a real humdinger!

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? I had to drive Davey all the way down from Tipperary, so what would you suggest I do while I wait?” She didn’t give me time to suggest a colonic. “Of course I’m coming. You’ll hardly even notice I’m here.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“What?”

You said that out loud!