Page 24 of An Irish Hope

“Sure it is.”

“Hey, you couldn’t sink it easily either.” Grady had never taken criticism well.

Andy knew he was competitive, but Grady was next level. Finally his ball went in.

They walked to the next one. Here the tee box jutted out on a small headland, beyond which lay the waves and rocky islands of the Wild Atlantic. He paused to take in the incredible views that surrounded him on 270 degrees.

“Come on, Andy. Get into it.”

He teed off, his ball landing perfectly in the middle of the fairway.

“You got the distance but not the line.”

“Yeah.” Whatever that was.

Grady sank his ball, then waited for Andy, who took two more attempts to sink his. “Finally.”

“It’s more challenging than it looks,” Andy protested.

“Exactly.” Grady nodded. “I’m very happy with a birdie on that hole.”

They finished with a drink in the clubhouse, and as Andy drank his Dungarvon red ale, he mused on the past forty-eight hours.

So much had happened. So much felt like it remained unknown. Regardless, the past two days had felt one hundred percent an improvement on this time last year, when he’d been sobbing in his granny flat, existing on home delivery because he’d been unable to see a soul, not even his family. Thank God that Grady had been willing to take a day off working at his accountancy firm and able to come this weekend.

“So, what are you thinking about so seriously over there?” Grady asked.

“I’m just grateful that you could come this weekend. It’s been a darn sight better than being here on my own.”

“Almost as good as a honeymoon, eh? On second thoughts, ignore that. I should say almost as good as being on a honeymoon with a good wife, not one like Greta, may her name be ever cursed.” Grady held up his beer.

“I don’t want her cursed, exactly.”

“But it would be nice if she was to come crawling back, wouldn’t it?” Grady grinned. “You know I don’t believe much about this God of yours, but I don’t mind praying for that.”

“I wouldn’t want her, even if she did crawl back on her hands and knees.”

“Just as well. Because if she ever was to come crawling back and you so much as agreed to listen to her, then as your friend I feel I’d be within my rights to say I would disown you.”

Andy munched on the crisps, swallowing some pride. Yes, he might’ve said some things that had earned him that rebuke. “There might’ve once been a time when I would have done that but not anymore.”

“Good. I’m glad you’ve got some self-respect at last.”

“Hey, I’ve always had self-respect.” But he was trying to do things God’s way. And God was Someone who was into forgiveness and second chances.

“I’m just saying that when a woman shows a man who she is, then he should believe her.” He smiled. “Like that woman you sang with last night. You know, the one you bumped into. She might’ve put on a show last night but you shouldn’t forget how she first treated you.”

“She was stressed. And I ripped her dress.”

“She ripped her dress because she wasn’t looking where she was going. And then she blamed you. Look, I’ve come across my fair share of women over the years, and I just know that you need to be careful. Women always have a hidden agenda.”

“That’s a little extreme.”

Grady shook his head. “That’s why I play the field. Everyone knows it’s nothing but a good time, so there’s no hard feelings at the end.” He downed the last of his drink, then eyed Andy over the rim. “Not like with you and Greta, anyway.”

He shifted his gaze out the window again. Okay, so he’d spent a little long in misery land. It didn’t mean it wasn’t justified. “Look, I told you I’ve decided I’m not dating anyone for a while. So you don’t need to worry about me, okay?”

“I’ve heard that before,” Grady muttered.