Page 347 of Manhattan Bossholes

“You’re the nanny, right? Olivia?” Marie asked.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s nice to meet more of Catie’s family.”

“Would you like a cup of tea? I figure we can have a nice chat, then you can have the morning off to do whatever you’d like while Catie and I make soda bread.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Declan had mentioned something about my taking the morning off yesterday, but then Catie had spilled a glass of apple juice I’d promptly switched focus.

I wondered if there was a café nearby I could go to. I should have brought a book. Maybe I could go by the children’s bookstore and see if Molly was there?

But once I sat down in Marie’s kitchen, I had a hard time motivating myself to leave. As I cradled a mug of tea in my hands, Marie’s lovely accent made small talk around me as I sipped the tea and let the caffeine hit my system. She told me all about how Declan had wanted to buy her something grander, but she’d known that she’d feel lonely in anything bigger. Besides, it was a short walk to the bay, and she loved the hustle and bustle of the city.

When the talk turned to baking, I found myself asking, “Do you make soda bread often?”

“Well, now and again. More often this time of year, since I’m trying to perfect it before the festival competition. More tea?”

“Sure. What type of festival?” I asked.

“Do you know that old 70s film, The Deer and the Warrior?”

I shook my head.

“Well, it’s considered quite a classic, and it was filmed in Ballybeith. Since that’s the only claim our small village has to fame, we’ve been throwing a summer festival to celebrate it ever since. It’s a weeklong affair, culminating in a big party around a bonfire.”

“And a soda bread competition,” I said.

Marie smiled. “And a soda bread competition.”

I looked around the homey kitchen, feeling a type of longing I rarely did. Most of the places I worked in were elaborate mansions. But this place—this place felt like a home.

I wondered what it would be like to stay in one place for decades, participating in local traditions.

“I’d love to learn how to make soda bread someday,” I said, feeling a little wistful.

Marie cocked her head. “Would you like to learn to, today? I assumed you’d appreciate a few hours to yourself, but if you’d like to stay…”

“Yes,” I said, a little surprised at how quickly I agreed.

Marie laughed. “That’s what I like about Americans. Always quick to say yes.” She glanced off in the direction of where Catie was still sleeping. “I didn’t realize how early this would be for Catie. Why don’t you and I start on the bread now? Then Catie can have a treat when she wakes up.”

So she taught me how to plump the raisins in a bowl of water, then measure the ingredients into a big bowl and stir. She turned on a radio, alternately chatting with me, or humming along to the music.

“So have you always lived here?” I asked.

Marie’s smile faded a bit. “No. My husband and I lived in Ballybeith for many years. It’s where Declan and Sinead grew up. But after my husband passed…well.” She poked at the dough and, apparently determining it was firm enough, she tipped the bowl over and scooped it into a round cake pan. “I stayed until Sinead graduated secondary school. But after that, I moved here. I’ll always love Ballybeith, but it’s nice to buy your groceries without anyone giving you a pitying look.”

I knew what she meant. I’d lost my own parents when I was in high school. Starting college and meeting new people had felt like a breath of fresh air.

I looked down at my own dough, wondering if Declan had been around the same age as me when he lost his dad. “I’m sorry you lost someone you loved.”

“Thank you, dear.” Marie’s smile was bittersweet, but quietly resigned. “It’s been years, but I’ll never forget what a big help Declan was. All I wanted to do was cry, but he was so strong, making sure Sinead kept up with her schoolwork, making sure we all had something to eat every night.” She fell silent. “I regret how quickly he had to grow up, but I’m proud of him too.”

“As you should be,” I said. I didn’t have to like the man to admit Declan Byrne was impressive. Perhaps more impressive than I’d realized.

Catie and I ended up spending most of the day at Marie’s. There was a heartbreaking moment when Catie first woke up—she’d had a bad dream about her mom finding a new job and a new kid, so she never came to Ireland to get Catie. But once Marie and I had reassured her that that was never going to happen, Catie had been able to perk up and enjoy the rest of the time with her grandmother.

Now Catie and I were finishing the day off in the children’s bookstore. But whereas before Catie had enthusiastically pulled the books she wanted, now she half-heartedly ran a hand over the book spines, without actually taking anything off the shelf. All her delight at seeing Grandma seemed to have worn off.

“You okay, kiddo?” I asked.