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“Yes, in fact, that was part of my plan for the day,” I tell her and she reaches over and squeezes my arm.
We eat our brunch and set out on our tour of Athlone. She holds my hand and leans in close to me as we pass by all the shops until we reach the Church of Saints Peter and Paul. She lets go of my hand and gazes up at the massive structure for a moment then takes out her phone and begins clicking photos. I smile and say, “Give me your phone. I’ll take your photo on the stairs.” She’s practically beaming when she hands over the device and strikes a pose.
We enter the church and she gasps at the marble pulpit illuminated by streams of red and blue light. “Sunday mass just ended. That’s why the lights are on,” I tell her.
“This is amazing,” she exclaims as she turns her attention to the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows.
“It’s not the oldest or most famous church in town but it’s the one that I came to with my mother when I was a child. I was Christened in the baptism center right outside,” I tell her.
“Well, it’s beautiful. Thank you for showing me,” she replies.
She returns to her place at my side and I grasp her hand as we walk slowly along the River Shannon toward the castle. She smiles at me and says, “I never imagined seeing anything like this in my life and now, I live here.”
I smile back at her and tell her, “I never imagined meeting a girl like you in my life and now, here you are.”
She stops, stands on her toes, and wraps her arms around my neck. I lift her from the waist and kiss her sweet lips.
We reach the stone keep of the castle courtyard where mimes and minstrels are entertaining a crowd of tourists here for the Saint Paddy’s festivities and make our way to the wall so Daniela can take in the panoramic view of our beautiful city then enter the museum. I’ve been here many times as a school boy but observing her seeing these things for the first time invigorates me.
“Can you imagine living here, in this castle, and being a Lord or a Lady waking up to this view every morning?” she asks me.
“You couldn’t be a Lady because you’d always be my princess,” I reply.
We return to the keep and a mime in silk pajamas steps in our path. He performs a mock marriage proposal and, while on his knees, hands Daniela a bouquet of artificial flowers. She smirks and tells me that I may have some competition for her affection and I put up my dukes in a mock fit of anger. The mime throws his arms up to cover his black and white checkered face and backs away. It’s the first time I’ve heard Daniela’s sweet laugh.
It’s late afternoon and the sun will be setting soon so we leave the castle for the final stop of my walking tour, the nature trail on the banks of the Shannon. We walk up the gravel trail and the city disappears under the rolling mounds of tall grass. We come upon a field of wildflowers and Daniela runs into the grass and plops down on the ground. I follow her lead and take a seat beside her on the soft grass. She plucks a handful of flowers, dog violets, and lavender, and weaves them together into a wreath that she places on her head. “They match the flowers on your dress,” I tell her as I stand and take her hands to lift her to her feet.
“Is it silly?” she asks me.
“No, it’s lovely,” I reply.
“Oh! Look what I found,” she exclaims, reaching down into a clump of green, She rises and shows me a four-leaf clover.
“Now, you have your own little piece of the luck o’ the Irish,” I tell her.
She winks and says, “I thought you were my piece of the luck o’ the Irish,”
“Clover…” I place my hand on my chin and mull it over for a moment. “That’s what you are. My little clover. I’m the luckiest man on the island because I have you.” I lay down in the tall grass and she takes her place beside me with her head on my chest as a flower-scented breeze passes over us and we close our eyes and take it all in.
She lifts her head and presses her lips to mine and I feel the tension growing inside my ruffled jeans. I want her so badly but I can’t just take her here so I get up from the ground and we start walking again. We walk by a small hill and I point and tell her, “That’s called a sidhe (shee). It’s where the fairies live.”
She giggles and asks, “Are there really fairies?”
I shrug and say, “I’ve never seen one but I won’t say that they don’t exist. You never want to piss off a fairy.” She giggles harder and hugs my arm.
The sun sets as we make our way back up the river toward the pub. I know she must be hungry so I decide to stop at the Fatted Calf for supper. We drink three bottles of wine with our supper and I find myself opening up a bit more than a sober me ever would. Daniela listens intently as I tell her about my rocky childhood and how my father almost sold the pub when he married her mother. I admit to her that I was angry that her mother’s desire to travel on expensive vacations took precedence over preserving our family legacy but that my father inevitably thought better of liquidating my inheritance and allowed me to take over the pub. She confesses that she too has had a rocky relationship with her mother and a difficult childhood and I feel an even closer connection to her than I did before. I feel as though I was meant to provide for her and protect her.
We walk back to the pub and make our way up to her room. She sits beside me on the sofa and I sense that something is troubling her. My hands tremble as I try to imagine what I might have done to make her uncomfortable and I place my hand on her knee.
“Is there something bothering you? Was it something I said?” I ask her.
She looks into my eyes and tells me, “I know how this night is supposed to end. You want to have sex, right?”
I’m dumbstruck and feel like a rat caught in a trap. Does she not want to be with me? Have I gotten all of the signals wrong? How could that be possible? I need to know what she’s feeling so I just blurt it out. “Do you not want to have sex with me, Clover?”
7
A Difficult Confession
