Chapter 10

“Ian, what happened while Mary and I were away today?” Nana demanded. She stood with her hands on her hips, scowling, and the tone of her voice was enough to make Ian sit up straighter. He’d never seen her so furious. Not even when he was fifteen and he’d taken her car and picked up his friends and gone joyriding. He didn’t know what she was so angry about. Yet. It was either Johanna or Frank. Jo must have squealed on him, told her how he’d ditched her and turned the physical therapist away.

In his mind, he went over the conversation with Jo earlier that day. If he’d insulted or offended her, he didn’t know when he did it or what he’d said. It wasn’t his fault that she didn’t know how to drive a manual. With lack of a car and driver out of the equation, he wouldn’t have to entertain her. Or she him. The reality of that had improved his mood. That is, until his grandmother came storming in. He couldn’t help but notice there was no plate of sandwiches in her hand.

“What did Johanna say I said to her?” he asked, feeling his own ire rising. Jo, as sweet as she appeared, was a troublemaker if she’d gone crying to his grandmother about him.

“She didn’t say one word against you. Only that she took the bus to Enniscorthy by herself!”

Ian sighed. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, for Nana took over.

“Never in the history of tourists visiting Ireland has someone been treated so poorly!” his grandmother raged. “The Irish are noted all around the world for our hospitality, but you can’t even manage that!”

It was best to remain silent.

“Mary is worried about Jo, and I don’t want her worrying about anything!” Nana said. “I was so looking forward to seeing my best friend. It’ll probably be the last time we see each other in our lifetimes . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Ian pressed his lips together. Boy, she was shrewd.

His gaze landed on his sitting room. The artificial tree in the front window, sparkling with multicolored lights and laden with ornaments. The candle that smelled like pinecones. The various holiday decorations placed throughout the room. An American girl had come over to Ireland and spent part of her holiday getting his home ready for Christmas. And had he thanked her? No. He hadn’t even offered her so much as a cup of tea. He sighed. His sister was right. It appeared he’d lost his manners along the way.

“I don’t ask for much, Ian,” Nana said softly.

Ian blew out a breath. He supposed it was only for one month. Surely, he could put up with Jo for one month.

“All right, you win,” he muttered.

“You’ve got two choices. Either hire a taxi and take her around, or teach her how to drive your car,” Nana said.

Ian said nothing.

“I’m waiting,” Nana said.

He thought about it for a moment. “I’ll teach her how to drive my car.”

“Good. I’ll send her up by ten tomorrow morning. She’s usually up by nine, but I’ll give you until ten,” Nana said. “And you’d better be polite.”

He grumbled beneath his breath.

“Don’t give me any cheek,” she scolded. “And what’s this I hear you turned Frank away?”

Ian exploded. “Did she tell you that too? Probably couldn’t wait to tell you!”

His grandmother paled. “No, Frank rang me while I was away trying to enjoy myself.”

That was the problem with living next door to family. They were in your business all the time.

“He’s wasting his time coming here,” Ian muttered.

“You’re wasting his time by not letting him do his job,” Nana countered.

His grandmother stood at the door before him. Her face was shrinking, and it startled him. When had she gotten so old looking? He took it for granted that his nan would be around forever. But one bitter lesson that life had taught him was that nothing lasted forever.

“What happened to you is tragic, there is no other way to say it,” Nana started.

Ian couldn’t look at her.

“And I know you’re angry. It’s understandable because you’ve lost a lot,” she said. “But you have to move on with your life. Carve out a new path for yourself.”

“I am moving on,” Ian mumbled. But even as he said it, he knew his statement had a lot of holes in it.

Nana shook her head. “This isn’t moving on. This is hiding. This is giving up. This is not having the guts to face what happened and overcome it.”

“Am I not allowed to grieve?” he asked, his voice rising.

“Of course you’re allowed to grieve for what you’ve lost! But you can’t grieve forever. You’re too young, and you have a lot of life ahead of you yet,” Nana said.

“That’s the unfortunate part. I wish it had been a more serious accident,” he admitted. He stared at his hands in his lap. “One that I wouldn’t have survived.”

The color drained from Nana’s face. “Don’t ever say that. Promise me that you’ll never do anything like that. That you’ll reach out for help if you need it,” she said, her voice breaking.

Ian hated himself for worrying his grandmother. No matter how angry he was, she didn’t deserve that. “No, Nana, I won’t.” To reassure her, he added, “I promise.”

His grandmother recovered her composure and appeared her old, formidable self. “You can get your own supper tonight. There’s too much coddling going on around here. Your hands aren’t broken. Make your own sandwiches.”

His grandmother loved to feed people. It told him the degree of her anger if she was going to force him to make his own supper. But deep down, he knew she was right.

After Nana left, Ian thought about things and resigned himself to his fate with Jo. He blew out a long sigh. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone?

***

“Okay, Johanna, don’t be nervous,” Ian told Jo from his position in the passenger seat. The day was dreary, the sky charcoal gray with a continual mist. It didn’t help with his current mood. He’d been up early in the morning, anxious to get going and get it over with.

“I’m not nervous,” Jo said.

“Then why are you shaking?” he asked, nodding toward her trembling hands on the steering wheel.

“Oh.” Jo folded her hands in her lap.

It had been a little awkward for the two of them when they’d first met up earlier that morning. She looked as if she wanted to spend time with him as much as he did with her, and she most likely knew that his grandmother had strong-armed him into being nice. He decided to ignore it and was relieved when she chose that option as well.

In the confined space of the car, Ian could smell her perfume, something that reminded him of vanilla. Up close, he could see her hazel eyes were greener, with flecks of brown and gold. Her hair appeared much darker. He was certain there must be a boyfriend back home.

It was amazing how he’d lost his confidence along with his career. Before, he would have enjoyed being with Johanna just because she was female. He would have engaged in some harmless flirting. He wondered if she would have been shy around him. But now, unsure of the landscape, he didn’t know how the opposite sex would react to him. And he didn’t want to test it out. Not now and maybe not ever.

“Should I put the key in the ignition?” Jo asked, breaking his train of thought. He snapped out of it and looked at her. She was staring at him but turned away when his eyes met hers.

Ian coughed. “Yes. Now, see the three pedals there. Going left to right, you’ve got your clutch, your brake, and your petrol pedal.”

Jo turned her attention to her feet. “Uh-huh.”

“Here’s the stick, this is how you change gears,” he said, taking hold of the gearshift in the center of the console between the front seats. He shifted up and to the left for first, straight down for second, up for third, down for fourth, and then back up and further right for fifth, explaining as he demonstrated. “You’ll start out in first after you take off the emergency brake.”

Jo didn’t say anything, just kept nodding.

“Now here’s the tricky part,” he said. “As you’re shifting gears, you step down on the clutch with your left foot.”

“Okay,” she said and then repeated in a whisper, “When shifting gears, step down on the clutch.”

“You’re going to be fine,” he said.

She looked up at him with her big hazel eyes, and she appeared doubtful.

“Do you know, Johanna, most people in Ireland drive manual as opposed to automatic,” he said.

“Really? Why?” she asked.

Ian shrugged. “Who knows?” Automatic would certainly be easier, but that’s the way it was.

“Okay, so start the car, put your right foot on the brake, and take the emergency brake off,” he instructed, indicating the brake lever on the mid console behind the stick shift.

Once that was done, she waited for his next instruction.

God, she was pretty. He wanted to touch her hair. It looked so shiny and silky. His eyes landed on her lips, soft and full. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss them. He cleared his throat and frowned. “Now very firmly, step down on the clutch and shift into first gear.”

With an intense frown of concentration, Jo stared down at the stick shift and put her left foot down on the clutch. She tried shifting into first gear, but took her foot off the clutch too soon, causing the car to lurch forward then stall out. Ian winced.

“No worries. That happens to everybody. Don’t take your foot off the clutch until you’ve engaged the gear. Once the gear is engaged, you’ll use your right foot to gently step on the petrol pedal while easing your foot off the clutch.”

She nodded and went for the stick shift. He reached out and placed his hand over hers. Her hand was soft and delicate beneath his.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Turn the car off for a moment.”

She turned the key in the ignition and said, “I told you I couldn’t do it.” She sank back in the seat, defeated, pulling her hand away.

He laughed. “Johanna, cool down. I had you turn off the car because I want you to get used to the stick shift.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, hmm,” he repeated. “Grab hold of that shift. Now just move it around from gear to gear. That’s right, go down to second, and can you feel how it catches and locks into place? That’s right. Start with first, down to second, back up to third, which you’ll note is between first and fifth.”

Jo worked at changing gears over and over. After a while, she nodded. Ian studied her: the curl of hair hanging loose from her ponytail. The little furrow of concentration between her eyebrows as she focused on her task. He was trying to picture her in her own environment. But he couldn’t. His brain kept bringing her back to Ireland. Although Ireland’s scenery was beautiful, Johanna certainly added to it.

She practiced a few times, repeating his instructions in a whisper, her face a portrait of concentration.

“Will we give it a go?” he asked.

Her head snapped up. “Right now?”

“Yeah, sure, no time like the present,” he said.

“I thought I’d practice this for a bit,” she said.

He shook his head. “Just that? And what would be for tomorrow? Turning the key in the ignition?”

“Well, no,” she said. She started up the car and looked in the side and rearview mirrors.

“Okay, right foot on the brake, release the emergency brake, put your left foot down on the clutch, and shift into first.” He added, “Don’t take your foot off the clutch until you’re in first.”

Johanna did what she was told, and everything seemed perfect until she stepped on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward and then came to an abrupt halt again.

“No worries,” Ian said reassuringly. “Just need a smoother transition.”

“Do you think?” Johanna asked.

After several attempts, she finally got going and the car lurched forward, sputtered, and began heading toward town center.

Johanna’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not going to have me drive in traffic, are you?”

“Nope, you’re going to take this first right here. It will take us away from the town.”

She nodded. After a quick search, she put on the indicator. She was still driving in first gear. Once she made the turn, they headed away from the town center.

“All right, we can’t drive in first gear forever, so as soon as you feel the gear tugging, step on the clutch and shift into second.”

Johanna nodded her head quickly, dragging her eyes away from the road to look at the stick shift.

“Don’t forget your clutch,” Ian reminded her.

“Got it.”

Johanna stepped on the clutch and shifted into third. The car sputtered and stalled out.

“Or you could skip second and just go on to third,” Ian noted with amusement.

“Did I skip second?” she asked, restarting the car.

“You did. Shift down for second. I should have reminded you.”

Once the car was started, she shifted into first, and the vehicle moved forward in a smooth motion.

“Good, you’re getting first gear sorted. Only four more to go.”

She gave him a tentative smile.

He cleared his throat and stared straight ahead. He didn’t want to look at her and think again how attractive she was. There was no point in it. The prospect of nothing would only further depress him.

“As you pick up speed, Johanna, shift down into second,” he said.

Jo followed his instruction. It was a rough transition, but the car didn’t stall.

“Okay, good,” he said. “Pick up speed a bit, and you’re going to step on the clutch and shift into third.”

His eyes widened as she veered over to the wrong side of the road. “Whoa, remember, we drive on the opposite side of the road here.”

“Oh jeez, there’s so much to remember.”

He’d keep a close eye on her and the road.

He directed her away from town center, where the traffic was light, and Jo got much better at driving the manual and navigating the narrow roads—there was only one near-miss with a tractor where Jo plowed straight into a hedge on the side of the road.

They’d been driving for three quarters of an hour, and Jo’s confidence was starting to improve when Ian spotted Tintern Abbey.

“What is that?” Jo asked.

“That’s Tintern Abbey, or what’s left of it,” he told her.

“Can we stop?” she asked.

He was just about to say no. He didn’t want to stop; he’d driven by this abbey many times in his life. He never felt compelled to stop.

She looked over at him, a look of excitement on her face. He supposed he couldn’t just give her a driving lesson and call it a day.

“Sure,” he found himself saying.

He directed her to where to park the car. Once she turned the car off, she opened the door and jumped out. She grabbed her backpack from behind the seat. From the back seat, she asked him, “Aren’t you coming?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ll wait here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Take your time, Johanna, no rush,” he advised.

“I will, thanks,” she said, and she closed the door.

When she hadn’t returned half an hour later, Ian began to get irritated. How long did it take to look at a pile of rocks? He gave her ten more minutes and then, muttering under his breath, he limped out of the car and grabbed his crutches.

He found Jo sitting on a low stone wall outside the abbey ruins. Her head was bent over her sketch pad in her lap. She was so focused on her task she never heard him approach her.

“Johanna?”

The pad flew out of Jo’s lap, and her arms flailed as she screamed in fright. Ian had to suppress a grin.

“It’s just me,” he finally said.

“Sorry,” she said. She picked up her sketch pad from where it had fallen. She looked up to the ruins, down to her pad, and then over to him. “I won’t be much longer. I can take some pictures and finish it later.”

“No, take your time,” Ian told her. Although he was ready to go home, he didn’t want to rush her. Using his crutches, he stepped closer to her. “Can I see?”

She bit her lip, but she turned the pad around so he could see it.

Ian blinked in surprise. It wasn’t just a sketch by a hobbyist. It was so realistic. “Wow, that’s amazing! Hey, go ahead and finish what you’re doing. Don’t let me interrupt.”

A flush crept up from her neck to her cheeks. She nodded and went back to work with the pencils laid out beside her.

Ian walked around, taking his time on the crutches. He took a good look at the ruins and had to admit that it was pretty impressive that the site was almost nine hundred years old. He supposed there was something to be said for that.

Eventually, he made his way back to Jo and took a seat on the low stone wall. He realized he was in her way and went to move.

“No need to move,” she said, not lifting her head. “I’m almost finished.”

A few moments later, she folded her sketchbook closed and stuffed it into her backpack along with her tray of pencils.

“How long have you been drawing?” he asked, curious.

She shrugged. “For as long as I can remember. But when I was in high school, my art teacher really encouraged me.”

“Is that what you do? Professionally, I mean?”

“Oh no, this is just a hobby.”

By the looks of it, her talent had gone beyond hobby. “Do you go to college, or do you work?”

She looked away. “I used to work in the mall, but I’m starting a new job at a coffee shop when I get back. The plan is to go to college once I figure out what I want to do with my life.”

Ian didn’t think it was any of his business to point out the obvious: that with that kind of talent, she should pursue an art degree.

She stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “Ready?”

By the time they arrived back at the house, it was late afternoon. Ian had to admit that it was good to get out of the house, even if it was only for a drive and a stop to see some ruins. For the last few hours, he’d been concentrating so hard on teaching Jo how to drive that he hadn’t given a thought to anything else, and it was a relief.

Ian told Jo to park the car on the road in front of the house, and they got out.

“Well, thank you,” Jo said. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“You’re doing great,” he said. Her cheeks went a tinge of pink, and Ian studied her for a moment. Before thinking about it, he blurted out, “Would you like to go to a pub later with me? I mean, I know it isn’t much—”

“I’d love to,” Jo said, smiling.

“Great, let’s say eight o’clock?”

“All right, I’ll see you then,” she said.