Chapter 25

Jo’s cheeks were on fire as she made her way back to Bridie’s. Through the front window, she could see her family and Bridie sitting around, talking. The Christmas tree sparkled brightly. When she arrived back at Bridie’s front door, she realized she wasn’t up for a crowd, even if they were family. Even if it was Christmas Eve.

She pulled her winter coat tighter around her and headed further down the footpath until it joined the main one that led through town center. She needed to walk and clear her head and most of all, she needed to be alone.

What had she done? And more importantly, how could she make Ian understand? That it had never been a job for her. That her feelings for him were genuine.

She headed toward the main section of town. It was quiet. Everything was closed and there was no traffic. Everyone was home, celebrating the holiday with their families.

As she walked, she was oblivious to all the decorations and houses with lit Christmas trees in their windows or front halls, or exterior lights strung up all over the place.

In her life, she’d never seen anyone so angry with her as Ian had been. She had known this was a bad idea, and now everything was ruined. But what was worse was he totally questioned her reason for being with him. She liked how she felt in his presence. She wanted to be near him. To hear the sound of his voice or smell his aftershave. Or to sometimes catch the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. She wiped away the tears.

After a brisk walk, she decided that she would leave it for now. It was probably best to leave him alone and let him cool down. They weren’t leaving yet; there was still time to talk about this and clear things up. Surely, he would see sense. Wouldn’t he?

***

As Jo climbed into bed, Gram sat across from her, rubbing lotion onto her hands. Gram looked tired and Jo suspected the last few weeks were starting to catch up with her. It didn’t seem to slow her down though.

“Are you all right, Jo?” Gram said, keeping her eyes on her granddaughter.

Jo shrugged and sat on the side of her bed, kicking her slippers off. “I feel awful about what happened. He’s so angry.”

“I suppose Ian Twomey has a lot of anger in him right now due to his situation,” Gram said. “Him finding out about you being paid—well, that has tapped a nerve. I bet if it had happened before the accident, he wouldn’t have been so angry.”

Jo didn’t want to point out that if it were before the accident, Ian wouldn’t have needed a companion and most likely wouldn’t have wanted for female companionship, especially of the leggy blonde variety.

She waited for Gram to get into bed before she turned off the light.

Gram yawned and within minutes, was snoring lightly.

Jo lay awake for a long time in the dark, tears stinging the back of her eyes. The trip had been wonderful. Until it wasn’t.

She didn’t know how to fix things between her and Ian. She hoped she could before she left on the seventh of January. There was plenty of times to make things right.

***

On New Year’s Eve, it was pouring. Rain slammed against the roof. This time of year, the sun set early. By five, it was as black as pitch outside. And dawn didn’t arrive until almost eight thirty in the morning.

Jo had not seen Ian since Christmas Eve. Her plan to let him cool down and then talk to him flew out the window when Ian surprised everyone by purchasing a last-minute ticket to Spain to spend Christmas with his parents. He’d called Bridie from the airport, informing her that he’d bought a one-way ticket and wasn’t sure when he’d be home.

Luckily, Jo had been too busy to dwell on it and fall into a pit of despair. Christmas Day had passed in a blur. The day after Christmas, she went with her parents and brother to spend a few days over in Galway. They spent a few nights there, and their days were busy with bus tours. They’d just arrived back in time for New Year’s. Then tomorrow, they were off to Dublin for three days before her parents and her brother flew back to the US. She followed her parents and brother all over Ireland. But her sketch pad remained undisturbed in her backpack. She had no interest in that. The only plus side was getting to spend some time with her brother. Back home, he was so busy with med school it seemed they never had time to just sit around and talk. So, she was grateful for that. It proved to be a wonderful distraction from her sadness.

As soon as she landed at Bridie’s, she asked her, “Have you heard from Ian?”

Bridie shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jo, for everything.”

Jo nodded. “Maybe he just needs some time, and the sunshine certainly would help.” She tried to be optimistic, feigning a lightness she certainly didn’t feel.

“That’s it,” Bridie said, but she looked unconvinced.

Well before midnight, Jo said good night to everyone.

“You’re going to bed? But it’s New Year’s Eve! Don’t you want to ring in the new year?” her father asked.

“I’ve got a headache, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I hope you’re not coming down with anything,” her mother said, a frown etching her forehead.

“No, it’s just a tension headache. We’ve been so busy these last few days,” Jo said with a forced laugh.

“And we’ve been having a great time,” her father added.

“We have, Dad,” Jo said.

In her room, she pulled out her sketch pad and neatly tore a piece of paper off the seam. She’d write a letter to Ian and slip it under his door before she left.

***

“In the past, this day, January sixth, was known as the Women’s Christmas. It was a day reserved just for women,” Bridie told Johanna as they drove to the hotel for a meal. “On that day, the women were free from their chores and the men waited on them.”

Gram snorted in the front seat next to Bridie. “Although as the years went on, it became simpler to go out for a meal. My own father—may the Lord have mercy on him—he could deliver a calf with his eyes closed, but cook a meal?” Gram laughed. “Never. My mother usually went to her sister’s house for the day.”.

“Bridie, what did you used to do for Women’s Christmas?” Jo asked.

“My Jim tried to cook a dinner the first year we were married. At the time, I thought it was quite progressive of him,” Bridie said. She erupted in giggles. “But it was disastrous. His roast was as tough as shoe leather, and his apple tart . . . My goodness, I couldn’t tell you what went wrong there. I’ve never seen a tart so soupy.”

“But it was nice that he tried,” Jo said.

“It was marvelous! Because of that, it was probably my favorite Women’s Christmas. He tried so hard!”

The hotel was packed. Jo noticed it was all women. The dining room in the hotel was all done up in gold-and-white Christmas decorations. The walls were painted a pale aqua with white trim. All the tables were covered in white linen tablecloths with red and white flower arrangements adorning the tops. She joined Bridie and Gram at a table near the window. The day was bright, which helped to lift her mood.

The meal consisted of three courses, and Jo chose a black pudding starter, roasted lamb for dinner, and a flan with fresh berries for dessert.

Jo couldn’t help but wonder what Ian was doing in Spain. She wondered if they celebrated Women’s Christmas over there. Sorrow filled her at the thought that they were leaving the next day and she hadn’t had a chance to see him one more time, to clear things up. It felt unfinished. And just plain awful.

Her head snapped up. “I’m sorry, Bridie, did you say something?”

“I asked how your flan is?”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Jo said.

Gram and Bridie talked about the wonderful time they had. Jo was happy for her grandmother. It truly had been the trip of a lifetime for her, and it was good that she got to see Bridie again.

“You know, Bridie, I just had a thought,” Gram said. “I think you should come over to me next year for Christmas.”

“You know, Mary, I just might!” Bridie said.