“Lexi, this is too much.”
“No way. It’s perfect. And a long time coming.”* * *“Holy shit,” Mom mutters, surprising a giggle from me. We’re standing in front of our first-class pods on the plane, and watching my Mom’s reaction to everything new is the best part of this trip.
Our pods are side by side. After I stow my carry-on above my head and take my shoes off to get comfortable, I notice Mom taking photos of everything.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to send pictures to your Aunt Darla,” she says. “Look at this menu!”
I grin as she opens the menu and takes a picture. “I had no idea that we’d be offered a meal like this,” I admit. “The website said meal offered, but this is super fancy.”
“And I have a toiletry bag full of goodies,” she says. “Socks, an eye mask to sleep, and a toothbrush.”
The flight attendant stops by to take our order for dinner, and for tomorrow’s breakfast as this is an overnight flight.
Mom asks if she can take a photo of the flight attendant for my Aunt Darla.
Ten years ago, I would have been mortified.
Today, I’m just overjoyed that she’s having such a good time.
The attendant is gracious and poses for a photo, holding up the fancy menu, and then Mom takes the fluffy blanket the airline provides out of the plastic it’s wrapped in.
“A down blanket and pillow,” she says. “Boy, there’s sure a huge difference between first class and coach these days.”
“Oh, this isn’t normal,” I say with a laugh. “Our flight from Minneapolis to Orlando was normal domestic first class. This is international. We’re going to be in the air for a long time.”
I swallow hard, not wanting to think about it.
“Well, I’ll be as comfortable as can be,” Mom says with a smile. “Thank you, honey.”
“You’re welcome.”
This right here is why I work so hard. So I can share these things with my mom and enjoy myself. For too long, I lived the life of all work and no play.
Not anymore.
Now, I’m going to enjoy the benefits of a job well done. An annual vacation with Mom is the least I can do.
We’re just about to take off, so I reach for the magazine I brought with me to try to keep my mind occupied.
I flip through the pages and stall when I see the headline Deadly Secret is in production!
I’ve done an excellent job of keeping busy, of not thinking about Shawn and the way we ended things.
The way I ended things.
But with the reminder of the film, thanks to this article, I miss him all over again. I’ve been dreaming about him almost every night, and he interrupts my thoughts when I’m supposed to be working.
Even yesterday, when I was in the middle of running a marathon, I found myself wishing that Shawn was at the finish line to greet me when I crossed it.
I wish things were different.
But they aren’t.
He made it clear that nothing serious could happen between us. And I respect his wishes. I just wish I could turn the emotions off. Because getting over Shawn O’Callaghan has been much harder than anticipated.* * *“Lexi, you have to come see this,” Mom says as she pokes her head around my doorway at the O’Callaghan Inn. We just arrived and were shown to our rooms, which are only a few doors down from each other. She waves for me to follow, and I hurry behind her.
“Is your room okay?” I ask, concerned that something’s wrong.
“Is it okay?” she says with a laugh and spreads her arms wide as we walk inside. “Look at this view!”
I relax and grin at her. “Didn’t you see the same view from my room?”
“I didn’t pay attention,” she admits. “I was too excited about my view. This inn is just so lovely. And did you hear them say it’s been here for nearly two hundred and fifty years?”
“I did. I hope that doesn’t mean it’s haunted.”
“You and your imagination,” she says with a laugh. “I love how they’ve decorated for the holidays with all of the lights and the tree in the lobby. The clawfoot tub in the bathroom is to die for. I’ll be taking advantage of that later.”
“We should get a nap in before dinner,” I suggest.
We arrived at the Galway airport late this morning. Once we made our way through customs, gathered our luggage, and rented a car, a couple of hours had passed.
We’re both jet lagged and travel weary.
“You’re right,” Mom says. “I might go ahead and enjoy the tub now.”
“Good idea. Have a nice soak and a nap, and you’ll be fresh for dinner.”
Mom folds me into her arms for a strong hug. She’s been hugging me a lot on this trip.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” I say with a laugh. “I’m having fun, too.”