Part ThreePreviously, on Soap Opera SundayPart One: I'd just arrived in Galway, Ireland after 24 hours of travel and met a group of cute Irish boys in a pub.
Part Two: They take me on a whirlwind tour of all the hottest pubs in Galway, complete with a beer at every stop...
When we reached Donaugh's I crouched near the wall. The lighting was terrible, but a rummaged through my bag anyway, pulling out shirts and pants and stuffing the underwear way down into the bottom; no need to show more than I had to. With every article I removed, my stomach sunk farther. I knew it was gone, but wasn't ready to admit it.
Why hadn't I written it in a notebook or on a full size piece of paper? Why was I such an idiot?
I repeated these questions to Liam, who was deeply sympathetic. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of ya."
I felt a little better. But this time when he offered me another beer, I turned him down. I looked through my bag a few more times while Liam and his friends chatted and drank. I knew I wouldn't find anything, but I still had to look. I considered what my parents would do if I didn't check in, but was too tipsy to give the matter much rational thought.
After a little while Liam and his friends were ready to go.
"Come on, then," he said, "you can stay with us tonight. Don't worry, there's plenty of space."
So I did. None of the bad things that could have happened even occurred to me. Liam and his friends had been so nice, so friendly at a time when that was what I was the most open to, the most ready to find.
Their house was a total boy pad, socks seemed to be everywhere, but I was past caring. Liam offered to sleep on the floor and let me have his bed, but that didn't seem fair, and besides, after flirting with him all night, I kind of wanted something to happen.
We spent the night cuddling and smooching and eventually fell asleep with our arms around each other, too tired and drunk to go any farther, which I wouldn't have done anyway... probably.
The next morning I tore through my bag again, this time taking out every. single. item. But there was nothing. I thought about calling my mother, back in the States, but it was still to early to call.
Liam offered to show me around the city by the light of day, which was just as amazing as seeing the city at night. The rain had cleared, but the sky was still heavy and gray. The ocean was choppy and the win bit through my sweater. We walked along the coast, past the harbor and onto the beach, holding hands, not talking much, tasting the salt from the sea.
When we went back into town Liam took me to a coffee and tea shop where we bought tea and scones. We never exchanged phone numbers, or addresses. I think we knew that the time we had spent together was meant to remain in a bubble, a story that was complete in and of itself, that needed no epilogue.
After the tea, when it was time for him to leave, Liam kissed me and was gone, as if he had returned to the city, and once again I was alone. In a strange city, with no place to go, and no phone number to call.
Next Week: The final chapter of my Irish adventure. Will I ever find my father? Will he ever find me?
...to be continued.
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