Stamp Cowboy

Sitting on the edge of Vishals bed I grab a shirt from the clothes piled in the center of his bed. His washer and dryer are far superior to mine. Existing with functions I've never seen before. I say they are the Mclaren of washer and dryers. He offered to do my laundry to prepare for our trip.

"I read charlie Chaplin was a stamp collector"

"He was, you read right. So was Franklin Roosevelt, Queen Elizabeth, John Lennon, Freddie Mercury, Ronnie Wood, Warren Buffet, etc, etc. I would love to see or have all of these collections. Now maybe even an Ava Bardot (pronounced Bardaux)?"

"Sorry to disappoint, that last bit of information is false. Ava Bardot is just dating a stamp collector."

"Well the guy she's dating, the stamp collector, must be very smart and attractive. He probably has enough for the both of them"

"So he's generous too. Well he is with Ava Bardot, so he is smart."

"Do you like Charlie Chaplin?", he asks inquisitively.

"I like entertainment."

"Stamp collections are extremely personal. Some people keep their collections private because they are valuable. Most people, I think, keep their collections private because they are too personal. Collections of any kind are like looking in a persons eyes or a family tree. They are windows to aspects of a person. What they care about. Where an interest lies.

"I have seen yours. Your full collection."

"I know because I wanted you to. We are going to have a great trip."

"We just have to fly there. Thank you for getting my ticket. I dont love flying though, but love the thought of traveling with you. Our trip is not completely centered around stamps is it?"

"Just certain day trips. Don't worry I'm not that selfish."

Then looking at her shaking his head, "Not that selfish with trips and activities, but I can't wait for us to have eachother all to ourselves. Now stop distracting me. I need to pack. You need to pack. We need to make sure we have are essentials." He leaves the room and returns with the last load of laundry. Sitting in silence we both pull items from the pile and fold in synchronized actions until all the clothes are neatly folded. He put on the movie 'He said, She said'. The silence isn't awkward, but comforts exist in the silence. Friendly shared glaces and laughs related to the inane aspects of relationships.

Vanilla wafts through the air. He has the plugins I bought him in and the candle I got him lit. The aroma seduces the senses. Giving me an intense craving for a sugar cookie.

Vishals' place is pretty common and surprisingly impersonal except for his office. His office houses his public and private collections.  Everything in there represents him, the true him.

"Is our hotel already reserved?"

"Hotels and yes."

"Hotels?"

I was the type to go on vacation and get a room at one hotel for the duration of my entire trip until I moved to the next location.

"We are still relatively young. Don't tell me you are outdated? I want you to experience different environments and not be confined to one feeling. It would minimize our experience. I booked 3 hotels. Enough time to learn about them and get comfortable with a general experience, but short enough we don't get too comfortable and miss out on experiencing the various feels the city has to offer us. You trust me?"

This is exciting. She loved how his brain worked. They each had agreed to bring only 1 bag and a half empty back pack for purchases so they would have no trouble moving to a new place. Although as she packed she became keenly aware that she may look like she was dressing for a funeral or as if she was playing a part of the witch of Dublin. Everything was black or some variation.

I throw in some scarves as easy pops of color to my outfits. Its just black is easy. It photographs well, fits multiple situations, can be dresssed up or down, makes all body types look good, is warming, etc. I imagine the three types of places we will be staying.

"I think I trust you, I got a passport and am leaving the country with you. Flying for god sake and I'm not Irish!"

"You are so brave", he says half mockingly and half sincerely. In a way only he could pull off.

"Yes I trust you. I'm bewitched by the whole adventure. I've been romanticizing it in my mind since you shared it with me. However, can I have the itinerary? I do better with knowing plans or sequences of events in advance. I have my passport, I.D, covid shot proof, credit cards and travelers checks etc in this travel pack. Do you want me to hold yours as well? It would be safe. See I wear it under my coat in the front. It zips and locks."

"okay, yeah thank you. I guess I can give you the itinerary. Just try not to judge the locations. You will fit in at all of them and all of them will be 'craic'."

"Craic?"

"fun, Ava. It means fun"

"Craic", I say probably butchering the pronunciation. Causing me to smirk. "I will fit in like a sore thumb."

"We will fit in like Americans"

Now we are both laughing at the derogatory undertones he said it with. He knudged the clothes out of his way accidentally knocking them to the floor.

"Hey I just finished folding those", I was saying as he moved across the bed to kiss me. Then he started scratching my back and massaging it.

"Aaah", I release as I exhale and surrender to his touch.

"No one loves scratches and massages like you. I think that is your favorite thing."

"hmmmm, this might need investigating. Skip the trip? and spend the week in your bed?, you scratching me and massaging me?"

"You are not getting out of our trip. I can do that on our trip at our hotels"

"Okay, but I'm holding that to you as a promise"

"Okay"

Vishall grabbed a paper from the nightstand. Then he grabbed the back of my thighs and butt area and moved me until I was on top of him straddled accross his mid section. Then he put the paper over his face.
I move closer to read the page. Its our itinerary. I move the paper, kiss him, move myself until my crotch aligns with his and rock once, then swing myself off and jump off the bed.

"Thanks", I say as I go to grab some water and go to research our plans.

"So cold, so cold, just going to leave me here after that", I hear vishal as I walk out of the room.

I giggle slightly. He looked, smelled and felt good, but we would have time for that later. I was here to prepare for our trip. I couldn't wait to see what he planned. The wonder spilled out onto my laptop through thousands of searches. I was possibly more obsessed with how his brain worked than physically having him, which was new for me.

Airport & Day 1

I slam a twenty down on the counter of the airport cafe. Two coffees please. One with some bailys and a shot of whiskey please.

"We don't do that here, but there is a bar across the way", the barista explains.

"Oh right, just kidding, just the two coffee's please." After receiving the coffee's I stop at the bar across the way, I'm not too proud.

"One shot half Bailys and half whiskey please"

I take it and dump it in my coffee and stir. I bring it to my lips and drink. The warm liquid enters my mouth coating the inside. Sweet, savory and . I could feel it pumping through me taking the edge off. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to feel the warmth and relax.

"Perfect"

"Here"

"I'll take the other one"

"No this one was for you"

"Aren't they the same?"

"um of course, just I drank out of the other so this one is a full coffee", I lie with no idea why I'm lying.

"Oh sensible"

He leans in and whispers in my ear, "Your secret is safe with me my boozy passenger".
I give him a friendly cheers.

The flight took around 10hrs 10min. The airports were chaotic. Masks, proof of covid, baggage checking, finding the gate and then flying, repeat in reverse. The process is exhausting. Vishal ushered me around like a lost child and I was completely grateful. I could follow brainlessly. It felt unreal as I watched everything happening around me. If he wasn't there I was sure the airport and city of Dublin would consumed me.

Our first hotel, Maldrone Hotel Parnell square, is a comfortable leisure environment in central Dublin. It's 15 minutes from the airport.

"Over here Ava", Vishal has a car waiting for us. He and the driver are loading our luggage into the back of the car. We get in and buckle up. We share a here we go glance. The black leather of the car seat is smooth and hot where the sun is shining on it. I take the spot behind the driver. Vishal takes the passenger seat, but appreciates that he can look back at me through our diagonal connection. As we leave the parking lot and enter the city I'm overwhelmed with fascination for my new home for the next week and a half. You can feel the history smashed together with the modernity existing as one in the city. Touristy in our area, but a welcomed feel to a new tourist like myself. We would have time to explore the more native regions later on. Vishal handles checkin at the front desk. We have a king Delux room.

As we enter the room I'm impressed by the cleanliness and aesthetic of the decor. Pops of color smartly placed in each room. I throw myself on the bed.
"Yes, this will do."

"So you approve?"

"Of course"

Lets get dressed so we can go walk around and give the city a chance to introduce herself or himself.

"Herself, I hope she doesn't seduce you away"

"She might from what I've seen so far"

"I know, I was thinking the same thing."
The air smelled of foods and freshness mixed with the usual city pollution and exhaust smells. Our room is quiet and sexy. We brought a couple things to personalize the room. Vishal brought a vanilla plug in and the vanilla candle. The vanilla transports us some where nostalgic and positive. I brought sheets. Soft, extremely high thread count Egyptian cotton. More than I could afford, but I wanted our time in bed to be memorable in the best way possible.

I hear Vishal turn the shower on. As he showers I trail my hand along the bed, table and chair in the room while I make my way to the window. I look out onto the city. Our view is mostly a street with buildings much the same as the one we are in. The city holds a sort of whitty sophistication mixed with casual amusement. Young and old walk the street below intermingling. I'm not ready for food or drinks, nor do I feel like shopping. A sudden wave of being overwhelmed by the present expectations and new location is washing me out.

"Do you want to go on a walk? Explore the city? Maybe check out Liffey bridges, the ha'penny bridge or O'Connell bridge?"

"Sure, get some Dublin fresh air and see how it compares", he adds.

We get ready while listening to a playlist he put together. It contains a few drop kick murphy songs, which seems cliche, but it does set the scene and get us hyped. The playlist is schizophrenic. There are slow sentimental songs mixed with rock and other oldies and folk songs. It makes me smile. Its so unpretentiously perfect. Just a compilation a la Vishal.

Vishal grabs the room keys. Hands me one and pockets the other.

"Shall we?", he asks.

"Lets do it"

We exit our room into the hall.

"Wait, wait, lets do something truely touristy. I want a shot of us walking down the hall looking boss and retro like a scene from a movie. I will put music to it later. You have a scarf on and you have sunglasses. I want to make a movie to document our entire trip."

"How kitschy of us", but I play the part for the clip. The only thing missing was a vintage cigarette holder, but I'm not a smoker so we wouldn't be documenting reality then. Although currently I feel more like an actress than myself. I'm still out of my element.

"Vishal, Vishal, Hey buddy, Vishal"
When we get to the lobby we hear a man calling his name. We look around trying to locate where the voice is originating from.

A medium height man with dark healthy looking hair was coming towards us. He was in dark jeans and a t-shirt with a graphic design made of shapes adorning the front. He had on puma classic sneakers. A playboy smile plastered on his face. I didn't know him, but I had a strange feeling I didn't really want to.

"Hey! How are you? Who is this?, he asks. The last part annoyed me. I could hear him, I was right here with the two of them.

"This is Ava", I interject.
"This guy", pointing at Vishal. "This guy I haven't seen for a year. We worked together. I am a stamp collector. Vishal helped me get a stamp for my collection. I am still forever grateful. So Ava, I know you are in good company."

I don't know why this annoyed me, but it felt like he was intruding. A toady conversationalist.

"Why are you here Chuck?"

"Business and leisure. Actually I'm trying to make a deal for a stamp. Actually you may be able to help me. The seller is selling me some stamps, but I have to purchase three. You could go in on the deal with me, then I don't have to pay the full amount and we all walk away happy."

"Maybe, but I'd need to know what stamp. I'm not really here to do any buying of stamps or business related to that endeavor."

"Lets have dinner tonight to discuss it."

"How about tomorrow? Its our first night here. Can we make it drinks instead of dinner?"

Vishal is trying to appease all parties involved I can tell. What a social negotiator.

Chuck looks at me like I'm intruding. We are sharing pleasantries, but we are both fighting for attention and the affections of Vishal.

"Drinks it is. Tomorrow meet in the same spot at 8?"

"Lobby at 8pm tomorrow it is. See you then old friend"

Vishal takes my hand into his and we procede towards the doors. We don't speak until we are outside.

"I will be surprised if it's a deal I really want to make. Drinks can't hurt. Might be fun and maybe he knows more places around here. He has traveled here before."

"Okay", I don't want to argue on our first day and first trip out of the room. I don't want to spoil our memory of the trips start.

"Tomorrow is our library day and now you will see how stamp collecting is done in todays age. I filled out the paperwork and got us clearance for an appointment at the Royal Irish Academy. There we will view John Bourkes' revenue stamp book then we will head to Trinity College to see the book of Kells and the long room. I got us a walking tour there."

We are strolling hand in hand, bathing in all we can take in. We stop at the An. Post, General post office in the middle of O'Connell St. The foundation stone was set in 1814. An emblem of strength from 1916 as defiance against the British. We are both in awe of the history before our eyes and beneath our feet. The architectures beauty is not wasted on us. I pose by a pillar, arm behind one as I lean nonchalantly on the pillar with my inside foot crossing my other. Vishal snaps the candid shot. We briefly peek inside before we continue to the Ha'penny Bridge. Seeing how post offices are related to mail and stamps I think we will linger here for awhile, but Vishal seems uninterested in staying here for long. The Ha'Penny bridge is quaint, but adorable. The River Liffey flows beneath the bridge. As I stare down ripples give movement to the mirrored surface.

"Have a penny?", Vishal adks while patting his pockets looking for one.
"Yeah here, why?"

"For this". He closes his eyes, kisses the penny, and throws it in the river below.

"You just littered, stop."

"Sorry, but I wish on every bridge I go to. This one is called the Ha'Penny. What could be more fitting?"

"That's not a thing here though. It's not a wishing well. They use to have locks until they were cut off to save the bridges integrity."

"Well it's a thing, my thing, I made a good wish on that penny. If you dive in I'm not sure you'd find it. So I guess I kinda littered. Sorry, but you'd approve of the wish."

"Lets see, are you going to tell me what it was?"

"Of course not, then it won't come true and I littered for no reason."

unable to argue I can simply smile and reach up to kiss him on his forehead. Then he pulls me in for a real kiss and the moment feels perfect.

On the way to Grafton Street we stop at a statue of Molly Malone. A college age boy is defiling the statue, making his friends laugh. Supposedly she may have been a prostitute, but she also sold shell fish.

"You're being rather disrespectful", we here another tourist say to the guy.

The guy protests and then starts recreating the scene from wild west with Will Smith and drums on the statues exposed breasts. "Nice dress darling. Good to see ya."

Vishal and I can't help it, we bust out laughing. Seeing how we are not helping the situation, we continue on to Grafton Street. Although, I'm not really in the mood for shopping. Grafton is the shopping mecca so I read.

Shop after shop with endless amount of items for sale. We mostly window shop. I spot a few items I will probably come back for later in the trip. Some as gifts and a dress for myself. I make sure we go to Brown Thomas, Kilkenny, and the Dublin Vintage Factory among other stores. The DVF isn't Vishals style of shop or items, but I enjoy it's cooky nature and random treasures. We stop into a Butlers Chocolate Cafe mid shopping. Vishal purchases a Medium Gift Wrapped Ballotin, saying it's for our room when we get back. We end up devouring all but two candies while we peruse and window shop. A street musician bares his soul through song and guitar string strums. I give him 10 euro for his efforts. I respect and applaud him, a man in a stripped down environment with a microphone doing his craft. It can't be easy. Its a sort of folk alternative that feels appropriate for the time of day and activity.

We encounter a statue of Philip Lynott that captures his calm coolness. I lift the collar to my shirt and take a selfie with his depiction. Forever held in the ranks of famous musicians and credited with bringing Ireland into the worlds music radar. I didn't have a pick to leave so I left a penny in his guitar strings. Gave him a kiss on the cheek and prayed one of these superstitions brings him or I good luck.

After I'm sure we've seen most every shop, some more than once, we are ready for our next destinations. We are going to O'Connell Bridge and O'Connell Monument. Completing our walking loop of day one sites. It's all we could handle. Exhaustion from the flight is catching up to us as the excitement settles in. We have plenty of time to be tourists all over Dublin and Ireland. We have a one day excursion planned already, that I know of. Vishal is full of surprises so I can't be certain there isn't another.

Our pace is a slow saunter that neither of us minds. It feels therapeutic to not have to rush somewhere. We are simply walking to enjoy everything our senses can absorb. We walk in silence. We are doing this hand in hand, side by side, almost in unison.

Arriving at O'Connell Monument and Bridge I'm pleased the two appear as all descriptions I had previously read prepared me for. O'Connell Street is a street of many names. Names lost to history. The statue was completed by John Brock in 1883 after John Foley designed it. O'Connell Bridge is the single traffic bridge in europe wider than it is long. It's a bit of an optical illusion, almost appearing perfectly square. We don't dwell long at these last two sites partly due to the cautions I previously read about the area and partly from seeing some merit to the cautions I read about previously. It was plenty of time to appreciate what we were privy to.

By the time we get back to the hotel my feet hurt. My legs are worn out and we can't fathom leaving our room for dinner or drinks. I put a Philip Lynott playlist on.
"Perfect choice, I was about to put on the same thing", Vishal says while turning his phone to reveal the playlist he had qued up to begin playing. "You beat me to it".

"Great minds", I say pointing from my head to his.

We decide a night in will serve us best. Plus it's a vacation why shouldn't we spoil ourselves. Vishal heads up ordering for us while I shower and pick a movie. Vishal bought some wine and gin on our outing and I can hear him pouring drinks. I step into the shower. Although I brought my own shampoos I try the hotels variety. They smell clean as only hotel soaps do. I feel slightly sticky from the bar soap, but am unbothered by it. As I pat and wipe myself dry,  lotion my body, and slip into my robe I brought from home. I feel sexy again. I washed the city day from me and am prepared for my night in with quite possibly the love of my life. Before exiting the bathroom I blow dry my hair and remoisterize my face adding a little tinted lip balm to my lips and cheeks, giving me a dewy look. Lastly I sprits with a body spray that smells like gardenia.

Vishal tries not to stare, but I can tell he approves.

"Are you ready for our night in. Are you really hungry or a little?

"Very hungry."

"Good because I ordered a smorgasbord of food to share."

I felt royal as the hotel attendant delivered our order. I sat in the bed while everything was deposited around me or near me on tables wheeled in for our convenience. Vishal tipped the attendees once delivery was finished. For a moment after their departure we both took a moment to appreciate the feast presented to us.

"How much is all this?"

"Don't worry about it. I covered it. When in Rome or traveling right?"

"Right". No point in worrying now, now was for tasting and delving into a culinary treat. I looked at our options. Vishal starts the movie even though music still plays softly in the background. I see a soup and decide to start there. I take a spoonful. It is rich and layered a delicate liquid velvet. A mushroom soup. There is a marinated goat cheese salad, pasta, fish and chips, roasted hake fillet, and the trio of deserts. I notice Vishal only consumes a cheese burger.

"Aren't you going to try any of this? Please try the soup". I bring a spoonful to his mouth. He willingly consumes it.

"That is great soup"

Once he finishes his cheeseburger he reclines in the bed, gin drink in hand. A perfect image of a man completely gratified. We feed eachother bites of dessert like a truely annoyingly in love couple. Luckily, no one is present to witness our disgustingly romantic displays of affection. For the first time I can acknowledge that kairosclerosis is a real thing. As shared bites turn to kisses until the meal is pushed to the side and we relish eachother. The sheets a bonus accent to our fervent affections.

Day 2

We woke in time for brunch. A later start than expected, but we forgave ourselves due to the nights affections and probable jet lag. Still it forced us to put effort into our preparations for the day.

"You have the room key? Money? Give me the sunscreen. Don't forget your hat. Remember your I.D.?", I am mothering him.

"Are you going to wear those shoes? We have a walking tour at Trinity College. We need to hurry if we are going to get brunch before the Royal Irish Academy."

"You have both our I.Ds right, from yesterday?"

We are chaotic, but some how organized. We manage to exit the hotel room washed, dressed and prepared in 35 min.

"Damn we are good", he says as he pulls me in to a restaurant near our hotel for brunch. We both eat a small meal. I break the yoke of my poached egg over the toast. While the yellow sauce pours over the contents of my plate I sip a coffee and a small orange juice. There is something beautiful in the simplicity of a well cooked egg breakfast. Then again maybe I'm more open to seeing the beauty and appreciating the small things at this moment. It is nothing noteworthy in comparison to our dinner, but satiating more than just nutritionally. I cover breakfast, a small gesture that feels like paying for a small piece of art.

"Are you ready my lady?"

"I am."

The Royal Irish Academy exudes exclusive studious energy. A members only facility open to any patron studious and well planned enough to file the appropriate papers and fee. Vishal went a step further by notifying them of what he desired viewing and scheduled a private viewing. I walk in prominently with an air of confidence if being more influential than I am. I don't care because some how I know how I feel is true for Vishal. I'll exude it for him.

John Bourkes book is humbling. Humbling the way unassuming relects from the past gain an importance that couldn't have been imagined during the time of the items existence. The way history lends importance to mundane objects and people. In the case of John Bourke the importance of foresight for entire hobby. Vishal studies it wide eyed as if it holds recipes of magic. I allow him his sentimentality without interruption.

We admire the library and it's architecture before leaving for Trinity College.

Transit in Dublin is efficient and easy. Although we got a car here, we decided on the bus system  today.

Standing infront of Trinity College I tried to picture Oscar Wilde standing right where I am. Of course I wouldn't have seen him except from a far since women weren't allowed here until 1969. Then I try to imagine what it would have felt like to be Alison Adler. The architecture is intimidating in a way, let alone being the first women proving deserving of an education. I'm in awe of it. We meet our tour guide and she begins rather quickly.

"Trinity College was established under the Tudor Monarchy...."

"Originally protestant based with catholics being kept out."

"......Saint Patricks well...."

I go over to the fence and stare down. It doesn't look like much. An unassuming display disregarded by most who pass it. The guide is telling a story about how all the students drink so much they drank all the water from the well trying to hydrate themselves. It gets a laugh and looks at one another with smirks and eye rolls.

The long room is as impressive if not more than all the photo's I've seen. A library or a cathedral to the past. One could marry time here. A spectacular display. Although he has gloves for warmth on he still runs his hands over a few books as if compelled to touch them. As if it some how will connect him with the history contained in these books. The Book of Kells is housed here as well.

By the end of the tour we have walked most of the campus. I'm about 75% more informed about the college with interesting antidotes to accompany the facts than I was at the start of it. We linger at the end of the walking tour to chat with a few other tourist on the tour and take a couple photos and video clips.

Waiting for the bus is torture. I'm hungry and ready for a shower to refresh. I have pit stains under my arms. I needed more layers. Walking the college made me heat up more than I expected. I'm trying to hide them from Vishal. Trying to keep my sex appeal that I'm always shocked exists. It's a revelation to me how many  companies I recognize from America. There are burger kings, Boss, Dior, Starbucks, etc. It made me feel less far from home. As if I'm home just a city over. Vishal insisted we both have a leap card. Less change had to be carried and it affords us options of busses. Vishal is looking at the bus map confirming our route. We are all lined up in a single file line like I was taught in grade school. As I reflect on the last time I lined up for something, it strikes me as hyper civilized. As the bus approaches people in the line start waving down the bus.

"It's the custom", Vishal says as he does the same as the other waiting patrons. Waving maniacally.

We go to the upper deck and sit down quickly once allowed on. I still haven't fully become accustomed to the driving. The swapped side of the street and how the busses get very close to the rears of cars and busses infront of them would take some getting use to. Or, maybe, I just need to close my eyes and learn not to look. Let the driver do their job and trust he is equipped to do so. Luckily we find two seats next to eachother. The fresh air keeps me from getting car sick. I lean on Vishal and he puts his arm around me. As my eyes get heavy and my head begins to bob, he lets me know our stop is coming up. He presses the button aggressively indicating our stop. I check that I have my things fighting through my grogginess.

"Stay right here."

He leaves me where we have just exited the bus and dashes off.

"But, But am I to just stand here"

He is already gone. 5 minutes later he appears with a wrapped sandwich and 2 drinks.

"For when we get to the room"

I'm grateful, one less thing to figure out.

"Thank you"

"Your welcome, looking a little tired. We have a few hours before drinks."

"Oh right, I forgot, drinks with Chuck. I need a few hours."

"Oh come on, it will be fun."

Fun. I hope he is right, but I had a strange feeing fun was not the right word.

"Craic"

"Haha right, you remembered.Craic!"

Vishal makes me a bubble bath. I can smell the bath soaps and oils permeating the room. The hotel has no spa, but it smells like a spa. He has a face mask, body scrubs and lotions lined up on the counter.

"I'm impressed. Thank you."

"I think you should be all set. I'm going to do a small workout in the room. If you need me just call me."

"okay, how about you come in at the end of your workout? Or I'll get you before my final rinse. Which ever happens first."

"Deal", he agrees as he puts in his ear buds and changes into his workout clothes.

I slip into the bath. It's hot, but not so hot I can't submerge fully into it. My body relaxes and my sinuses open up as the vapors rise. I create waves with my hands allowing myself to sway with its rhythm. Almost insync with the meditation CD Vishal has on. I'm reading a bathbook I got from a friend. It's a book that has laminated pages so you can read it in the shower or bath. It was sold at her bath shop. My friend had purchased a small batch of them. They surprisingly sold well. I felt reassured that others read in the shower and bath as well. If only a newspaper was sold this way. I'd never lose time. I'm reading one about Myths & Folklores from Around the World. I settle on a Celtic one.

An hour later the bath is cold and my fingers are pruned. The story finished. I let the water out while I'm still sitting in it. I sit for a couple minutes after all the water has drained. It makes it easier to dry off. I grab the sugar body scrub and take a shower. After the shower I dry again, serums and lotions rubbed on, powdered and spritzed. I realize Vishal never came in. I open the door and peek out. He is sleeping on his workout mat. I walk exceedingly slowly to hide the sound of my steps and kneel down beside him.

"Vishal", I say while rubbing his chest in small circles.

He blinks his eyes open then asks sleepily, "What time is it?"

"Time for you to shower and get ready for drinks."

He gets on all fours and then pushes himself up.

"You smell so fresh", he attepts to take a big breath of me.

"You smell manly, but you should probably freshen up too"

"Come with me."

"No"

"Come on, I have to by myself?", said as a whiny kid.

"I just finished in there"

"But my back?", he protests.

I try to stand firm, but he always wins.

"Come on, we are going to be late meeting your friend."

"We might, but it will be worth it."

We are late and it was worth it. However, Chuck was later and appeared with a women friend as well.

"Sorry I'm late old pal. This is Caoimhe. I'm her escort for the night. You both ready for drinks. Lets go to Temple Bar. Yeah?"

I suspected it was reverse. She was most likely his escort, but I wasnt going to make a moment about it. Maybe they were friends.

"I'm fine with Temple Bar.", I answer offering up my opinion.

"Me too", Vishal immediately agrees.

Caoimhe smiles and nods and make a gesture implying after you.

Chuck lets go of his dates hand and goes to Vishal resting his arm on Vishals sholders as they walk.

"So pal you want to hear about the deal?"

Vishal shrugs him off, "We will have time over drinks. Lets keep business until after we have a drink."
Then locating me, he grabs my hand and pulls me into him.

"I'm sorry, I wont leave your side tonight."

"Its okay, I know you wont on purpose."

"Exactly. We are here and I know I love you."

He doesn't wait for a reply and instead starts leading us to Temple Bar.

Temple Bar is the quintessential Irish pub from the outside to the inside. A musician plays irish-esk ballads on the small stage. We are early, beating the evening crowd and are able to post up at a table. The table is close enough to see the stage, but not close enough to be bothered by the speakers or volume of the music.

"What are you having?, Vishal asks, "So I can order it for you."

I browse the comprehensive menu provided to me. Supposedly Temple Bar provides one of the best most comprehensive lists of whiskey of most neighboring bars. After reading the list and realiz there are many on the list I've never tried. I pick by name.

"I'll have a writers tears cask strength on the rocks please"

"woah, came to drink and do business with the big boys huh. They have mojitos and irish coffees, wine, beers", Chuck suggests.

"I'm going to the bathroom", I turn to Chuck, "You know how us women need to powder our noses", I smile and exit to the bathroom. I know my persliflage doesn't go undetected.

"Writer Tears on the rocks it is for the woman", Vishal repeats.
By the time I get back my drink is waiting. Vishal has a beer and a shot of Jameson. Chuck has a large wine glass with a red inside. Normally I would think nothing of this, but some how the red added to his pretentious personality. Maybe I was being too judgy. I take a sip of my drink. Not bad, definitely the right lubrication for my mood for what seemed like a long night.

"So whats this deal?", Vishal asks.

"Okay, here is the scoop. One of my friends father's died. He received his father's stamp collection. Sentimentality aside, my friend does not collect stamps and has no interest in it. He does know business and items worth though and discovered the stamps are worth a substantial amount. He wants to sell the stamps and use the money to help start a scholarship fund for kids interested in architecture at their company. He is savvy though and has set a minimum for negotiations. Minimum in amount of money and minimum of three stamps. If you went in on a deal with me, he wouldnt need to know and then I could meet the minimum. I could get two stamps and you could get one you wanted. We both walk away happy and our collections richer. So what do you think?"

"I think I need to understand what the minimum amount of money is before I can answer."

"Well, around 5 to 8 million"

Vishal starts laughing, "Sorry pal, but I think you wasted your time"

"Maybe, except one of the stamps is the a first series red-blue mauritius 1 penny Post Office postage stamp. Plus we would be getting 2 others with it. Making the deal not a joke, dont you think?"

Vishal stopped laughing. Took the shot poured it in his beer then proceded to chug the entire beer.

"So what stamp are you trying to get in the deal?", Vishal questions.

"ahhhhhh so you are interested. I would get the 12d Black Empress and another one of around the same value. He is giving us a deal no matter how you look at it. He is giving me a deal bc I helped him with an investment in college. It is his way of paying me back."

"So you are in right. You want the red-blue mauritius right?"

"So who is the seller? What family?"

"Cant tell you that. He doesn't want to be solicited by the public yet. Plus if I tell you, what reassurance do I have that you wont try to cut me out of the deal and make your own deal."

He was smarter than he seemed originally. He made a good point he knew were considering.

"Its a huge deal", Chuck coaxes.

Vishals whole demenor changed. "How many other interested parties do you have?"

"Thats the most serendipitous part. I ran into you after first discussing it with my friend. So you are getting the first true offer, but there are three others I casually mentioned it to over the phone. I would cover 1.2 of it."

"So the majority falls to me. The onerous of the deal lies with me or the other investor you find."

"Yes, but you are the one getting the real deal. I'm covering the evaluated valued price of each of the stamps I'm getting."
I can see the wheels of Vishal's mind turning.

"Now I need to go to the bathroom, excuse me", both Chuck and his date find their way to the bathroom.

"I need to find who the seller is. Try to speak with him myself. Otherwise I will need to go in on the deal with him. I can get the money. It's an investment, plus with what I already have it increases the value."

"Slow down master mind. You should think about this, it is a lot of money. It is also networking."

"Excuse me for just a moment, I need to call my secretary in the states."

His secretary is a male who is a friend of his family who needed a job. It didn't worry me he was calling his secretary, it worried me he is working on our vacation. While he made his phone call I held the table and googled orange red mauritius stamp while finishing my drink. When the waiter comes round I order another round. The place seems to be operating at capacity now. Everyone is happy to see a drink waiting once back at the table.

"Do you know why that whiskey is called Writers Tears", I ask the table.

"Because writing is hard work and thus requires a lot of whiskey and tears, hence the stereotype of the alcoholic writer.", says chuck.

"No, but great guess."

"The waiter told me its because the creators loved it so much and drank so much after they created it, they cried whiskey."

"Ahhhh, well is it true?, Vishal asks.

Smiling I say Cooley, "It's not bad".

Vishal knows for me that means I like it.

"We are in for a night!", he says sarcastically.

Day 3

It was a night. I drank, I danced, I listened to music, I conquered. We were out late, but not sooo late that the morning would be impossible. I woke slightly dehydrated, but nothing a coffee, juice and water couldnt remedy. Breakfast is waiting bed side when I wake up. There is a note in an excessively opulent card that looks expensive. I open the front flap lifting it up. The note reads as follows

Ava,

I'm so sorry I had to take care of something this morning. I have arranged for you to see the castle today. I will be back by the time you are done there. Sorry I'm missing this, but I can't wait to hear all about it. A group is meeting at the location listed below. Once you meet with them text me, so I know you are safe with the other tourists. Try and have fun. Don't be mad. I will explain later.

                 Love,

                         Vishal

The breakfast is delicious. I think about skipping the visit to the castle and just staying in bed. As I pick at a muffin and drink my coffee I decide to go. I'm not really going alone since I'm meeting a group. I find the confidence to venture out alone. I wonder what Vishal could be doing, what could be so important?

I take my time getting ready, pop a couple Advil and them do what they do. By the start time of the tour I should be back at 100%. I get waves of nervousness as I debate going or staying. I hadn't planned on going site seeing alone. This probably had to do with acquiring the stamp.

I now realize Vishal and I are from completely different worlds. The fact that, that deal, was feasible to him, just another investment, was segregating. My apartment and my used volvo were expensive to me. Investments such as art were usually out of my range. My stock investments were my biggest investments. It was hard not to compare. I started to feel resentment creeping in at having to see the castle by my lonesome. How dare he prioritize his personal endeavors over me on a trip he invited me to. I grabbed my bag, making sure I have the hotel key, and head to the group meet up location my mood clouded by my disappointment in Vishal.

"Hi I'm not sure I'm in the right place. Are you going to the Dublin Castle?"

"Yes we all are.", the woman named Cathy says as she points circling a group of people with her finger in the air. She seems to be the groups conductor.

"Are you alone?", she asks.

Some how having to designate myself as alone annoys me further. Tainting the start of the trip.

"Yes, Im alone."

"Well Welcome to our little tour family. Here's a name tag for you. We will be leaving shortly."

"Thank you"

"Please talk to some of the other travelers, we will be sharing space for the next couple hours. So, lets not be strangers."

I need to embrace this situation or find myself wasting the experience. I go up to a small group of travelers with name tags standing together.

"Hi"

"Hi"

"Is this your first time in Dublin?"

A woman named Grace reciprocates, "This is my first time. I came solo on this trip, although I'm here with friends."

Grace seems normal enough. Plus it is comforting to know others came alone. This information puts me at ease and keeps my mind from snarling at Vishal.

"My friends have been here before many times. I am the only one who hadn't. Still wanted to do the tourist thing."

After a few more exchanges, I could tell Grace and I would be friends. Things were looking up. By the time our bus showed up we were all enthusiastically ready. A man named Noah has read so much about the castle I'd be surprised if any tour guide could compete.

"The castle was originally a viking settlement", I hear Noah chatting up some passangers in the middle of the bus. He continues "There have been a few enhancements over the years,etc etc".

I had read blogs about it myself along with online articles. He was a professor of Irish History. It made sense he should know these things. To be honest, I just wanted to be a casual tourist. See an impressive structure from history and learn some facts along the way. Probably in all likelihood walkaway a non-expert. I didn't want to detract from Noah's experience, so I look for a seat in the back. Surprisingly Grace is sitting alone.

"Can I sit here?"

"Of course. I'm probably not the most fun guest to sit by. I really just came alone to walk around and see the castle everyone in my group talks about. I'm a little frustrated I couldn't get one of them to join me. They didn't want to spend the money on something they have seen more than once."

"I understand I was supposed to be on this adventure with my boyfriend, but he chose work over coming"

"Really? Maybe we are the perfect buddies for today."

"Yeah, maybe"

We sit in a comfortable silence for the entire drive there. Once we arive, we all pay the 12 euros for a guided tour. Even Noah, though I'm sure he doesn't need it. The tour will include the states apartments, the record tower, administrative building, undercroft and Chaple Royal. Nornally the tour would start at the undercroft, but due to some happenstance they started our tour in the states apartments. The Battleaxe staircase up reminds me of the scene from Titanic, but instead of Jack I picture Vishal at the bottom. The red carpet pops and is a vibrant river in the formal setting. Art is everywhere I look. Even the chairs and couches of the drawing room are curiously unique. One piece of artwork is a head being served on a platter, a little macabre, but it holds an intimidation power that seems fitting for a medieval castle. The inside of the states apartments gives little hint to being inside a castle, resembling any bourgeois interior. Although the castle is now owned by Ireland, It use to be owned by the British. Home to the Viceroy and their court. The throne room is spectacular. Infact, all the rooms are magnificent and kept in pristine shape.

"Can you believe these aren't carvings?"

"No, the past truly produced man-made wonders"

"Art was a skill in everything."

"Yes, thats it", I completely understood what Grace meant.

We stood in a room with  sketches or paintings that looked like carvings. Each one carried depth giving a 3d nature to it. They were optical illusions. At first we all believed we were viewing marble reliefs and not drawings. The time and aloneness people were given in the past to learn a skill like this is what blew my mind. Today you would have to practically fight against going to school, working, shopping or doing any kind of chore to be this talented. So simple in tone, yet so inticate and sophisticated. By the end of the States Apartments I'd  seen the Galleries, the James Connelly Room, Apollo Room, drawing room, the portrait room, Wedgewood room and St.Patrick's Hall. Each an elaborate grandiose decorative experience.

The medieval tower, known as the wardrobe tower or records tower, is the oldest site in Dublin. It's currently closed to the public for renovations. I'm disappointed, but nothing will change that so I try to move on. Originally it housed the kings treasures and Armour, but later it was transformed to hold records. Books, correspondances, and manuscripts could be found in the records tower. From the outside it's an architectural feat.

"How is this still standing?"

"It's highly cared for, like all tourists sites that make money."

"true"

Each stone so perfectly placed. Each a piece balancing and dispersing the weight so every stone seems to be earning the spot it holds.

"This is what the inside looked like", Grace reveals a photo from a pamphlet and on her phone."

"Thanks, not the same at getting to see inside though huh."

"Our luck"

"That's the truth"

We follow behind, trailing closely behind, our tour clique. Our next site set on our menu for our eyes to devour is the Chapel Royal. We eat it up and then marvel in content for about 30 min after. It was built on soft land, thus the builders needed to keep the building materials light. It is dripping in Gothic Revival style with flying buttresses, amazing vaulting, lancet windows, spires, stone sculptures and all the other fixings of a Gothic stylized building. However, to keep the building lighter instead of using carved stones as the decorations it uses carved wood made to look like stone through paint. The effect fools the most trained eyes.

"I can't believe that's not stone"

"Art in everything", Grace repeats from earlier.

The plaster work is incredibly skilled in the Chapel. The chapel was designed by Francis Johnston. A focus for tourists in this room is the coats of arms. The Gothic Revival style is in contrast to the Georgian palace style of it's other constucted parts.

Finally we are able to tour the undercroft or Viking Excavation area. This area has traces of the original Dublin castle as well as the vikings original defenses.

As we travel the inserted walkway and stairs leading to it, the dank musk of castle surround us. The river Poddle flows under the castle. Originally this river was used in the castles mote. It was damned up and funneled into it. An arched  gate that use to allow water to the mote is still visible, although it has been filled in with stone now. Standing as just a wall. There is also a stone embankment under the powder tower. This is the first time today that the environment feels medieval. Maybe the ricketiness and creaks of the path aide in giving an ancient feel to it. The walkway sways and bumps with the weight of all of us walking almost single file to view what lays around us. Grace and I enjoy this. The undercroft shows the castles true age, its stripped down and undressed compared to the other Rooms revealing times wares. The undercroft is an excellent dwelling for Dracula.We enjoy it, but can't wait to get outside to the gardens. Fresh air after the dank claustrophobic feel of the basement area should be refreshing. 

The gardens are entered through wrought iron fences. Adding a slight gothic feel whether meant to or not. Through the gates we enter 'Four Seasons' garden. There is special artistic sculptures placed in four smaller gardens at each opposing directional point of the garden. Three of these are designated as memorial gardens. Each is beautiful, but I'm waiting for Dubh Linn Garden. As we approach Noah turns around and starts reciting, "May the rain drops fall lightly on your brow, May the soft winds freshen your spirit, May the sunshine brighten your heart". We all clap and blow kisses. He bows. Grace replies, "Like the warmth of the sun and the light of the day, may the luck of the irish shine bright on your way!". Again, we all clap.

Grace turns to me a whispers, "Saw it on a postcard in a shop. My friend has been saying that to our group every morning."

Noah looks pleased with himself and the group he's been placed with. The impromtu spoken word poetry gives a regal feel to the garden adventure.

Dubh Linn garden is supposedly the site of the original "dark pool" or "black pool". It was the place where two rivers conjoined and flowed into one another causing the darkness of the pool. It is supposedly where the Vikings harbored their ships. This is where Dublin city derives it's name from.
The lawns green is broken up with lawn engravings of serpents.

"Why is it have to be serpents?",I ask. "The last thing I want to think of in a garden is a snake, but maybe its intimidating and biblical or something."

"Snakes were sacred to high ranking individuals. They are on the book of Kells.", Noah says.

"Of course they were", Grace looks at me like duh didnt you know that.

We laugh at our ignorance especially since I had vistited the book of Kells prior to this.

At the end of the tour we all share what we liked about it. We continue reflecting on the tour on the ride back. Once we exit the bus I'm excited to see Vishal and share everything I've seen. All my resentment washed away.

"Hey do you want to get dinner later with me and a few of my friends later. We are close to here.", Grace asks.

"Maybe, can I let u know in an hour"

"Yeah, here. Call this", she underlines a number on a card with an extension.

"Okay I will. Really nice to meet you. Thanks for being my tour buddy for the day."

She salutes me with two fingers above her brow, nods and walks off.
I rush to my hotel room, accidentally bumping a woman in the lobby and having to apologize. When I enter the room, its empty. I scan everywhere looking for traces of Vishal. Signs of a note. It looks the same as I left it this morning. I charge my phone. No messages.

I pack up our things because we are moving rooms tomorrow. As I pack all our items I reflect on us. Resentment can taint even the best memories. I text Vishal: Where are you? Beginning to wonder if you are coming back? I put the phone down, just to pick it up 5 seconds later. I do this a few more times until I realize I need a distraction. I pull the card Grace gave me.

The phone rings, I give the receptionist the extention which is really a room number. The phone rings.

".....Hey stop that(laughter). Hello. Hello."

"Yes Hello is Grace there?

"This is she"

"Hi, its Ava from earlier, at the Castle."

"Ava I'm  not that much of a Dori. I remember you. That was not even an hour ago. We are going to go to the Guinness Storehouse then dinner. Come with us. Myfriends want to meet you. Some how they have no problem with repeated visits to the Storehouse."

I hear some one say, "stop being bitter. If the castle gave free samples of Guinness we'd have gone to that as well."

"Its not free if you pay an admission", Grace yells back.

"Free enough."

"Ava are you still there?"
"Yes"

"We are planning to go to the Storehouse, then check out some of the free museums and galleries before dinner. Want to come?"

"Yes I think I would. It will be just me again I think."

"No word yet?"

"Nope."

"Well its settled. You are coming with us. If he calls have him meet you out. I'm sure he will and then you dont have to sit alone upset."
"Agreed. Should I meet you at your hotel?"

"Actually we will meet you at yours. Its more that way."

"Oh right"

"Its okay I get turned around all the time too."

"Did you know you can get a pint with your face imprinted on the head of it?"

"Never thought about doing that. Can they do it from a picture?"

"I think so, why?"

"Going to get it done with a picture of Vishal and I and then send it to him. Show I'm thinking of him, but not sitting around moping about him."

"Good idea. We will meet you in 45 minutes."

"See you then!"

"See ya."

I look at my cell. No text. I go to shower. While stepping out of the shower I cant help myself I check. Still nothing. I decide to wear black jeans with a black and tan sweater. Its comfortable and warm. Probably too sensible, but I didn't feel like fiddling with a scarf tonight. I put my casual walking sneakers on. Before heading to the Lobby I decide to send another text to vishal. I send a picture with me holding the card with Grace's number. Underneath the photo I write: Going out with a new friend I met at the Castle. Here is her number. We will be at Guinness Storehouse for a bit before going elsewhere. SEND. Now at least I didnt go out with strangers without letting someone know where I was. If something happened at least they'd be better off trying to find me. Nothing out of the ordinary should go down tonight, but one can't be to safe these days. Then head out.

I stand in the lobby with my back to a wall from a vantage point where I can see the entrance. I watch the people in the lobby. The receptionist sits behind a high desk. currently a manager is assisting the receptionist with a customer trying to upgrade their room. There are people dressed up, others dressed down as they enter or exit on a trajectory to a destination. Of particular interest was a woman in a emeral long dress with a sheer nude sparkley outer covering. She's holding a branch of what I think is a Hawthorne tree or a Mayflower, its also known as a fairy tree. These trees are all over Ireland. The woman in her dress resembles a fairy. I read that in Celtic mythology these trees were sacred. Often this tree embodied qualities of strength, love and protection. I imagine what her story is: Anniversary, meeting a lost lover, reunion of some sort with a child or other family member, or maybe a blind date. As I watch and wait to see who comes to meet her I miss seeing Grace and her friends slip in.

"Hi, what you staring at?"

"Oh, what, you startled me. Am I staring. I've been watching that woman in the green dress with the tree branch. I guess trying to see who she has been waiting for. See if any of my predictions are correct."

"I see. Well you want figure it out or come with us to the Storehouse?"

"Storehouse obviously"

"Hi Im Cormac"

"I'm Blaine, this is Erin"

"Nice to meet you"

Blaine goes over to the woman saying something I can't hear. After chatting with her for a few minutes he walks back over to us.

"Lets go"

We walk out and make our way to the Storehouse.

"Well???", I say to Blaine.

"Well what, what did the woman say?

"Thats private"

Grace smacks his arm, "Stop messing with us. What did you ask? What did she say? Now I have to know too!"

"okay okay. I asked why a woman dressed so nicely would be waiting alone. She said she met her husband here on this date in 2007. He was taken in an accident. Now on this date every year she sits in the lobby drinking red wine and reminiscing. She waits for her next husband, a reincarnated version."

"Really", Both Grace and I say.

"Haha I knew thats what you wanted to hear. No she is an escourt. The branch is so her customer knows its her."

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Would I lie"

I look at Grace because I have no idea.

"To be honest I can't remember. Are we ready to see the Storehouse."

"You're impossible!", Grace laughs.

"No I'm not nosy. Can we go in now"

"Yes"

The Guinness Storehouse is a 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' for adults. In the floor is the 9000 year lease Arthur Guinness secured. It's an astute shrine for those immersed in the Guinness culture. Saying anything against seems sacrosanct after touring the facility. Guinness is the life blood here. The Storehouse is repleat with lighted water fountains and a rich history; as rich as the beer it houses. We paid for the tour and the experience where you try 4 of Guinness's crafted beers.

"Didn't you want to get your picture on the head of the beer"
"I don't think you can do both"

"What?! Sure you can", Cormac insists.

"Lets sit over here."

"So miss Ava, who are you when you're not a tourist in Ireland?"

"I'm a receptionist at an office and a girl in a relationship with a guy who leave me alone on trips."

"Receptionist and you're taken. What else?"

"What do you mean, what do you want to know? My favorite color?"

"Sure if you'd like. Trying to get to know Grace's new friend. If you think receptionist and girlfriend explains 'you' fine, nice to meet you?", Cormac extends a hand for me to shake.

I extend a hand to shake and say, "Nice to meet you. My favorite color is emerald green. You are still kind of a stranger to me. I open up slowly." I take a sip of my beer after snapping a selfie with my beer. I send it via text to Vishal. After which I look at Cormac waiting patiently for a response.

"Ah your right. I'm Cormac. I'm a general manager at a company. Am free as a bird with no sigificant other. Have a ton of friends all over the place. My favorite color is red, outside of sports and affiliations. I like food and drinks, sports, music and home improvement projects are a hobby. Maybe you'll get a few more specifics later on. When your not a stranger, I watched home alone. I know the dangers. Or worse single white female. You wouldn't be trying to single white female me would you?"

He said this with such a face of sincerity I couldn't help but laugh. This comment shouldn't have put me at ease, but it did. I knew I was in good company.

Grace explained how they all met. Each would interject with stories of how they met and trips they went on and how they keep in touch.

They all have heritage from Ireland. Grace lives in the states and has never been to Ireland until now.

For an hour I managed to forget about Vishal. When I realize again I check my phone. No response. I'm disappointed, but having fun so I carry on. We decide to go and check out some art galleries and museums that are free of admissions. I'm introduced to some of the up and coming artists that Ireland has to offer. I see some emotional landscapes that provide the perfect windows for reflection by Julie O'Thorne. The blank faces in some of the picaso-esk paintings provide a perfect place for the mind to play with characters and stories.

"Cormac!"

"Yeah"

"I like art. Especially art I can get inside and image some story or memory that lends itself to a mental play because the image conveys so much of some emotion or scene. I like paintings. Staring at paintings."

"I like this painting", I point to a moody landscape.

"I like it too. And he continued to pull the string..."

"What?"

"I'm writing a story about unraveling you slowly."

"I see"
Cormac pulled out a cigarette and started smoking it.

"Sir, Sir you can't smoke in here."

"Oh right, sorry a little buzzed."

Cormac pulls out his vape and begins vaping.

"Sir, Sir no smoking of any kind."

"Its a vape"

The gallery employee gave him a look.

He looks at me with a guilty face and whispers, "Tough crowd".

He proceeds to take the painting off the wall.

"Sir please dont touch the art. We can assist you if you would like to see something."

"I'm about to be the owner though, surely I can touch my own painting"

He is being bold, too bold. The employee is annoyed, she continues calling him sir. I find this ironic considering he is acting rather un-sir-ly.

"Sir you would like to purchase this piece?"

"Yes, yes. Did I not make that clear? Sorry. Yes I would love to purchase this painting. Could you wrap it up for us and give it to the woman right next to me, Miss Ava."

"Are you staying here, we can have it sent to your home as well."

"She lives in the states."

"We can ship it anywhere in the states."

"I bet you can. What will it cost me. You sell poster prints of it."

"No Sir, I'm sorry we don't."

"I was kidding, yes please send it to the address she gives you."

"Thank you!"

"Now you will remember me and I want to be written in the unwritten story you see or write while looking at it. Maybe you could tell me the story some day. This my new favorite thing about you."

"This is the only real thing you know about me."
"No, now I know you're a visionary and creative. Maybe a bit of a romantic. I also know you have good taste because I liked the painting too. I know you will fit into our group of friends fine."

Just then my phone sounded with a notification. I open my texts with little to no expectation. I'm pleasantly surprised to see a text from Vishal.

The text reads I don't know how to start. Not to sound like any shitty manipulative boyfriend or every dead beat dad trying to easily gain entry back into the life of someone he hurt; I am sorry and I can explain everything. I am so sorry. I know you must have been worried. I got your texts. I will meet you wherever you are if you want to see me. Your friends seem nice. Tell them thank you for looking after you for me while I was away.

The text made me conflicted. Initially kinda sweet, but equally annoying. The last sentence meant to be cute made it seem like they should be being paid to chaperone me around. Or, maybe, like a trophy wife unable to live and function in the real world. I couldn't argue I enjoyed the company and wasn't sure I'd be brave enough to venture out by myself if Grace hadn't invited me, but that was beside the point. I didn't like him saying it. Especially him saying it after he ditched me on a trip abroad after saying he wouldn't leave my side the night before. It was bullshit. The audacity. I bet he even could explain it perfectly, he's a word smith. That would annoy me further. Plus I wanted to be selfish with my new friends. I imagine the meeting. He'd probably hi-jack them the way he does. Presenting himself as entertaining and interesting. I meditate on this last thought. Then sigh and laugh to myself at my ridiculous thought process. "Okay, so I'm mad at him", I think to myself. That's the only time entertaining and interesting can be seen as a negative. I'd have to hear him out eventually. Maybe better to let myself ease into him again with the presence and atmosphere of new friends, allowing both of us to present our best selves. Maybe then I wouldn't attack his actions so aggressively.

Cormac taps his hip against mine startling me.

"You startle a lot don't you? He text? The woman needs you to write your address and sign a paper."

"I don't usually, but maybe around you. Yes Vishal finally text. Where are we going next so he can meet us? Oh yes I will handle the painting info right now. Thank you really. I will cherish this gift."

Cormac is surprisingly sincere compared to the joking playful obtuse exterior he portrays most times.

"We are going to eat after this because I'm starving. Everyone good with eating after this?"

"Yes please"

"Yeah"

"As long as it's not the place from last night", Grace adds.

"Okay, I chose one bad place.", Cormac defends.

"Bad doesn't begin", Grace continues.

"It was busy", Cormac further reasons.

"I know, so weird", Grace says.

"We must have just ordered the wrong stuff or something. Promise, we will find a different place to eat."

Cormac turns to me to explain, "I picked a place at random last night. Couldn't find any reviews but it was busy. Located out of town. The food was un-edible, for us, maybe it was to authentic. I don't think I could have offended the cook before we ordered."

I laugh picturing the multitude of ways this could have happened.

Cormac like most food is an acquired taste. His humor grows on you because he is genuinely sweet. At least he was more tame at the National Gallery of Ireland. He has limits to his Ludicrous behavior, but not many.

We read the menus posted outside the restaurants until we all agree on one. I text Vishal the location. He responds immediately, "On my way".

We decide on a restaurant known as 'Featherblade'. A reasonably priced steak house.

Vishal arrives as our food is being placed on the table. Vishal walks in dressed in his casual immaculate way. His outfit complemented by wearing a full smile. I wave him over, where I already have a chair waiting. He slides into the seat next to me with his left hand sliding between the chair and my back. Finding its eventual resting place on my lower back. He begins ingraciating himself with the others at the table.

The more Grace, Cormac, Erin and Blaine seem enthralled with Vishal the less I was. His bloviating speech had a vitriolic effect to my presence as I withered away into myself. The tipping point came as I heard him explaining his where abouts of the day to the entire table.

"So I'm told, by my friend, that this stamp that I've always wanted is being sold.....My secretary is able to collect a list of prominent architect's who passed away recently. Then we were able to cross reference other factors to widdle the list down to three possible families. Further gossip and research allowed us to make an educated guess on which was most likely.....I was able to set up a meeting by interviewing with the most likely candidate for a different project I'm handling. I invited him to lunch. I could replace the current architect and choose their firm.....I'm dropping stamp hints and subtlety making analogies. Finally, the topic of stamps and collecting comes up. I bring up my friends deal. I act surprised to discover it's him selling his fathers stamps to my friend. I explain how I ran into our mutual friend. We start talking. Turns out I am in the process of negotiating a new deal. All in 24hrs!"

"Impressive! Sounds like you're a regular Sherlock", Cormac says and Blaine agrees.

"Or a Sheldon, it's really just analysis", I interject.

When our waitress comes over Cormac speaks up, "Please get this man a congratulatory drink."

"What would you like?", She asks.

"Hope Hoppy Lager please"

"Works not done completely. Now I just need to work on finalizing it and finishing the paperwork."

"What's the new deal?", I inquire.

"I can purchase the red-blue mauritius stamp at price and he will include 2 other lesser collectibles with it as long as I am able to wrangle him in as the architect on our building project."

"What about Chuck?", I ask.

"Now you care about Chuck? You looked at him like Jerry looks at Newman."

"Haha, no I didn't. Won't he be upset."

"No he will find someone else."

"You went behind his back and found the seller. He asked you not to."

"I'll tell him it was by chance through my work dealings."

"So you'll lie."

"Don't give me Hargitay face?"

"What is Hargitay face?", Erin asks.

"He means the face Mariska Hargitay makes in SVU during specific scenes when she's disappointed or digusted."

"I'm not, just surprised you'd do that to Chuck."

"How much has she drunk tonight?"

"I'm not drunk. Had 2 drinks. You know, we had a fun night. Cormac bought me a painting from a local artist at a gallery we visited. I could show you if you care. If anyone else can share."

"Oh wow really. A painting. That's nice. How much was it? I can give you whatever the cost was."

"It's a gift from him to me."

"Yeah, she loved it. I liked it too, but have no place for it. I got it as a gift for her to remember us after our trip. No need to pay me back. The shipping was probably more than the painting."

"That is nice, Thanks. I'd love to see it."

Cormac takes his phone out and shows Vishal a pic.

"Now I see why. Very cool."

"So what's the plan after dinner? We might need to get going?"

"Why? We were going to get a drink and listen to music."

"Could we plan on another night."

"Why because you have more work? I am fine staying here."

"I'd love to catch up with you about today. I saw you packed all our stuff."

"Yes I did. Like I went out with your friend."

"Actually another night might be better. I'm pretty tired after eating this steak.", Cormac suggested.

"I'm tired too.", Grace agrees.

We chat the rest of dinner, pay and say our good byes. We agree to meet the day after the next for drinks and music. Once they are gone and we are walking back I feel the resentment I felt earlier.

"Your new friends, our new friends seem nice."

"Yeah they are."

"You had no right."

"No right for what? Why are you being so aggressive?"

"Agressive? You ditch me for an entire day. I invite you out with people I met and like and you basically come just to collect me and gloat about your deal. I'm not one of your stamps. You cant just pay for me, collect me, and display me when and where you choose."

"That's not my intent."

We walked back to the hotel in silence. As we walk in the lobby the woman in the green dress is still sitting there. I grab Vishals arm to get him to stop walking. I go up to the woman.

"Are you waiting for someone? Can I help you call someone? I noticed you were waiting a few hours ago."

"I met my first husband here. Just reminiscing and waiting for my second husband. My honey reincarnated."

"Cormac didn't lie with the first story."

I can't help the smile that was coming to my face.

"What is that about?", Vishal asks.

"Just learning about a friend". Too tired to argue we make our way to our room. I get ready for bed in silence and go to bed.