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Irish You Were Here

Chapter 1

I sat cross-legged and sideways in my seat while I waited for everyone else to shuffle off the plane. I was too tired to try a fight with the crowd. I had just touched down in Montreal after a ten-plus hour flight from Dublin, Ireland. There wasn’t even anything interesting to look at; just water. I couldn’t sleep on the plane, but I had left after a family dinner, so I was exhausted. I checked my watch: 3:27 a.m.

Ugh.

I had gone to visit my parents and extended family in Dublin. They were back there for a few months, visiting and taking a break from Alberta. I hadn’t been back in a while. My parents had visited me in Montreal, but it’d been a while since I’d seen Irish soil. I missed it, to some extent. It was nice to be among my people, I guess. My cousins were a little annoying, but that was typical. The thing I missed the most was probably my grandma’s cooking. I must’ve gained ten pounds while I was there. The funny thing about the Irish is, they always have to make sure you have enough to eat. They’ll keep offering you food until you almost have to push them away from you or hide your plate. They offer you anything and everything, whatever you need. I’m the same way, and it was nice to be on the receiving end.

My dad’s Russian. They met while he was in Dublin trying to sell his brand of liquor. Long story short, that didn’t work out, but somehow during the month and a half business trip, he managed to knock my mom up. I always joke and give him hell about that. They decided to move to the states about nine months later. They chose Edmonton; I guess they wanted it to feel like home. When I was younger I visited both sides of my family a lot, which meant my accent was a little…different. Growing up, I took trips to and from Russia and Ireland quite often. I got the best of both cultures, from the cooking and the music to the language and traditions.

High school proved a breeding ground for my hobbies and talents. Hockey, soccer, singing, dancing, as well as playing guitar and violin. High school was also where I met my best friend, who happens to be a certain feisty forward for the Montreal Canadiens.

How we met? It’s a long story, but basically my team’s practice got cancelled, so I was out on the ice by myself. No one told me the boys were practicing, but their coach saw me, and started talking about my style of play. Some of the guys came out and listened in, and I pretty much had to prove myself to them, for whatever reason. I turned their defense inside out before undressing their goalie, then promptly leaving. I didn’t like the attention. Anyway, the little shithead that was there that day caught up with me during class and we started to become friends. We stayed friends until I left for college.

I supported myself with my photography, music, and mainly my bartending skills through college. I performed on the street and in bars when I could, playing my guitar and singing. But bartending was my best moneymaker. I raked in the tips, especially on game day. After two years, though, I told my parents I wanted out. I desperately wanted to move to Montreal, and not just because of Brendan, I kept assuring them. The hockey market there was huge, and I wanted to be a part of it. I planned to bartend and try and sell my pictures. I had saved enough in tips to have a pretty big fallback, and I knew my parents wouldn’t let me sink.

Eventually, they let me move, and it was the happiest day of my life, next to the day Bren got drafted. I moved into my new apartment the same day he did. Through the years, I became friends with the guys, which was awesome. That brought me back to Gally; he was currently housesitting for me.

Damn, he’s probably asleep. I thought to myself, remembering the time. I had hoped by the time I got back he would be porking out on take-out or something. I was starving.


I was so caught up in my thoughts that I realized the last person was meandering off the plane. I shouldered my backpack, and tucking my pillow under my arm, I followed.

The airport was sparsely occupied, due to the time. Which was good I suppose; less people to deal with while I waited for my colorful duffle bag. I stood, bouncing my knees and waiting impatiently.

I just wanted to be home, in my bed. I hugged my pillow to my chest and laid my chin on it. I wondered how my puppies were doing. I missed them. I almost brought them along with me, but I wisely decided that it was more trouble than it was worth. I just hoped they hadn’t completely destroyed the house while I was gone.

A flash of orange caught my eye, and I weaved around some people and snatched by bag up. Fishing my key out of my backpack, I braved the night weather in search of my car. I tossed my stuff in the passenger side and started it up, rubbing my hand together and shivering slightly.

Home home home. I thought to myself.




Notes

eughghghghhg starting anew...i hope i can keep this going. i have the next chapter preeeetty much done, just some more editing and such. Hope you enjoy! <3

Comments

This is really cute :) Can't wait to see where it goes!

keep it up! this site needs more Gally :)

allyseguin3 allyseguin3
3/5/15

: )